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Everyone declines, so Kyrie trickles a little into her glass. So little that it’s clear she didn’t want a refill; she was helping me out.

Damon’s jaw tightens visibly when I reach for the water pitcher, filling my own glass. Thesha’s dark eyes never leave my face, calculating and cold. Each time our gazes meet, she doesn’t look away or try to hide her suspicion. If anything, she seems to want me to know I’m being evaluated and found wanting.

I’m used to it, but it still stings.

Maya tries to include me again, asking about the different types of magic I’ve studied, but even her kindness feels strained, careful. I can tell she’s torn between wanting to be welcoming and wanting to side with her friends…her husband, too.

Kian’s shoulders grow more rigid as the evening progresses. “This is delicious, Kyrie.” His voice is clipped. His plate is also still half-full, even though it feels like we’ve been eating for an age. Despite my gnawing hunger when we arrived, I have to work to finish the food on my plate, not wanting to waste anything.

As soon as I push away my empty plate, I practically leap at the chance to escape outside.

“If no one minds, I’d like to go and clean my teeth before bed,” I say, not meeting anyone’s eyes as I stand, picking up my plate and glass.

“Of course we don’t mind,” Kian says. “Leave those. I’ll wash up.” He gives me a tight smile.

“Thanks.” I leave the dishes, then head out before anyone can stop me. I’m tired. I need some rest. I’m sure things will be better come morning. They usually are.

I take a lantern as I leave and walk down to the lake. It’s quiet out. The night air is crisp and clean, a blessed relief after the suffocating atmosphere inside. I make my way down to the water, grateful for the solitude. The water is cold but refreshing as I splash it on my face and hands, washing away the grime of travel.

Above me, the sky is black. I know that the thick haze is there, even though I can’t see it. It blocks out everything. Then again, I crane my neck, seeing what looks like a blink of a single star. There for a few moments and then gone. I smile. Here, in this pocket of preserved life, even the night sky seems more alive than usual. I hope that the lost kings can bring the realm back to life and take down the queen. I will do everything in my power to help them, even if they don’t trust me.

I take my time, reluctant to return to the cabin and more awkward conversation. But eventually, the cold drives me back, my damp hair clinging to my shoulders.

The main room is empty except for Kian. I sigh in relief. He has changed into fresh clothes, which comprise clean brown breeches and a cream-colored tunic that emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders and the defined muscles of his chest. His blond hair is damp from washing, and he is freshly shaven, revealing the strong line of his jaw.

My breath catches in my throat. Kakara preserve me, but he’s handsome. I’ve been trying not to notice, trying to focus on survival and getting home, but here in the warm lamplight, he’s…striking. The way the tunic clings to his frame, the casual way he runs a hand through his golden hair, the vivid green of his eyes when they meet mine. I would have to be blind not to see it.

I want to take him in some more but force myself to look away before he catches me staring. I pretend to look out of the window, even though there is nothing to see but pitch blackness.

“The others have retired for the evening,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. “That isn’t a barn outside but rather their sleeping quarters.”

I turn to face him. The cabin suddenly feels very small with just the two of us here.

“Kyrie left these for you.” He gestures to a pile of folded garments on the table. “A dress and a clean chemise. She thought they might fit.”

My heart warms when I look at the clothing. Moreover, at the color of the dress. It is a beautiful pale yellow, my favorite color. Perhaps I am not as unwanted as I thought. Maya and Kyrie are trying; that much is clear.

“That is very kind of her.” I touch a hand to my neck, absently feeling for the amulet that is no longer there. I wore it for so long that it almost became a part of me. Then I lift the simple dress, which looks to be about my size. The smock is made from clean linen, soft to the touch. After days in my torn and muddy clothes, the prospect of something clean and whole is almost overwhelming.

Kian turns his back to me, facing the wall. “Go ahead and change. I won't look, I promise.”

I hesitate for a moment, then quickly strip out of my soiled clothes and into the fresh ones. The dress fits well, if a bit loose in places where I’ve lost weight during our ordeal. The fabric is soft against my skin, and I have to bite back a sigh of relief.

“You can turn around now.”

He does as I say, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. I get this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

He swallows and looks away.

“Where are we sleeping?” I ask to diffuse the tension that has crept into the room, making the air thick and my undergarments prickly against my skin.

His gaze moves to mine, and he gets this look.

“That’s the thing,” Kian says. “The sleeping arrangements are…they’re…a bit of a problem. There’s only one pallet here in the cabin,” he gestures to the bed, “since the others are using the barn, and…” He trails off.

“And?” I urge him on, even though I know exactly where this is going.

There is definite conflict written across his features. “We’ll have to share the cabin. There’s nowhere else except the chicken coop.”