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I can’t tell if things with Kaelis are better now, or worse.

There’s an unbearable, almost pulsating energy between us that’s more palpable than ever.

When I go to him to work, there are moments I want to kiss him—moments that I can tell he also wants to kiss me.

Yet, somehow, neither of us crosses that line again.

Maybe we’re too unsure if it was really a onetime thing… or if it should be.

It probably should be. Yet I can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t stop from wondering if the memories and phantom hands consume his waking and sleeping hours, too…If he’s imagining my mouth on him, his on me. Does the sound our hips make as he pounds into me fill his dreams, too?

I hate that I want it—want him exactly as he said I would.

So, for now, I give off a frigid aura toward him, and Kaelis does the same.

We’re two combatants circling each other in the ring, separated after initial blows were thrown.

Waiting to see who will make the next move.

Who will break and close the gap for another round.

It’s a tension that has me shifting uncomfortably around him and racing back to my room some nights, grateful that I have my own space.

That I can lock the door and lean into the pillows as my hand slips between my thighs and my back arches off the bed.

Sometimes I let myself very softly moan aloud, imagining him on the other side of the door, listening, stroking himself to my pleasure.

The release is the only thing that enables me to keep my distance and focus during the day.

We’re making progress on the forgeries. My lines are more confident by the hour. But as the days slip by, I wonder if it’s enough progress. I’ve begun to check them against not only Kaelis’s memory, but Twino’s as well. We’re going to have only one shot at this, and that’s begun to weigh on me.

Silas remains a reliable go-between. Even though I know the bridge route now, Silas’s card is faster. Though, of course, the first time I take him back to the townhome, there’s resistance as I reintroduce him and tell them the truth of Silas’s identity.

“I still don’t trust him,” Gregor announces vehemently, not caring in the slightest that Silas is standing right next to me by the hearth. “Never gonna. It’s because of him we lost the club.”

“That’s…understandable.” Silas rubs the back of his neck.

I touch his forearm gently and look to the rest of them.

“We lost the club because of Ravin, not Silas. And, frankly, if Ravin wanted to get to me, or destroy the club—which he obviously did—he was going to do that with or without Silas’s help.

Silas is as much a victim of the crown’s cruelty as any of us or any of those we fight for. ”

Gregor folds his arms and sinks back into his chair. Twino shifts his grip on his cane, eyes alight but silent. He’s said precious little, and, for once, I can’t read if that’s a good or a bad thing.

“How do we know that he’s not playing both sides?” It’s never a good sign when even Jura doesn’t mince words. “He could be trying to earn our trust to let Ravin in.”

“If he was going to lead Ravin here, he would’ve by now. I overheard them talking; the prince was pressing for information on us, but Silas didn’t budge. He risked lying to protect us.”

“Maybe it was a show for you.” Gregor huffs.

“They didn’t know I was there. I swear it.” Of that much, I’m confident.

Jura purses her lips and takes a long sip of her tea, crossing her legs and leaning back into the sofa in a position similar to how Bristara is sitting.

The founder and matron of the club has been alarmingly silent.

But that doesn’t stop me from feeling her disapproval.

Yet again. It seems that’s all I can manage since getting out of Halazar.

“He could be the one who killed Arina,” Gregor adds with a low growl.

“I would never,” Silas says hastily.

“We’re going to need proof of your loyalty, I think,” Bristara muses, finally speaking. “If we’re ever going to be able to trust you enough to work with you, that is.”

“I would’ve said the same, had he not already come with it in hand.” I hold up the schematics he acquired for us.

“What is that?” Twino asks.

“They’re sketches—copies of the workings of the box the king keeps strapped to his chest that he keeps the cards inside of.” I pass the paper to Twino, who unfolds it. His eyes widen slightly. Brow furrows.

“What is it?” Ren leans over to ask.

“Nothing like I’ve seen before,” Twino murmurs. “But it does look like the box I saw on the king.”

“Could you use it to open the box?” I ask.

“If it’s real, yes.”

Bristara taps her fingers on the arms of her chair—a sign she’s agitated.

