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“… And anyone who thinks I’m causing more problems than I’m solving.” He looked over at Grace.

She frowned at him playfully. “Put me at the top of the list.”

What started as a laugh faded into a sigh. “I don’t get it, Grace. I just don’t understand why you’re so resistant to this rebellion. I wasn’t supposed to be the Rogue,youwere.”

“How is it you know that?” Grace didn’t bother denying. She trusted this man. Besides, he’d hinted that he knew a few times already, and he’d obtained a verdure cloak somehow. Calm, non-accusatory questions seemed to encourage this man to open.

It took a full minute for the Rogue to answer. With the mask still in place, Grace couldn’t read his expression enough to guess what he was thinking, so she kept staring ahead, shoulder to shoulder.

Finally, the Rogue answered. “Jonathan.”

“Jonathan Ferrer?” That wasn’t what she’d expected. But then, what other ways were there for him to learn of herplanned rebellion? Russell didn’t know, Mother and Father were too tight-lipped, and any plans had been discussed within the confines of the forest fortress.

The Rogue chuckled. “He’d slap me upside the head if he knew I’d told you that, but he’s not here.”

“Serves him right, then.” Grace winced. She sounded bitter.

“Don’t blame him too much for leaving. He didn’t want to.”

Grace’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll wait for him to tell me that himself, thank you very much. What makes you so sure?”

“He started training me,” the Rogue said.

“Training you?” Grace looked at the Rogue now—turned to him, skirts swishing against the floor—and ended with her knee pressing against his calf, unwilling to lose the simple, small connection to him.

The Rogue hesitated, staring at Grace, watching her reactions. Finally, he nodded. “I caught him coming out of the forest in a cloak once. I threatened to report him. Would have, too, at that age.”

Grace stilled. “But you didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Jonathan told me he could teach me to stand up for myself, to make a difference, to…” He glanced at Grace. “…to be seen.”

Grace squirmed.You haven’t truly seen me a day in your life.

“He gave you a verdure cloak, didn’t he?”

The Rogue nodded. “Told me to wait for Grace Robbins to take up the charge. That I’d find my way to join in the fight.”

“Ahh,” Grace sighed. “But I never did.”

“And he also told me you’d never trust me, if I told you…if you knew who I was.”

Understanding and utter irritation descended on Grace all at once. “That stubborn, dunderheaded, turn-coat of a secret teller. He’s the one who left. Why are you listening to him more than me?”

The Rogue shifted, pulling his leg away. Grace sensed more than saw him harden. Curses, she’d let her emotions rule her. Accusations did not work with this man.

Grace thought of James and the way he’d responded to her that day in the field. Had she been accusatory then? She’d been intense, at the very least. Anxious to convince him the destruction had to stop.

But he didn’t always bluster. With the mask on, he either closed off or offered calm, if ardent, explanations and teasing.

It still felt like two different people.

I’m different in this disguise.That’s what he’d told her. Was that really all it was?

She was being too hard on James. Wasn’t she harsh with Russell when he spoke about things he shouldn’t? Fear made urgency sound angry.

She let out a long breath, both releasing the spike of tension and showing him she was calming down.

“There’s a reason I didn’t become the Rogue, you know.”