“Are you well today, my queen?” Daroc asked.

I looked up quickly, closing the book.

He did not look any better than the day before—eyes dark and hair a mess, but I was grateful for him. I did not wish to think about what would have happened had he not found us.

“I am…well,” I said, though that felt like a lie. “You?”

“Well,” he replied, and I knew that was a definite lie.

We were silent for a moment, and I shifted on my feet. Feeling awkward. Daroc had never held a conversation with me, much less started one.

“Thank you…for yesterday,” I said at last.

“You do not need to thank me,” Daroc said.

“Did you know?” I asked. I did not give any more context to my question, but Daroc knew what I was asking.

His jaw tightened. “I did not expect it to escalate so fast.”

I swallowed hard and looked away, trembling.

“I am sorry about Sorin,” I said, changing the subject, though this one was no better.

“There is nothing to apologize for,” Daroc said. “You are not responsible for him.”

I wanted to tell him the same thing. Sorin’s actions were his own, but I knew it was too late for Daroc. It had been too late the moment he had turned Sorin. That was the day he’d decided to never let go.

Daroc bowed and left my side. I started to return to the book when I caught sight of Solaris who was slowly managing to pack his saddlebag. My feelings about the man were still mixed, but I walked toward him anyway.

“Would you like help?” I asked.

He jumped at the sound of my voice and glanced at me, managing a small, nervous laugh.

“Thank you, Queen Isolde,” he said. “I could not ask it of you.”

“I am offering,” I said.

He looked at me, fully now, and I remembered how cold he seemed when I had first met him in the throne room only weeks ago. I recognized it now as a shield.

“I have to learn to do this myself,” he said.

His words were not harsh, but they were dismissive, and a rush of embarrassment heated my face. Of course, he would not accept my help—I was the reason he struggled now.

“Of course,” I said and started to turn.

“You know I wasn’t lying,” he said, and his voice called my attention back to his face. “When I said I was hunting witches. I am. But I would take any witch who might break this curse Dis has placed upon me.”

I only nodded once and then turned from him, retreating to Reverie’s side. I could not help thinking about his and Adrian’s words. They both believed that a witch might be able to break Dis’s hold on them, but such a spell would come at a great price—likely, a life.