She speaks directly to Silas. “Whenever you’re here, you will stay in the garden—where we can keep an eye on you—and go nowhere else,” she declares.

“Until we can determine the validity of this information, this is how it shall be.”

Silas nods. I don’t dare speak against the decree. For the rest of the night, Silas stays alone in the garden, sitting and sketching on the pages he brought with him in his satchel. He’s not inking cards, but what has him so focused escapes me.

I take it as a good sign when Jura brings him a mug of tea and a small plate of scones after a few hours. Even if she doesn’t speak to him while doing so.

The next time we go to the townhome is much the same.

Silas never objects. He never protests or tries to argue his way out of being forced to sit in the garden. Even on the coldest of nights, when his breath curls in the air as puffs of white that match the snow that drifts from the sky above. He’s heartbreakingly familiar with solitude.

All the while, the club and I work and plan. Getting the cards from the king isn’t something I’m going to be able to do alone. I’ve told Kaelis as much as well. After how they all helped with All Coins Day, the prince has the good sense not to object.

That’s how an unlikely plan is devised…and how Silas is finally given another chance to prove himself.

“Your bag stinks,” Silas says the moment the door to his apartments swings open.

“Is that any way to greet a lady?” I step inside.

He closes the entry and steps behind me. “What is it?”

I adjust my grip on the satchel, debating whether I should tell him.

It was hard enough to come to the conclusion of doing this at all.

And, even if my star-crossed family knows what I’m bringing…

being presented with the thing that killed Arina is going to evoke a lot of feelings.

Unsure what drives me to the conclusion that it’s for the best to share, I open the flap.

“Duskrose,” I say. Silas takes two whole steps back. “Don’t worry, I trimmed it before it bloomed. The pollen is safely contained.”

“You could trim it while staying quiet enough that it didn’t open?” He’s understandably impressed.

“I had someone who knows a lot about plants that told me how.”

That person is Ren. Who is probably the only one of the club who looks more fascinated than horrified when the flower is later plopped onto the kitchen counter after Silas takes us back to the townhome.

Jura is utterly aghast at its presence in her kitchen.

Twino leans against the wall, surveying.

Gregor didn’t come downstairs. I’d suspected it might be too much for him to face.

Ren takes the lead, carefully slicing into the plant with the precision and steady hand to rival a surgeon. He walks Jura through how to make a tincture from the pollen. I remain out of the way, next to Twino, both of us watching with fascination and holding our breath at parts.

When all is settled, we finally emerge. All except Jura. She’s probably going to be scrubbing her counters and muttering to herself for the next few hours.

Silas’s attention drifts to me as Twino and I emerge into the garden, still quietly finalizing the last of our plans.

“I’ve come to a conclusion.” Silas stands and adjusts his coat. The weather has been oscillating wildly recently as winter refuses with every last gasp to give way to spring.

“And what is that?” I ask for both myself and Twino.

“You’re going to poison the king.” Silas’s bluntness betrays his confidence.

“And how have you arrived at such a conclusion?” Twino asks, as cool and collected as if the topic were mundane…and Silas wasn’t right.

“I’ve been thinking about how all this fits together.

” Silas’s eyes drift to me and stay there.

I’m reminded of his expression when he first explained his theories at the winter solstice gala in the castle.

“Ithought, at first, you were only trying to steal the cards. But I think it’s more than that.

With how close Kaelis has kept you and from what I’ve learned of your other innate abilities as Fortune to ink cards…

you’re going to make forgeries so the king won’t suspect anything, buyingyou—and Kaelis—more time to get the final Major, the Star.

“Why else would you go deep into the academy after clearly having Kaelis and me on your side? You must’ve been looking for something to help you with the forgeries.

That’s how you found Arina’s body.” He doesn’t mention the workshop of the Fool outright, and for that I’m grateful.

He’d said he didn’t know of it when I mentioned it during the gala.

But he’s clearly sharp enough to have drawn conclusions about what it might be.

“You more or less had these theories before; it’s why you gave us the puzzle box schematics.”