A small smirk appears on Ash’s face. “I’ll comfort you when I’m certain we’re not going to die.”
In spite of myself, I laugh. “That’s literally the worst thing you could have…Haven’t you ever heard of telling someone their outfit looks good when it doesn’t? White lies save hearts.”
“Your outfit looks good,” he replies, playfulness dancing in his eyes.
I look down at my rumpled uniform, which consists of a white button-down, black leggings, and black lace-up boots. “It does, doesn’t it?” I say. “I could win a pirate costume contest in this thing.”
Ash’s mouth pulls up into a smile, but his expression seems more than amused. He’s looking at me like I’m the most unusual and interesting person he’s ever met.
“Also, when did you get so worried about danger? Aren’t you usually the one making light of everything? You’re seriously slacking on your duties,” I say, blushing slightly under his admiring gaze.
“I started worrying about danger when I started having feelings for the person involved,” he says, and his answer catches me off guard.
For a moment we’re both silent, sitting only a couple of inches apart, the air between us thick and warm in the firelight. I struggle to come up with a reply; sincerity from Ash is always unexpected.
“Brendan,” Ash starts when I don’t respond, yanking me out of the moment.
“Huh?” I say, trying to catch up.
“Keep an eye on Brendan tomorrow,” he says, his voice low and reasoning. “With Nyx temporarily out of commission and Charles and Dr. Conner dead, I’m not certain what the Lions’ next move will be, but Brendan is one of their last weapons here. There’s no sense in speeding up his timeline by letting him suspect we’re leaving.”
I sigh, my head swimming as I recall the incidents of the last week: Charles dead after trying to kill me, Nyx banished to the dungeon for trying to skewer me with her sword. And now Ash is telling me Brendan might try to pick up where they left off. “Isn’t there a universal rule somewhere that says it’s bad manners to attack people right after they’ve outmaneuvered you?”
Ash leans back into the pillows. “Not when you’re Strategia. In fact, it only makes you a more interesting target.”
His answer reminds me of a twisted version of that old saying: If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. I grab a gray velvet throw pillow, hugging it to my chest. As I look at Ash, images from my nightmare fill my head once more. I frown. He survived Conner’s poisoning, but only barely. What about the next time? How would I live with myself knowing I got Ash hurt, or even killed? What sounded daring, even romantic, when Ash offered to drop everything to help me find my dad is now tying up my stomach in knots.
I stare at the flames as they get lower in the fireplace. “That’s the thing, I’m the target. But you don’t have to be.”
“What are you suggesting?” Ash asks, unsure.
He waits a moment for my response, but I’m too lost in my tangled worries. He looks me up and down. “You’re leaning away from me, November, which means you’re trying to protect yourself. And you’re rubbing your palm with your thumb—a self-soothing gesture,” he says. “I can keep reading your body language, but it would be easier if you talked to me.”
I shift my gaze from the dancing flames to Layla’s bedroom door, which adjoins the common area of our suite. She generously retreated earlier to give me an opportunity to talk to Ash, her twin brother. “The thing is, I’m unbelievably grateful that you want to come with me to find my dad. But think about the cost, Ash. First, you’re leaving Layla. If something happens to your sister while you’re away, you’ll never forgive yourself—or me. And vice versa with Layla, if something happens to you.”
“Then we had both better come back in one piece,” he says, looking at me curiously.
“Second,” I say without acknowledging Ash’s flippant response, “what is your Family going to say?” Given the power Brendan and the Lions have, I hate to think what backlash there will be for Ash’s Family if he moves against them. “Won’t you be putting yourself in a vulnerable position?”
Ash smiles, but I can tell by his eyes that he’s concerned about this, too. “None of which is a problem if we succeed.”
“I’m serious,” I say. “You just finished telling me how risky this all is and that we could die. We have no idea what we’re going to find out there. We have no idea if the other Strategia even know that I exist—”
“I suspect more know about you than you might think,” he says quietly.
I stare at him, hoping he’s joking.
“Some of the students here—Matteo, for example—recognized you the moment you set foot on campus. We have to be prepared that others may do the same,” he says, answering my unspoken fear. “Then there’s the fact that Aarya told the entire school who your parents are, and even though communication to and from the Academy is monitored and often delayed, it’s possible it’ll get out before we find your father. Not to mention, suspicions will run high after you and I disappear tomorrow. People might assume Blackwood gave us leave to see our Families after what’s happened, but it’s just as likely that they will suspect we’re out for retaliation after how aggressively the Lion Family tried to kill you. So as I said earlier, we don’t want anyone to have information a moment before they absolutely need to.”
“See,” I say with emphasis. “There is no way you won’t be affected by helping me.”
“I’ve already helped you,” he says.
“In here, yes. But we’re insulated, more protected. Out there, you’ll be a member of the Wolf Family, actively attempting to thwart the Lions. You’ve worked your whole life to prove yourself as a potential leader; this crazy mission I’m about to embark on could erode that in a flash,” I reply.
Ash sighs like I’ve completely missed the point. “And if I let you navigate a world you don’t know and confront the most powerful Strategia Family by yourself, I might as well give up my future leadership now, because I will always know that I wasn’t there when it mattered most.”
I stare at him, terrified of what could happen to him and just as desperate to have him with me. “If you join me, you might not live to graduate the Academy, much less lead.”
“And I also might never learn to speak French with an undetectable accent. There are just some things one needs to accept about oneself,” Ash says, and the smile creeps back onto his face.