Clare blinked. “What?”
Bennick’s gaze was both grim and intent. “Why would you want to escape? My father said—” He froze, then the lines on his forehead creased deeper. “Fates, I’m so stupid.” He pulled his hand free and took a step back. His throat constricted as he studied her, looking sick. “He threatened you. He made you become the decoy.”
Her breath caught. “You didn’t know.”
Revulsion cut across his tense face. “No. I knew you’d been carried to the prison for questioning, and when I found my father and told him you were innocent, he assured me he’d free you.”
Clare reeled. Bennick hadn’t known about the threats that had bound her to the king. She’d hated him for taking part in the ruination of her life, and he hadn’t known anything about it.
Fury flashed in Bennick’s eyes, his hands balling to fists at his sides. “What happened after you were arrested?”
Slowly, Clare told him. He said nothing, just listened, his jaw working. His anger wasn’t directed at her, but his intensity was unsettling and the story left a foul taste on Clare’s tongue; she rushed to finish.
Bennick’s eyes darted away and he scanned the empty area around them, as if checking to make sure no one had gotten close enough to overhear. “I should have known. Should have realized something was wrong, only . . .”
“You saw my house and family,” she finished softly. “It was obvious we needed the coin. It made sense that I would have been desperate for the position, no matter the danger.”
His eyes pinched shut. “I should have known,” he repeated. “This changes everything. You didn’t choose this.”
Clare stepped up to him, closing the distance he’d claimed. Her fingers itched to take his hand, but she knotted them in her skirt instead. “I was forced into becoming the decoy,” she agreed. “But every day, I’ve made the choice to stay. I’ve experienced more than I ever thought my life could hold, and even though I miss my family, I know they’re being taken care of. They have all they need and that makes everything worth it.”
Her words settled between them and Bennick’s shoulders gradually loosened. His tone was milder—more controlled—when he spoke. “What was done to you is unforgivable. I’m sorry.” He peeked at her, and the heated emotion swimming in his eyes tightened her belly. “I’m just selfish enough to be grateful you’re here.”
When Clare finished her riding lesson, Bennick had already returned to the castle for a meeting to discuss security for Serene’s farewell banquet. She knew Cardon was on his way to fetch her, but she didn’t want to stand in the busy stable waiting for him, so she stepped outside and began a slow walk toward the castle. It was really the first time she’d been alone in weeks and she enjoyed the slight freedom.
As she passed one of the sheds near the edge of the training yard, someone snatched her elbow, jerking her behind the shed. Her heart thudded and she twisted hard, tearing free and spinning to face— “Eliot?”
Her older brother stood in the shadow of the shed, his eyes wide. “You’re fast,” he blurted.
Clare threw her arms around his neck and squeezed so tightly her own lungs burned. His arms came around her waist, crushing her to him. But Eliot couldn’t risk being seen with her. Even though the shed hid them from the training yard, anyone could turn the corner and see them. She pulled back and froze when she realized they weren’t alone.
Eliot still gripped her arms when he followed her gaze to the young man watching them. The stranger was taller than Eliot, his frame more obviously muscled than her brother’s leaner form. He had green eyes and light brown hair that curled a little against his tanned neck. Eliot cleared his throat. “Clare, this is Michael. He’s my friend.”
“A pleasure,” Michael said, giving her a smile as he tipped his head, a curl falling over his brow. He glanced at Eliot. “I’ll see you back at the barracks.” He offered a quick goodbye to Clare before he disappeared.
Clare stared at her brother, confusion swirling through her. “What are you doing here?”
Eliot’s expression tensed. He looked worn, as if he hadn’t slept well in weeks. Stubble coated his usually smooth face and strain bunched his shoulders. His dark blue eyes darted around, almost nervous as he spoke. “I needed to make sure you were all right. After the attack on the orphanage, I’ve been sick with worry.”
“I’m fine, Eliot. Really.” She glanced toward the corner of the shed. “You shouldn’t take this risk—”
Eliot stiffened. “What happened?” he snapped.
Clare realized belatedly that turning had shown him the multicolored bruise on her cheek—the one that hadn’t completely healed from the night of the ball. She tensed. “Nothing.”
His jaw flexed. “That’s too old to be from the attack. Who did this to you?”
She couldn’t tell him the truth—that she’d fallen because of a poisoned necklace she’d worn as the princess’s decoy. “It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
She shook her head. “Eliot, please. Let’s not argue.”
“I know what happened at the orphanage,” he said, anger thrumming in his tone. “I know the boys were there. They came to see you, and you all nearly died. You could have gotten them killed!”
Anger flashed through her, heating her body. “I was terrified for them, but they’re safe. And so am I.”
He scowled. “You’re not. You need to go home.”
Clare took a step back, hands shaking at her sides. “You left home.”
His eyes narrowed. “I had to. You know that.”
“Youleft us,” she groundout. “You didn’t have to cleanThomas’s cuts or tend his blisters after he’d worked a full day in the stable. You didn’t have to settle Mark into bed, hearing the sounds of his starving belly.” She choked, but she
