Page 47

“Why practice in those gardens at all? Why not here?”

I lean towards him, smirking. “These pavilions are far too pretty.”

“But the queen’s plum tree can be forfeited?”

My levity wanes. I slide on a remorseful, yet hopeful smile. “Thank you for not telling anyone about this?”

Quin shakes his head sharply, and for a heartbeat, I think hewilltell, but then his lips curl into a huffed grimace. “You’re much too troublesome to die that easily.”

“The right amount of trouble for your... troubles?”

A single barked laugh escapes before he presses his lips into a firm line. “Could you possibly trouble me more?”

A flicker of something rises in my chest, like he’s goading me—like I want to rise to it. I swallow the heat down and step back.

Quin lifts his boot and slides his silk-socked foot inside. “Where did you learn to deliver relief like that?”

“It’s a commoner’s trick.”

“Oh?”

“Time to recover from ailments is not often possible. We’ll try anything to numb pain.”

“Never thought that’d lead to better medicating than the upper classes have access to.”

My jaw tightens. “For all I’m thankful for your help just now, please show some compassion.”

His eyes flash. “You—”

“Commoners might have ways to overcome pain, but they have those ways because they aren’t entitled time to heal the source of their troubles. Their life-expectancy is twenty years less than the nobility.”

Quin’s lips flatten into a tight line. “Going to call out your useless king again?”

I step back and incline my head. “I don’t need to.”

Quin flings the book he’d been reading against a beam, the sharp sound making me jump. “Do you think a kingdom can survive on canals and farmland alone?”

“It can’t survive on injustice,” I counter, stepping closer. “But you and your gold-threaded underpants wouldn’t understand, would you?”

The lines of Quin’s face grow harder, colder. “Do you think you’re the only one suffering under this kingdom’s flaws?”

His words cut deep, a flicker of something—frustration, guilt, something far heavier—breaking through his polished exterior before he sucks it back in again.

I tear my gaze from his. “I’ll leave first.”

“Get back here.”

I walk away calmly. We might keep meeting, but I don’t need Quin in my life. I have Akilah, and fate has blessed me with Silvius too.Theseare people whose presence adds something to my life. Quin... only has a knack for getting under my skin.

I wave without looking back. “Thank you for your help,” I say, the distance growing between us. “I won’t bother you again.”

River—once a starveling vespertine—is now healthy and fit, a trusted messenger between Silvius and me. But today, his usual enthusiasm is supplanted by quiet sorrow.

“What’s wrong?”

He passes me a sealed letter. As I rip it open and read, a heavy weight settles in my chest. Akilah leans in, her chin resting on my shoulder as she peers at the paper.

“His mother has passed away,” I murmur. “He has buried her in her hometown.”