Free Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) by Shannon Messenger Page B

small silver chests on the top shelf.
    Sophie had searched them a few weeks before, when she’d first seen Jolie in Prentice’s memories. But she’d been rushing at the time, so it was probably worth a second look.
    The first chest was filled with old toys and dolls and dried flowers and all kinds of other things that probably had sentimental stories behind them, but were still really just a bunch of junk. The other chest was filled with letters.
    Jolie’s fiancé, Brant, had sent her hundreds of love letters while she was living in the elite towers in her final years at Foxfire, declaring over and over how much he cared for her and missed her and would be useless without her. Reading them felt like eavesdropping on a private conversation—an especially mushy conversation at that. But Sophie skimmed each one, just in case there was something important in them.
    “What are you doing up?” Grady asked from the doorway, making her jump so hard she dropped all the letters.
    “Sorry,” he said, squatting to help her pick them up. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
    His eyes were rimmed with shadows and his blond hair was caked with sand. But the smile he gave her was 100 percent Grady.
    “I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispered, hugging him tight.
    “Yeah, me too. The dwarven caverns are not my favorite place to visit.” He shook his head, showering them both with sand. “So what’s keeping you up? More nightmares?”
    “Kind of.”
    She told him about the tracker and the footprints, and Sandor’s worries about the ogres, hating how tense Grady looked by the end of it.
    All he said was, “Sounds like you’ve had a strange day. And I can see why you couldn’t sleep. But what are you doing in here?” He scanned one of the letters. “Are these from Brant?”
    “Love letters,” Sophie agreed.
    Grady read aloud. “‘You’re the spark, the kindling, the flame that never dies. The beauty and the wonder of the ever-burning skies.’ That is some seriously sappy stuff.”
    He smiled, and Sophie tried to join him, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Brant’s scarred, ruined face. He’d been caught in the fire with Jolie—and even though he’d escaped with his life, his grief and guilt at not being able to save her had destroyed him more than the flames.
    Grady cleared his throat as he handed the letters back to her. “So what made you want to get up in the middle of the night and read a bunch of gooey love letters? Did a boy inspire this?”
    “No!” Sophie said, probably too quickly. “I just . . . wanted to get to know Jolie—and Brant,” she added, pointing to the letters.
    Grady’s brows crunched together, and he opened his mouth to say something. Then shook his head.
    “What?”
    “Nothing. It’s late. We can talk more in the morning.”
    “Uh, you know I’m imagining a billion terrible things now, right?”
    He sighed, tracing his hands down his face before he said, “Fine. I know how vivid your imagination can be. But this is your choice—and Edaline and I will support you one hundred percent, regardless of what you decide.”
    “Okay,” Sophie said slowly. “So . . . ?”
    Grady bit his lip and turned to stare at the framed pictures on Jolie’s desk. “I’d like to file a petition with the Council, requesting permission for you to heal Brant.”

ELEVEN
    S OPHIE KNEW WHAT GRADY WAS hoping she’d say, what she should say, what she wanted to say.
    But she couldn’t make her mouth form the words.
    “I think it’s high time we both get some sleep,” Grady said after an endless stretch of silence. “We can continue this conversation in the morning—or whenever you’re ready, no matter how long that might be.”
    Sophie managed a nod.
    Neither of them said anything as they made their way up the stairs to her bedroom. But as Grady tucked her in, he whispered, “I’ll always love you no matter what—and Edaline will too. You know that, right?”
    “I love you too,” she