“I discovered interesting information about the myth of fae mates while in Velmara. Would that be of interest to either of you?” I stiffen, instantly understanding what she’s looking for. She knows mates are real, suspects Thorne and I are connected in that way, and wants to determine if we know before she says anything more.

“It would, yes,” I say with a nod, the closest I’m going to come to admitting the truth. Nemesia nods, indicating she understands what I’m saying and the relationship between Thorne and me.

“Mazus knows. About the two of you, and your connection. It’s why he sent Prince Hawthorne here,” she finally admits, emotion returning to her somber eyes, body straightening itself to resemble the female I know. “Beyond that, I know nothing more of his motivation. I’ve already translated the section on mates from the book in Old Fae I brought with me. I wasn’t able to bring my notes with me, so I’ll have to copy it all out again to share it with you.”

“Why would you help us?” I ask, my voice tentative and questioning, seeking any clue in her expression or answer to help me determine whether I can trust her.

She deflates once again. “El, you must believe me. I did not send that letter to the rebels. I intended it for you. I don’t know how it got to the rebels. They must be working with Mazus.” Her eyes are pleading.

I believe her, despite my desperation to hold her at arm’s length until we can prove without a doubt that she’s not working with the rebels. The realization makes me question my sanity. Am I so desperate for my old friend that I’ll believe anything to erase the months of heartbreak and betrayal I’ve felt? I fear that my trust will be misplaced. Fear it will be a mistake I deeply regret. But Nemesia has been by my side my entire life—if she wanted to betray me, it would have been so easy in the early years, when I was a complete mess after the war. Even if her opinion of me has recently changed, I just can’t believe she would work with the rebels. But I’m not ready to admit this to her.