Not the romantic end to the evening he was looking for.
Her father finally came all the way forward, and that was when she saw that he had something in his hand. A piece of paper.In lieu of an answer, he offered whatever it was to her.
What is this? she said as she took the thing.Oh … my God, she breathed. My God…It was the application to the Brotherhood’s training program. And he had filled all of it out, in his own hand.
Father! Leaping up, she threw her arms around him. Thank you! Thank you!He held on to her. It’s a safety issue, he said roughly. I just … you’re right. You need to learn how to fight. The idea that sometime you might be unprotected in some capacity… He pulled back. You’re right. You need to learn.
He was clearly, in the words of Peyton, shitting Twinkies at the thought—but that was what made the gesture so grand. Even though he was scared … he was going to let her go anyway.
Thank you, she said, grabbing onto him. I’ll be careful! I promise!Fortunately, the ink that had been used first had stained the parchment, sinking into the very fiber of the paper.
They had doctored the infant’s as well.The newborn had been the rightful heir to the throne according to the stars.
As the implications sank in, Catra opened her lids and looked over her shoulder. s’Ex had his back to her and was struggling with someone—or, rather, someone was struggling against the executioner’s hold.When s’Ex turned around, the Chief Astrologer, in his red robing, was up against that enormous body, locked in a grip that was so tight, she could hear the labored breathing under that ceremonial hood.