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“Control?” His quivering chin tugged at me, because I understood what it felt like to look different, to be different, and needing to control that. I understood wanting the upper hand in my own life.

Also, his affliction made me think of Mother’s.

Stern, stern, stern. I plunked my hands on my hips. “You can’t stay here.”

“But—”

“Look, thanks for helping me in the castle, but I’m sorry. I’ve got my own problems. Your family is probably worried sick, and my house is too close for comfort compared with yours. You need to go home. Just tell them you got lost.”

“Fibs are mean creatures. Don’t you know that?”

“They don’t bite. But I will if you don’t scram.”

“What about friendship?” he demanded. “You said—”

“I know what I said, but the First Knight and his armed entourage are searching for you, and I don’t need them banging on my door.”

I must have uttered the wrong thing, taken a very wrong turn, because his large eyes sparkled. “I’ll tell them it was you.”

“What?” I spat.

“I’ll tell them what you stole.”

My joints locked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Not a lie. I didn’t know the specifics of what he knew. Or how he could know anything.

I bobbed my prim finger at him. “Andyoudon’t know anything about me.”

He mimed the action, pointing at a region below my neck. “Your bosom.”

“Excuuuuse me?”

“In the castle, in the hall, in the shadows of puppets.” He nudged his chin toward my chest. “Your bosom blossomed.”

Following his gaze, I glimpse the neckline of my shirt, which I’d been wearing last night. It draped low over my ample chest, revealing half of my acorn heart.

And why? Because at Nicu’s accusation, I’d leaned forward without considering such a simple thing.

Just like I’d been leaning forward last night, when Nicu must have glimpsed the nut of my heart from a distance. Maybe a slant of moonlight had helped. Or maybe he had better eyesight than mine.

Or maybe who gave a shit? He’d seen down my shirt. Period.

He’d seen the acorn because I’d been on all fours, not thinking about my neckline. A damn simple thing indeed.

The closure that usually concealed my heart had fractured recently. Mother hadn’t gotten around to fixing it yet, and we’d run out of reserves even before that. I went through closures a few times each year.

“Your heart is an acorn,” Nicu summed up, canting his head. “There’s a secret acorn in the castle, too. I overheard Queen Grandma talking about it. I remember, she said a woodworker made something to protect it, and a girl delivered it to the vault. What’s the vault? Are you the girl?”

Deny it, my mind shouted. “Okay, wait—”

“Your acorn heart wanted a spare, right?”

“Wrong.”

Perceptive green slits stared back at me. “You have the chime of a liar.”

He meant, I had the voice of a liar. With his knack for impersonating people, he’d know voices pretty well.