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“Yet, you’re one of the most complex people I know.”

Dawsyn’s head whips around. “How so?”

“You’re impenetrably stern, yet you care more than most.”

Careis not what she does. “I–”

“You’re fierce and confident… but scared.”

She bristles. “I’m–”

“You crave safety, and yet you see any offer of protection as a threat.”

“It usuallyisa threat,” she argues.

“I would have married you,” Hector says now. “I told you enough times. We could have helped each other on the Ledge. Did you think me a threat?”

Dawsyn hesitates a beat too long. “Of course not.”

“But you didn’t marry me. You wouldn’t sleep in my cabin. I could have offered myself for Selection in your place as well as my mother’s. You’re too practical to pass up an offer like that out of pride, so I can only assume it was fear that stopped you.”

“You can’t honestly believe I fear you,” Dawsyn scoffs, knocking her shoulder into his. “I once pinned you down by the throat until you admitted to stealing my sword.”

“It was a miniature wooden sword.”

“It wasmywooden sword.”

“Regardless, no. I don’t believe you fear me, or anyone else,” Hector continues. “But I think you fear anyone knowing you well. I think you fear becoming predictable to another. You see safety in distance.”

Dawsyn only stares at her friend, her face blank and impassive. She has always considered him to be a source of comfort. He was familiar. Indeed, he knew her better than anyone else on the Ledge. He has watched her grow from a girl to a woman, watched her traverse the loss of her family members, one at a time. If anyone could define her in the scope of words, it would be him.

If only he weren’t so probing. So unsparing. Some things ought not to be brought out and inspected. Some stones should remain unturned.

So that you can continue to run from yourself?some invasive thought asks. And there it is once more, this slowly expanding awareness in some forgotten crevice, deep in her mind. A place not yet explored. A corner that was squashed and sealed to make room for far more vital occupations, like hunger, defence, survival. But now, away from the Ledge, where it isn’t so difficult to keep her heart beating, those new, niggling thoughts begin to flourish from their roots, creeping outward like vine, finally forcing her to look inward, to dissect herself.

“You’re not going to pin me down again, are you?” Hector asks.

Dawsyn grins wanly. “I might.”

At that moment, the sound of footfalls on the leaf-strewn path interrupts them and they look up to see Ryon and Rivdan passing with pails full of water. Rivdan nods to Dawsyn and Hector in his genial way, but Ryon doesn’t offer any pleasantries. He stares at the two of them as he passes, his eyes flitting back and forth, growing darker. His knuckles around the handles become strained, and for a moment there is a glimpse of his wings. He diverts his stare, placing his attention purposefully on the back of Rivdan’s head. Dawsyn feels the necklace on her chest grow cool again as he leaves.

Hector pokes Dawsyn’s hand. It is curled into a tight ball on top of her knee, her nails biting into the flesh of her palm. “Of all the people for you to fall for, I would never have guessed it would be a Glacian.”

“Half-Glacian. And I did notfall–”

“Your cheeks are flushed, Dawsyn, and you’re wound so tightly I fear you’ll burst.”

Dawsyn shakes out her fingers, realising too late that her breaths are coming rather fast for one sitting so idle.

“I assume from the glowering that he knows about… our past?”

“He does,” Dawsyn murmurs.

“And is he aware that there is no romance between us?”

Dawsyn rolls her eyes. “I told him as much.”

“Good. Perhaps he won’t kill me in my sleep.”