Chapter 98

Ronan's POV

Arthur Vale’s codex was written by a man who disliked the Crown before it had a name. By dawn I disliked him a little myself. He could describe a disaster in two precise sentences and leave the next generation to live through the consequences.

Mara had been awake with me for most of the night. She sat at the library desk with her braid undone, one elbow among Elara’s pages, while I copied the marked passages for Soren. Whenever she bent toward the lamp, strands of hair caught against her cheek. I had touched her hair two nights ago because she had said I could. The memory made it difficult to keep my attention on Arthur’s cramped handwriting.

I made tea in the kitchen and brought the mugs back without balancing them on a tray. Mara reached for hers while my fingers still held the handle. Steam warmed the narrow space between our hands