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“So. The king may not be as terrible as you believe.”

“Maybe he knows who I am. Maybe he’s being generous, for Nicostratus’s sake.”

Quin stares blank faced at the only-very-slightly denuded pearl heart plant.

I grin, using Quin’s cane to pull myself up. “Where does the royal city store seeds?”

“I heard no such provision in your sentence.”

“That’s a chicken egg predicament.” I settle my hands on my hips and contemplate the garden bed. “Never mind, I have an idea.” I wink at Quin. “Just you wait and see.”

* * *

I stare at the gold-sashed liaison, perplexed.

The aklo, the same one as this morning, smiles mockingly and rereads the king’s message before he saunters off again. Indeed, the king is fastidious. And thorough. My cuttings of his pearl heart must take and grow to twice the size before he’ll be satisfied.

I shove my shirtsleeves up my arms, muttering.

“What was that?”

I jump at Quin’s voice. “Finished your meetings for the day?”

“Only to have more tomorrow.”

“I’d swap places with you. I’ve been rushing between akla check-ups and propagating this plant all day. Thank the heavens for these gloves or the thorns would’ve torn my hands to shreds—” I stop abruptly, flushing. Quin stirs, his cane shifting, but I don’t look at him. “My feet though, I tell you. I feel for the aklas.”

“Why not use the pearl heart for yourself?”

“Oh, Quin. I’m impudent, notactuallyfearless.”

He laughs softly. “If you don’t dare take new leaves, use the ones from yesterday.”

“How many aklas do you think are on this island? There was barely enough for them.” I wave a hand. “Never mind.”

Movement at the window above me catches my eye, and I look up in time to see an elegant robe glide past in the shadows of the king’s bedchamber. I tense, steadying myself against Quin’s shoulder as a sudden swoop hits my stomach.

A long breath tickles the skin at the top of my glove. “What are you doing?” Quin drawls.

“The king is spying on me.”

“Undoubtedly. You think he’s judging his brother’s questionable taste?”

I flick a finger at him and he bats me away.

“He’s not judging his brother,” Quin says confidently. “He’s playing with you.”

“Playing with me? Why?”

“He wants to. He can.”

“How... unexpected.” I’ve hated him for the injustices I’ve seen on the streets, but...

“Why?” Quin murmurs.

“It’s nothing.” I flash him a weak smirk. “I have a spell for hair growth that should work on plants. Let’s see how long his play lasts.”

* * *