“WAS?” I ask, feeling my own anxiety creep in now.
“I don’t know,” he says, taking a deep breath and reaching a hand up to push it into his hair. “She didn’t tell us until after I had given it to her. I let her go immediately. I walked her to the border myself.”
No wonder he’s been so worried. This is really, really bad.
“He wasn’t with them when they attacked on the road,” he says, looking down at me. “He came here, after you. If their baby doesn’t make it, he won’t stop until he gets to you.”
“We need to go back to the palace,” I whisper and he stiffens. “We can’t ask the people here to die, just to protect me.”
“Absolutely not,” he says sternly. “I can, and I will ask that of them. Michael told me about your friend. He was worried about you.”
“I know,” I say, tears sprin
