Days after, the argument stayed burning inside me like a live coal, lighting me with fury with every small reminder of our exchange.
I knew I could never truly accept the Tyrant King’s mark, and I was all the more resolved to leave somehow.
But without any way to contact my brother, I was back to sitting on my hands and waiting. Further searching in the garden yielded nothing new– and in fact to my horror, security had even increased thereabouts.
My hands wrung rumples into every skirt I wore as I witnessed all the soldiers trekking around the perimeter of the outer walls. I prayed to the Moon Goddess each night for my brother’s safety, hoping Cyrus tried nothing foolhardy as I once knew him to be wont to do.
All the while I bit my nails in paranoia that maybe the King was already onto
