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Then I cast a look at the tall, blackwood clock ticking away in the corner of the bedchamber. The time shown is enough to grumble my chest with a sigh.

I push up with a grunt, then start on my boot laces.

Dare expects me on the roof in fifteen minutes and I don’t want to know what he’ll do if I’m late and he has to come looking for me.

I plan on being punctual so I don’t learn the answer to that.

“Remember the flat above the tavern?” he says delicately, carefully.

My teeth bite down, hard.

Jaw clenched, I cut my gaze down to the rug.

I’d forgotten.

In all my selfish woes, I had forgotten all about Eamon’s desire to abandon me for Kithe.

Now I deflate with a heavy breath and just look at him from beneath my lashes.

I wait for the more that is to come.

Eamon stretches out onto his side, the stalk loose in his kiss, his eyes burning like embers behind a cloud of silvery vapours. He looks ever wicked. “There’s an old tavern in the middle of Kithe—and they are selling. Both the flat and the tavern.”

My throat tenses. I swallow back the swell and nod, slow.

More than just a flat, just a dwelling, this is establishment in a place that is not home. This is Eamon making a new home.

He adds, “Ridge and I were going to have a look.”

“You’re buying a tavern?” I drop my done laces and twist around to glare dully at him. “With Ridge?”

If anyone should be in on this with him, it’s me.

Outrage sears through me and burns my eyes, but a lethargy blankets me, like I’ve spent all my emotions, all my cries and shouts, and now all that I have left are mere scraps, some glowers or rolled eyes, not much more.

“I’mconsideringthe purchase,” he corrects. “And no, not with Ridge. He’s only coming along. This will be an independent move for me. Besides an investor,” he draws the stalk from his lips, “or you,” he winks, “I want to do this on my own.”

The frown is stuck to my face, and I’m sure I must look stupid. “What investor? You have one?”

The smile he gives is as bitter as the valerian smoke clouding my bedchamber. “None at all. That is why it will stay a dream.”

“But if you were to do this,” I start and take a step closer to him, “then you would live here. In the Midlands. In Kithe.”

“Yes,” he says gently, a simmer in his eyes, a gleam of pity.

Anything goes in the Midlands. The laws are fractured, weak, and blended here. I suppose Eamon has decided it wouldn’t be so bad to live here. I suppose now that the order of the honour duel has been served, Eamon’s realized a danger in returning to Licht. A danger that is just too great.

From the realization, once-ideas have strengthened to bones.

And I’m late to catch up to that glaring reality. That Eamon might not be too safe in his return home.

But…

“What about me?” I ask, soft.

Selfish Nari.

He reaches out his hand for me.