Chapter 29
AUGUST
Imade a mistake. A dangerous mistake. I let her go.
My hands were still clenched. The dull ache of impact settled into my knuckles where they had collided with the stone wall. The pain was grounding, something to hold onto in the storm brewing inside me. But it wasn’t enough to silence the voices in my head.
I had disobeyed.
For the first time in my life, I had gone against my father’s orders. I had let a Weaver go. I had let her live. And for what?
My jaw locked as I stalked through the dim corridors of the Spire, my footsteps heavy against the cold stone floor. My men would be returning soon, their search of the woods coming up empty. Another failure. Another reason for my father to question me.
I needed to pull myself together. This meant nothing. But my fingers still curled involuntarily, remembering the way the girl had trembled beneath my grip. How her breath had come in short, panicked gasps. How her eyes had looked so much like Lily’s.
My shoulders settled with a slow breath caught behind my teeth.
That was it, wasn’t it? That was the reason my resolve had cracked.
Because when that girl had looked at me, it wasn’t her I saw—it was Lily.
Challenging all I'd been taught with her sharp historian's logic.
Defending Weavers like they were people—not monsters, not threats—just people.
Looking at me like I was the one who needed to see clearly, like I was the one standing on the wrong side of history.
I had spent years perfecting the art of seeing nothing. Of looking into the eyes of those accused and feeling nothing. It had been necessary, because feeling meant weakness, and weakness was something my father never tolerated.
And yet, for the first time, I had faltered. I had seen something. And I had let it change me.
I had to fix this. I had to push her—Lily—out. Because whatever this was, whatever momentary lapse had taken hold of me today, it could never happen again.
It wasn't weakness. It was a mistake. And mistakes were something I never made twice.
The house was too quiet. I had returned home without a word, retreating into my study before anyone could ask questions.
The weight of my coat pressed down on me, suffocating, but I hadn't moved to take it off.
My knuckles throbbed, a sharp reminder of my lapse in control.
With slow, deliberate movements, I pulled the bloodied cloth from my hand, reaching for the fresh bandages on my desk.
The silence pressed in on me, thick and heavy, wrapping around my ribs like a vice.
It wasn’t often that I was alone in my thoughts. And I hated it.
I reached for the decanter on the small table, pouring a glass of whiskey with fingers that betrayed nothing of the chaos inside me. The amber liquid sloshed as I brought it to my lips, letting the burn settle deep in my chest.
The door swung open without warning. I barely had time to look up before Adeline strode in, followed closely by Lily.
My grip tightened around the bandage. Of course. Of course it had to be her.
Adeline’s gaze swept over me, sharp and knowing, before landing on my bruised, bloodied knuckles. She gave me a pointed look. “Rough day?”
I exhaled through my nose, setting the bandage aside. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Lily hadn’t said a word, but I could feel her. She hovered just inside the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Adeline sighed, shaking her head. “Let me guess. You did something stupid.”
I didn’t answer.
She grabbed my hand before I could protest, turning it over to examine the damage. “Saints, August. You need better ways of handling your anger.”
I smirked. “And here I thought violence was my best trait.”
Adeline rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
Lily, however, did.
“Violence always comes at a cost. You just make sure other people pay it,” she said, quiet but cutting.
My jaw ticked. “Easy to judge when you've never had to make that choice.”
She lifted her chin, blue eyes burning. “Maybe not. But I've watched you make yours. And I don't think it cost me nearly as much as it's costing you.”
I held her gaze, neither of us willing to break first.
Adeline sighed. “For heaven's sake, just kill each other already and be done with it.”
I huffed a dry laugh, but Lily didn’t so much as crack a smile. No. She was studying me. Watching. Too damn closely.
Then, to my surprise, Lily stepped forward.
She grabbed the bandage from where I had left it, unrolling it with quick, practiced movements before she knelt beside my chair and took my wrist in her hands.
I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“You’re making a mess of it,” she muttered.
The warmth of her fingers pressed against my skin, careful but unyielding.
I could have yanked away. I should have.
Instead, I observed her the way one observes lightning: transfixed by the beauty, mindful of the danger.
The moment the cloth tightened, a tremor ran through me—as though her touch were stitching something I couldn't afford to let heal.
Adeline smirked. “Well, this is interesting.”
“Shut up,” Lily muttered, tightening the bandage just enough to sting.
“Taking out your frustrations on me?” I said.
“Someone has to.”
The words were sharp, but there was something else beneath them.
I narrowed my eyes, watching her more closely. She was doing everything in her power to avoid my gaze.
“Something's wrong,” I said. “What is it?”
Her fingers faltered. She didn't answer. Just finished tying off the bandage with sharp, angry movements and stood.
“Lily—”
“You leave ruin everywhere you go,” she muttered, turning away.
I leaned into the chair-back, testing the wrap. “I didn’t request a nurse.”
“No. But violence offends me. Even self-inflicted violence.” She wouldn't meet my eyes. I hated it. Hated all of it.
The way she was looking at me now. The weight behind it. I needed to push her away.
“Don't think this changes anything. You may play the part of a lost historian well, but I know there's more to you than that.”
Something flickered across her face—hurt, disappointment—before she schooled her features back to neutrality.
“Believe me, August. I don’t care what you think.”
But the slight tremor in her hands as she set down the bandage roll told a different story. I let her have it. Because I needed her to stop looking at me like that.
I reached for the whiskey again as Adeline sighed. “Come on, Lily. Let’s leave him to wallow in whatever self-loathing spiral he’s got going on.”
Lily hesitated. Then she turned and followed Adeline out.
I rubbed a thumb over the fresh bandage, knuckles pulsing beneath linen. This was exactly what I wanted. What I needed. Then why the hell did it feel like I was losing?