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“You people and your concerns about nudity is tiresome,” Reaver replied.

“I have absolutely no problem with nudity,” Sage announced. “Just thought I’d share.”

Reaver grinned.

And my heart gave another shaky skip because I hadn’t been wrong when I’d thought the upward curve of his lips took all those interesting features and made them into something stunning.

I gave my head a shake. “Is everything okay?”

“It is.” Reaver faced me. “I wanted to let you know that Aurelia and Nithe returned to Thad,” he said, referencing the remaining draken who had stayed back at the encampment. “They will return to Redrock tonight when it’s less likely they’ll be seen by mortals.”

“Good thinking.” I hadn’t thought of that. “Will you…?” I rose, and a whoosh went through me. The floor stumbled. Or I did. “Whoa.”

Naill was immediately by my side, his hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little dizzy.” I blinked the bright, flashing lights from my eyes in time to see that Sage had also stood. “You should still be sitting. I’m fine.”

She watched me, making no move to sit.

“It’s been a long day,” I reminded her. I was tired. We all were.

“Have you eaten?” Reaver asked, drawing my attention to him.

I frowned. “I haven’t had a chance since morning. Been kind of busy.”

“You should make time for that,” he advised. “Now.”

Considering how the world had gone topsy-turvy, I couldn’t really argue, so I ended up in the kitchens with a draken dressed in only a sheet hanging on for dear life, sharing a plate of sliced ham that must’ve been left over from the day before.

Come to find out, draken did eat actual food. Thank the gods.

With Naill feeling confident that between Reaver and I, we were more than capable of handling ourselves, he’d gone off to check in with Hisa. It was quiet. Probably because I was stuffing my face.

And where was Kieran to not witness this and comment on how much I was eating?

I hadn’t felt this hungry since the first time I’d been to Castle Redrock.

But thinking of everything that still needed to be done tamped down my appetite. I needed to talk to the people. The families of the poor children. The imprisoned soldiers. The list went on. It was…a lot.

A lot of responsibilities that I had no experience with.

I looked around the kitchens, trying to imagine what the space looked like with cooks at the counter, steam rolling off the stoves, and people rushing to and fro. And then that made me wonder if the servants had any clue about the Ascended. Had they been completely blindsided? Or had some helped ferry in mortals, preparing them instead of roasted ham?

Gods, that was a dark thought.

“Does it not make you feel odd to be eating in here—eating their food? Like we took their city and now we’re taking their food?”

Sitting beside me on the counter, Reaver cocked his head. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Oh.” I stared at a chunk of ham. Perhaps that wasn’t an entirely normal concern to have. It probably wasn’t. But I knew why I was thinking about that instead of where my mind wanted to go. I stopped fighting. “I can’t stop thinking about the girls under here and those children. I can’t unsee either thing. I can’t understand how those who served in the Temple were at peace—how anyone, mortal or Ascended or whatever, can do those kinds of things.”

“Maybe we’re not supposed to,” Reaver said, and I glanced at him. “Maybe that’s what truly separates us from them.”

“Maybe,” I murmured. “Framont—the Priest—spoke of a True King of the Realms, as if the children had been killed in service to him.”

“The True King of the Realms is Nyktos, and he would not approve of such a thing.”

“Didn’t think so.” I finished off the piece of ham and reached for a linen. “I don’t think he was talking about Nyktos, though. But maybe…Malec?”

Reaver’s brows shot up. “That would be unfortunate if he believed that.”

I grinned, but it quickly faded. Several moments of quiet passed between us, and in that time, I saw Arden and Effie. The soldiers and mortals whose names I didn’t know. “People died today,” I whispered.

“People always die.” He reached over and picked up an apple from the bushel. “Especially in war.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“It just makes it what it is.”

“Yeah.” I wiped my hands. “Arden died today.”

He lowered the apple. “I know.”

“I tried to bring him back to life.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work on anyone of two worlds.”

“I had to—”

“You had to try anyway,” he finished for me, and I nodded. He took a bite. “She doesn’t like limitations either.”

“Who?”

“The Consort.” Turning the apple, he went to work on the other side.

“I have no problem with limitations.”

Reaver slid me a long look. “I haven’t known you for long, but I know you don’t like limitations. If you did, you wouldn’t have gone on and tried to restore life to another wolven, even after knowing you couldn’t.”