They followed the river until the ice thinned to reeds. That's where they heard it—a hoarse muttering, words slipping in and out of sense.
Liam crouched at the water's edge, hair matted, clothes ragged. His eyes were scratched by sleeplessness, darting at shapes only he could see.
He flinched when Gilbert stepped forward. “Thrones," Liam whispered. “Crowns promised… they promised me…" His hands clawed at the reeds, as if digging for something buried there.
---
“Liam," Ella said.
He looked up. For a heartbeat she saw the boy who had once hidden behind Regina's skirts—frightened, defiant, needing someone else to speak first. Then the moment was gone.
He lunged. Ella caught his wrists easily. The struggle was clumsy, strength burned out by hunger and cold.
---
Gilbert's voice was even
