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"For a dying realm, you all sure have a lot of leather," I said, grateful for the deflection.

A smile almost quirked at his lips. "Well, we don't skin a cow everytime someone enters the Umbra, if that's what you're implying." He paused, looking me up and down before his gaze fell on the window. "We do have reserves of it from across the realm." The words came out awkward, like he wasn't quite sure why he was explaining this.

"So, what can I do for you?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Must we stand in the doorway?"

I angled my head at him, suspicion creeping in, but stepped aside to let him enter. His presence immediately made the room feel smaller, more confined. He moved to the window, and I found myself studying the way the dim light caught on his piercings, how the shadows beneath his skin seemed at peace.

A silence stretched between us, punctuated by strange, almost awkward glances. I kept waiting for his request, his task, whatever reason had brought him here. But he just stood there, like he had all the time in the world.

"Playing nice now that you got what you wanted?" I finally asked.

"Just coming to gloat, really." His eyes met mine, that hint of a smile returning.

"To gloat? That's unbecoming," I shot back.

"You're the one who came flying out of the Void like you were putting on a performance." His tone was dry, but there was something almost like amusement in his eyes.

"Well, someone had to make you look good." I couldn't help but match his sarcasm. "Your reputation was at stake after all."

"My reputation?" One eyebrow arched. "And here I thought you were convinced I was just a glorified jailer."

"Weren't you?"

That almost-smile twitched at his lips again. "You know, most people would show more gratitude to someone who just came to check on them."

"Gratitude?" I pressed a hand to my chest in mock offense. "Should I thank you for all those times you threw me into the training mat too?"

"You're welcome."

I shot him a narrowed look before returning to the bed, slipping the sleeve of a black uniform through a hanger. If he was just going to stand there and look pleased with himself, I might as well continue with my organizing.

"In all seriousness, I did actually come here to thankyou," he said from behind me.

Something in his tone made me pause, my hands stilling on the leather. When I turned to face him, the amusement had faded from his eyes, replaced by something more intense.

"For Lael," he continued, his voice lower now. "You didn't have to do that. To risk yourself like that." He hesitated, and I could see him wrestling with something. "How did you even find him in there?"

I thought back to that endless darkness, to the feeling of Lael's body beneath my hands. "I just... did. I couldn't leave him there." The memory of that terrifying voice echoed in my mind, of the bargain I'd struck. But I pushed it away. It didn't seem like the time to discuss it. I wasn't sure if I ever would.

"Only one other person has ever done that," he said quietly. "The Queen. When she found me."

The admission hung in the air between us. I studied his face, noting how the shadows beneath his eyes seemed to deepen at the mention of it. For once, I decided to push.

"How much do you remember? From before she found you?"

His jaw tightened, but he didn't immediately shut me down like he usually did. "Nothing." He moved to the window, his fingers absently tracing one of his void burns. "It's like my life began in that darkness."

"But thirty-five years..." I hesitated, then pressed on. "You don't look?—"

"Older?" That ghost of a smile returned, but it held no humor. "Another mystery, I'm afraid."

"Do you ever wonder who you were? Before?"

He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally turned back to me, something had shifted in his golden eyes. "One memory seemed to slip past the Void. But it doesn't tell me much."

Realization washed over me.