Page 167 of Zenith Tower

Hale stood at the fence with his sleeves rolled above his wrists. The copper of his Mark showed against the weathered wood beneath his forearms. Breakfast had passed without a rider or steward on the road, and he had not relaxed.

I joined him at the rail.

Wind pulled loose the strip of cloth I had used to tie back my hair. Hale caught it against the fence before it blew into the field.

“May I?” he asked.

He held the cloth in one hand. I turned my back to him.

His fingers gathered my hair from my neck. The first touch sent warmth beneath my skin, sharpened by his line at my wrist. He separated the strands and crossed them slowly, careful where knots had dried in overnight. Each measured pull eased the weight away from my face.

“Jonah,” I said. There was no door between us and no bell coming. He closed his eyes, and his hands went still in my hair.

Men had taken my hair down before. No one had ever put it up for me.

When he tied the end, his knuckles brushed my shoulder. The linen around them caught against the wool of my shirt.

“You should be resting your hand.”

“This is resting it.”

I turned within the space of his arms. The farmhouse windows held our reflection against the pale field, close and unhidden in the open air.

“I saw your face when you touched Marrow,” Hale said.

“Caspian and I have already had this conversation.”

“I’m not asking whether you frightened yourself.” His hand settled at the back of my neck, warm beneath the new braid. “I’m asking whether you know I would have stopped you if you couldn’t stop yourself.”

I studied him. “You think that should comfort me?”

“You shouldn’t have to be the only one watching for the point where it becomes too much.”

“I know,” I said.

Hale bent his forehead to mine. His breath warmed my cheek, and the bond between us answered with a low copper heat rather than the violence it had known in the Tower.

“Remember it,” he said.

We stayed at the fence until Cosima called us back to the house.

Lior had brought Delphine’s letters into the kitchen. They filled a narrow wooden box, each one folded along the same softened creases and tied with blue thread. Delphine sat before them with her repaired hand resting on the lid.

“He kept all of them?” she asked.

“Every week,” Lior said. “Even when you had nothing to say. The last one came six days before the school told us you were gone.”

She lifted the top letter but did not unfold it. “Will you read them with me?”

“As many as you want.”

Cosima sat across from them. Rev remained by the stove,giving the siblings what privacy a crowded kitchen allowed. Caspian and Kieran had taken the two chairs nearest the fire. Hale stood beside me with his shoulder touching mine.

“There is another house farther west,” Cosima told Delphine. “Lior can take you there before the first packet leaves. Your statement has been copied, and nothing here depends on you staying.”

Lior looked at his sister. He wanted her to say yes. He also knew better than to say it for her.

Delphine traced the blue thread around the letters. “Could we go home?”