“You also told me I needed to try to adapt to this new life.”
His mouth presses into a thin, grim line.
“By choosing to Trip, that’s what I’m doing. Look, my mom made a choice when she signed me into Arthur’s care, and I made a choice when I agreed to come here. And the irony is, now that I’ve turned eighteen, I technically have the legal agency to leave, but I seriously doubt Arthur would let me. And even if he did, where would I go? Do you honestly think my mom would welcome me back if it meant the end of Arthur’s monthly stipend and gifts?” I sigh. “It’s an ugly truth, but there’s no point denying it. It’s as simple as that. So, if stealing from a bunch of rich people from the past is the price I have to pay to ensure my mom is taken care of, then I guess I’m prepared to accept that.”
Braxton wears a sad expression that leaves his lids heavy, his mouth weighted. “I get it,” he says. “I have a similar story. Most of us do. It’s the only way to make peace with what’s required of us.”
“And besides,” I say. “We’re stealing from nobles, right?”
Tentatively, Braxton nods, but his fingers begin to loosen on mine.
“Well, aren’t those same nobles stealing from the peasants?”
Braxton lets go of my hands and scratches his chin. There’s an uneasy edge in his voice when he says, “I’m not sure I get—”
“Aren’t they essentially stealing the peasants’ labor in order to build and support their own wealth?” I can feel my pulse racing, but that’s probably because I’m getting fired up. “I mean, those poor people live in squalor, with no chance of improving their circumstance. While the rich nobles were born into it—they didn’t earn anything they have. It’s an unfair system, and when I think about it like that, it’s hard to feel bad about taking from them.”
Braxton releases an audible sigh. “You’re not wrong,” he says. “But I just—”
“Look,” I cut in, needing for him to hear me, “despite the moral cost of being here, I can’t pretend I don’t like the person I’ve become since I arrived. For the first time in a long time, I’m excelling at something. And it’s been exciting to discover I have a talent for the sort of things I once would’ve never considered. The girl you met at Arcana was an apathetic failure, but I’m not that girl anymore.”
I hadn’t planned on saying all that, and the sudden outpouring has left me with a bit of a tremor in my belly. My gaze lands on Braxton’s, hoping he’ll understand. And if not, I’ll just keep going until he does.
“I never saw you that way,” Braxton says. “I—”
“All I’m asking is that you support me,” I cut in. “As for everything else, I need to navigate that on my own.”
“Tasha, I’malwaysrooting for you.” Braxton reaches for me again, his fingers squeezing mine until I can feel the curved base of the gold ring that he wears pushing into my flesh. “I just don’t want you to feel compelled to do something you don’t want to just because Arthur asks it of you.”
“I can hold my own,” I tell him, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
His lips tick up at the sides, but the burden remains in the slope of his shoulders, the weightiness of his being. Hoping to ease his worry, if only for a moment, I pull him closer until my mouth covers his.
The kiss is tender and deep, but before it can really take hold, Braxton is drawing away. “I need to go, and you need to rest.” He leaves me with one final sweet press of his lips, then stands to leave.
“Braxton—” I rush to the door before he can leave and pull him back to me. “Thanks,” I say. “For remembering my birthday, and the talisman, and…everything.”
I rise onto my toes, kiss him on the place where his nose hits a bend, then open the door and watch him go.
When he disappears around the corner, I’m about to duck back inside, when I glance down the hall toward Elodie’s room, just in time to see Jago slinking out with his hair disheveled and a satisfied grin on his face.
Looks like Elodie made good on her promise.