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“I’ll need to get started right away. Take off your cloak. I need new measurements.” He pulled out a tape measure.

“Why?” I asked him. He hadn’t taken my measurements the last time.

“Because you look better than when I last saw you.” His eyes scanned my body and the high cut of my cheeks. I’d noticed small shifts in my body since I left Aralinth, but I didn’t realize they were noticeable to anyone else. My body had gotten stronger since I stopped drinking, muscles that had disappeared pulled taut along my clothes. The swelling along my jaw and belly had gone. Even the luster of my hair had returned.

Wilden unfurled his measuring tape and got to work.

I walked down the street, stepping around beggars who slept on the ground. I drew my hood farther down my face. It felt wrong passing the hungry with a bag full of gold, but I was still wearing my black cloak and silver fastener. I needed to keep up my reputation as long as possible.

I slipped into one of the alleyways to cut through the crowd. I walked briskly down the tight corridor when the shape of two figures caught my eye. I turned and saw Riven talking to someone down a branch of the alley.

Both their faces were blanketed in shadow, but I would recognize Riven’s brooding mass in the pitch of night. The alley didn’t lead anywhere. A few feet behind them was the tall back of a brick building. The only reason to meet someone there was to avoid being seen or overheard.

My instinct was to retreat into the shadows and scale the wall onto the roof of the nearby building. My eyes were already scanning to find a perch. But Riven wasn’t a target. I knew we’d never be friends, but something pulled at my stomach at the idea of spying on an ally.

He didn’t completely trust me, but I’d gained some favor since we left the Faeland. If he caught me spying, that favor would be forgotten. I watched Riven slip a package into the man’s hand before I turned and walked away.

The man had been young, dressed in a burgundy tunic and well-cut trousers. The uniform of assistants at the House of Harvest. But what did Riven need brought in that we couldn’t bring ourselves?

I shook off the question. I didn’t trust Riven with everything either, but that wasn’t what this alliance was.Need to know. The words echoed through my mind. Riven had respected that, for the most part. I would do the same. The only thing I needed was for him to help end the king.

For that, I trusted him completely.

I stopped beside a stall selling soaps. Tall glass bottles were stacked in piles along the edge of the cart. Each one of their stoppers was a different pastel color that glimmered in the setting sunlight. I picked up a bottle that smelled of birch and inhaled its freshness. I’d never had a home, but something about the scent brought me more comfort than anything else.

“Did you find something suitable?” Riven asked, materializing behind me. I nodded, taking another whiff of the bottle, my eyes closing to savor the aroma. I offered a small smile to the merchant in payment for his lack of sale.

“Nik found us rooms on the east side of the city.”

“The Cornstalk?” I guessed. It was small but clean.

Riven nodded, and we walked to pick up our horses in silence. The suns cast streaks of lavender through the sky. It would be dark by the time we reached the inn.

I followed Riven’s horse. The days of travel were starting to take their toll. My body ached where it met the saddle, longing for a night’s rest on a soft mattress instead of a thin cushion on the ground.

Riven fetched the keys as I boarded the horses. He came back holding a single black key and a crumpled note in his hand. “Nik and Syrra went to bed already. He says there were only two rooms, so they left us the key to one.” He crumpled the parchment in his fist. Apparently, I had not gained as much favor as I thought.

He couldn’t bear to share a room with me.

I froze with a saddle in my hands. I’d been so excited to sleep in a room, in a bed. A night spent not worrying about Shades or traffickers stumbling upon us. But mostly, sleeping without worrying about my clothes shifting and revealing my scars.

Riven had only just stopped looking at me like I was a monster. Exposing the endless list of names I’d carved into my skin would only prove him right.

We walked into a room on the second floor, and I realized why Riven was so upset. The room was tiny, only wide enough for a small bath and bed.

One bed.

It was large enough to fit the both of us, but barely. We would be too close to ignore each other’s bodies. I’d have preferred to sleep on a bedroll, but they weren’t in the room. There was no space for one anyway.

My pouch was sitting on the dresser. I picked it up and unbuckled the top. The only thing inside was a change of clothes and my nightgown.

My body turned to ice. I’d never shared a room with anyone since my Trials. While sharing a bed was less than ideal, that wasn’t what stopped my breath. We weren’t camped outside, under the cool light of the moons, wearing layers of clothing under our coverlets to keep warm. We were in a heated inn.

I didn’t have anything to sleep in that hid my scars.

Riven turned around and noticed my rigid stance. “I can sleep on the floor,” he said, crossing his arms. His low rasp was less harsh than usual, but still annoyed.

“No,” I replied too quickly. “It’s fine.” There was no way his hulking frame would fit on the floor.