where the thorns grow

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE,

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE | WHERE THE THORNS GROW

  "I... I CANNOT believe Justine did that," Ronan said in awe. "Holy heavens. Irina looked like she was going to kill her."

  "Thank god," Rhys said in a lowered voice, "both the Prince and the General were a good sport about it."

  Ronan shuddered. "Justine Lan truly has balls of guts."

  "She grew up on the streets. Of course she does. She's probably seen more corpses than we have in our entire lives. She's a bloody general, Ronan," Rhys shook her head as she hurried her steps back to the mansion. "We stayed out far longer than expected. I assume Irina sent word to the daren on behalf of us, but still. Let's go back quickly."

  They went in peacefully, quietly. No one was really around, either out for dinner still or already resting in their rooms. They stopped by the daren's office, giving him a quick briefing of what had been decided. Zhang daren nodded, unsurprised. "It seems the best way to give you both decent protection."

  Ronan and Rhys split ways after that, to their respective rooms. Rhys slammed her door shut behind her, not quite caring whether she bothered anyone—her room was far away enough from the most nearby one it shouldn't be all that loud anyways. One day, she hoped, she wouldn't be the only one on this side of the house. That more rooms would need to be built, more rooms for the female wiccais that would join their ranks. Eventually the world would change. Even the Hatlen Isles, cut off as it was, would evolve slowly with the rest of the world.

  But that was someone else's job. Maybe someday she'd dabble in it, but not now. For now she changed and bathed quickly, preparing herself for some truly well-earned rest.

  The last time she'd been in this room she'd left, expecting it to be the last time she ever laid eyes on it again. But here she was. The letters were gone. Her eyes lingered on the desk where she'd thought she'd written her last message on for a long moment before she tore her gaze away, sucking in a deep breath.

  Everything was okay now.

  Diego Contreras couldn't hurt her anymore. She was free. No longer needing to glance behind her shoulder every time she went anywhere, no need to hide her secrets and her past from the rest of the Wolves. No longer needing to hold herself back.

  She dried her hair with a towel after her long bath, putting on a black nightgown of silk that had been a gift from Cirinique Diao from Arecia. Why she'd gotten a silk nightgown from Arecia when they had plenty of them in Sai, Rhys had never quite understood, but it was comfortable and pretty and made her feel beautiful, so she still wore it regularly.

  She waved her hand, and one set of curtains before a window were pulled aside by a puff of red smoke. Rhys sucked in the night air as she moved closer to it. She'd done this the night she'd been given this room. She'd looked outside for more than ten minutes, noting down every possible hiding spot and potential escape. Just in case Diego had been biding his time and had hunted her down all the way. She hadn't been able to sleep well in her first few days here. Or the first few weeks. Or the months.

  No longer was there any need for that.

  But there was something else she had to deal with first, technically, before she slept.

  Dominic's room was on the floor below hers, quite close to the stairwell. She glanced around to make sure no one was around, even though anyone who saw her walking in wouldn't have suspected anything. Not the first time she'd paid a late night visit to Dom's room, though perhaps never for this exact purpose.