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Was it spite, Ava wondered, or just a marking of her territory? Except for yesterday, when Sirna had hauled her inside and taken off the rope she’d made, she hadn’t set foot inside the cart.

Evelyn had made sure of it.

Madame Croter had turned away to give Melodie a hand up, accepting Sirna’s silence as agreement, and Ava could see he realised objecting would seem strange.

He caught her eye and then lifted his knife in its sheath, pretending to adjust the belt it was tied to around his waist.

The message was clear.

She didn’t nod in understanding, though. She just stared vacantly at him for a long beat, until in the end he was the one who looked away.

She faced the front, grabbing hold of the bench as the cart lurched forward at Madame Croter’s snap of the reins, and then leaned to the side as the black hen fluttered its wings to keep its balance.

It amused her to give Sirna the blank looks and shuffling steps of someone who was no longer functioning normally.

There had been fear in his eyes just now, even though he was the one waving the knife.

He was worried she was so damaged, the Speaker would refuse to pay him.

He had waited late into the night, long after everyone else was asleep, to put the rope on her last night, and woke early to take it off. He’d wound a long scarf around her waist before he put it on, to dampen the effect he assumed it was having on her.

“Do you know how to braid hair, Avasu?” Madame Croter asked her, and Ava suddenly realised she’d missed some of the conversation.

She gave a nod.

“Melodie needs her hair brushed and braided. Will you do it?”

Ava nodded again, and Melodie stepped over Madame Croter and wriggled in between her and Ava, holding out a hair brush.

Ava got to work, gently untangling the slightly curly golden brown of Melodie’s hair until it fell in a shiny waves.

The cart rocked gently as they drove, and with the soft sunshine warming her head and shoulders, she felt better than she had in a while.

“Are you a prisoner?” Madame Croter asked softly as Ava smoothed a hand down Melodie’s hair.

She jerked her gaze up, fear shattering her peace. She said nothing.

Madame Croter held her gaze, the reins loose in her hands as she let her horse lead the way. “Whatever they’re doing to keep you so slow and tired, tell me. I’ll help you.”

Ava looked down, saw Melodie looking up at her.

The little girl looked ready to burst with the information she had on the subject.

She put a hand on Melodie’s shoulder and Melodie shuddered with the effort of suppressing what she knew.

Ava looked back up at the old woman’s kind, concerned eyes. “Patience,” she whispered. “I will need to run soon, and I need my strength to do that. Letting me sit here with you is already helping.”

“I knew it.” Madame Croter sucked in a breath.

“I knew it first.” Melodie couldn’t contain herself. “I helped her!”

“You’re a good-hearted child.” Madame Croter stroked her hair.

“Be careful.” Ava needed to impress this on her new friend. “Tell no one. He has made threats.”

Madame Croter looked at her over the top of Melodie’s head, and Ava ran a finger across her throat.

Madame Croter’s eyes widened.