“Just hear me out.” Tessa turns to me. “Rasmus is duty-bound to protect you from Latham and to keep you from going off in search of him. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“But Norah promised you would hardly notice he was there. So I assume he has orders not to interfere with your training. Or your fun. Or your”—her eyes slide away—“relationships.”

“Tessa,” I say, my voice low and full of warning.

“I’m just saying, it would be easier to cover for you if Rasmus thought you and Bram snuck off to be alone.”

Bram clears his throat. “She’s not wrong.”

I go hot from my scalp to my toes, open my mouth to speak, and then snap it closed again.

Bram pulls on the back of his neck. Shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He’s obviously as uncomfortable as I am, but still, his eyes grow distant and bright, as if Tessa’s words lit a spark that has caught fire. He paces in front of the railing. “It won’t be easy, but it could work. If Rasmus thinks he knows what you’re up to, he’s less likely to be as vigilant. Especially if you aren’t sneaking off alone, but with another Breaker.”

Tessa doesn’t know what she’s unleashed.

I’ve spent so long studying Gran’s healed bone. Immersed in my other path. Longing for a reality that doesn’t exist. I’m not sure my bruised heart can handle Bram pretending interest where there is none. It might break me.

“Bram, no. You don’t have to …”

His fingers close around my elbow. “I told you I’d help find Latham. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that promise. Even this.”

Even this. The words ricochet in my mind like a bone-crafted arrow, cutting wherever they touch, but never slowing, never losing the power to wound.

Even this. Even this. Even this.

Chapter Thirteen

Latham couldn’t have designed a better way to torture me if he’d planned this himself.

The moment I grudgingly agreed to Tessa’s plan, she waggled her fingers between me and Bram. “You two should start acting cozy right away. Give Rasmus some time to warm up to the idea of you as a couple before we get to Leiden.”

And now Bram and I sit on the deck away from the others, our heads bent together in a conversation that we hope looks intimate but is really anything but.

“This will never work,” I say softly. Rasmus hovers over my shoulder, so I don’t bother trying to mask my worry, but Bram’s face is toward him. He can’t afford to show anything but affection. He gives me an earnest, gentle smile.

“Not with that attitude it won’t.” His voice doesn’t match his tender expression.

“Bram—”