Despite Nadir’s warnings, the girl swallowed a poisoned berry, and they all cringed as she vomited it back up. Then she threw herself into the canyon full of stone spikes with barely a moment of hesitation.

All to protect Nadir.

He wondered if the girl was addled in the head. Even if Herric technically wasn’t trying to kill her, it still required overcoming a significant mental barrier to put yourself in harm’s way. But she seemed fearless. Unstoppable. And the way she looked at his son . . . even from this distance, he could see how much she cared for him.

Rion dragged his gaze towards Rachel, who sat beside him, her hands folded on her lap, her expression devoid of emotion.

“How are you?” Rion asked, settling into his seat. She turned to him and blinked.

“I’m well. Thank you.”

After Herric had freed Rion from his cage, he had also released Rachel into his care. He’d tried to coax her into speaking and share what she’d been doing for all these years, but all he got were these insipid platitudes.

He took her hand, wrapping it with his. It was cold and thin. She’d lost weight since he’d last seen her. He’d always loved her curves and the way her hips sloped. When he got her out of here, he’d do everything he could to nurse her back to health. “Rachel, tell me what happened. Why did you turn to a life of crime? You had everything you needed from me,” he pressed, and once again, she slowly turned to him.

“I don’t remember,” she said. The same answer he’d gotten numerous times already.

“Did you think of me?” he asked, verging on a flimsy line of desperation. He’d spent his life pining after her, and he needed to know he’d figured into her existence in some way.

She tipped her head, studying Rion from head to toe. “I remember the smell of butterscotch,” she said, and a feeble hope flared in his chest. She did remember him.

“Yes. Do you recall that week we spent in the Cinta Wilds? My father had taken ill, and I’d finally pushed through the bill to conscript the low fae to the mines. We decided to get away for a short while.” He continued talking, describing the cabin and the sound of the wind howling through the trees and the patter of rain. The feel of sunshine on their skin. He remembered every detail like it was yesterday.

When he stopped, he stared at her, willing her to react.

“That sounds lovely.” She paused, her brow knitting in concentration. “What was your name again?”