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“I’m pretty sure I could’ve figured it out.”

Skye didn’t answer, only buckled on his tool belt before kneeling to rummage through his pack.

“Hey.” Kato caught his arm. “Will you take a minute to breathe? I can hear you grinding your teeth.”

Skye ripped his arm away. Kato trying to comfort him felt… unnatural. Like watching a cat trying to walk on its hind legs.

“Look,” Kato went on, un-fazed. “All I’m saying is that no one would’ve blamed you if you wanted to stay close to her. I wasn’t there, but grimy sewer beasts handing out royal accessories isn’t exactly routine.”

Skye’s mouth twisted, humorless. “Exceptshedoesn’t want me there. That’s the part you’re missing. Taly won’t even look at me right now.”

Kato grimaced. “I take it she didn’t take the bloodcrafting news well then? Even with you riding in on your morally ambiguous high horse?”

A short, sharp breath. “I never got the chance to tell her.”

“What’s wrong with her then?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Skye muttered, still tearing through his pack. “She won’t tell me a Shards-damned thing. And it’s—it’s not like I’ve been hovering, or asking for anything, or standing in her way. I’ve done everything right. I’ve kept my distance. I haven’t pushed. And somehow that just makes it worse.”

With a growl, he tossed the damned bag to the floor and rubbed at his eyes.

It wasn’t anything new. Just more of the same. The same distance. The same way she always shut down when things got too big, too fast. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t killing him.

She hadn’t said a word about the cistern—just brushed it off like it was nothing. Like the monster in the dark, the crown glowing at its feet, hadn’t looked right at her. Hadn’t looked athim.

Ivain had assured him that it wasn’t a predator like the grimble. More a creature of opportunity, he’d called it—something that saw a chance, took it, and now that it had failed, wouldn’t try again.

By all accounts, it was over. Taly was safe from Weave beasts—for the moment. Skye tried to believe it. Maybe he would’ve if she didn’t keep glancing over her shoulder when no one was there.

“I’m tired, Kato,” he said, voice flat with the weight of it. “I’m so fucking tired of watching her come apart and pretending I don’t see it. Like it’s notpainfullyobvious. She hasn’t gone near the piano. Not once. And that was supposed to be the point, wasn’t it? All that bullshit, everything she did to get her power back, and she won’t even—”

He cut himself off with a low growl, jaw clenched. “Sorry. I’ve seen her dig in before, but this… this feels different.”

She was jumpy. Fractured. She could barely meet his eyes—or anyone’s.

“I see her on the roof a lot,” Kato offered.

“Yeah, that’s where Aiden keeps his mirthroot stash.” Which, if Skye had a choice in the matter, he preferred over some of her other escapes. Mirthroot made her quiet. Whiskey made her dangerous—and not in the good way. “Did you know she has a tattoo now?”

Kato shrugged. “Everyone has tattoos.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t. And now she does.Can you read this?”

Kato blinked. “Is this a segue, or a concussion?”

“No, that’s what it says. On her arm.‘Can you read this?’”

“Wait—seriously?” Kato raised an eyebrow, clearly grasping for something else to say before settling on, “Well, I think it’s great she’s taking such an interest in Ryme’s literacy rate.”

Skye scowled at him. “That’s helpful. Thanks for that.”

He shoved himself up from the cot and stalked toward the tent flap.

“Hey.”

Skye turned, waiting.

Once more, the cat lifted onto its hind legs, wobbling in quiet defiance of the natural order. “I’m here… if you want to talk or whatever. Not that I’m great at it, obviously. But, well… the offer stands.”