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I approached Jinneth for the first time a week later. I had to be clandestine about it so I didn’t reveal my relation to the girl, since I had a target on my back with boys like Rirth and Culiar.

Jinneth didn’t seem to notice me whenever we entered the eating hall around the same time, after getting let off from our respective duties.

It made sense she wouldn’t recognize me—that she wasn’t putting on a front—because there were dozens of new faces for her to work through during eating hours. I also kept to myself in the far corners of the room where I wouldn’t be bothered.

While Jinneth remained oblivious to my existence in the Firehold, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She seemed skittish and downcast these days. It was no wonder why.

I wondered where she had gone between the time the Diplomats got rid of her—spying on Jeffrith and Dimmon’s discussion told me she had been sold at auction—and arriving at the Firehold. What horrors did you face, my poor friend, between then and now?

Another part of me feared speaking with her because of what I had done.

Jeffrith had gotten that wicked glint all young men seemed to get when lost in the throes of lust, when their want collided with their need.

He had surrounded me in the alley with his friends because he thought I would be an easy target to defile.

I had proven him wrong when I killed him.

And that was the part that scared me—eventually having to tell Jinneth the story of her brother’s death and my part in it. Does she even know he’s dead? Would she ever forgive me if she learned it was done by my hand?

I hadn’t tried to kill Jeffrith. I had simply chosen a perfect point to stab him once he scarred Baylen. The dagger did the rest.

Still, it was time. I was too curious about Jinneth’s situation not to speak with her and, honestly, I was lonely. I needed another girl to talk to. Weeks of utter silence on one hand, and constant training and lambasting from Lukain on the other, had turned me into a social pariah.

I hardly knew how to speak to anyone unless it was to threaten them or defend myself when Master Lukain quipped at me during our sparring sessions.

When I saw Jinneth enter the eating hall, my body tensed with anticipation. It felt like I was on a job with Baylen all over again, snatching purses from humans at the bazaar in the Temple district.

Save me True, those were simpler days.

I sat alone in my usual spot. My fingers fidgeted under the edge of the table where no one could see.

Jinneth’s eyes darted around when she entered with three other girls next to her. I noted her suspicious expression, like she was assessing danger before stepping into the room.

Smart girl.

Relationships budded and broke in the eating hall. The three meals we shared with other Grimsons—early morning, midday, early evening—were the only times people could converse and retaliate for past grievances.

All the drama and flair of young living took place here.

Lukain had trained us to be rabid animals, and that was exactly what happened.

More often than not, at least one fight broke out during eating hours.

Someone usually ended up in the infirmary, which I’d had the displeasure of visiting after Peltos had nearly broken my back.

If nothing else, the eating hall created a constant flow of wounded bodies for the girls training in the infirmary to work on.

Jinneth picked out her food from the wide silver platter on the first table, once the other dozen boys and girls near her had gotten their fill. The three young ladies she had entered the room with quickly skittered off to be with their friends, leaving Jinneth alone. Like me.

Her hand darted to grab specks of food. She retreated to a shadowy corner to sit on the cold ground, hoping not to be disturbed.

I rose from my seat, taking a deep breath.

Sauntering to the edges of the room next to the wall, I only narrowly avoided a brawl taking place when two boys wrestled each other off their seating benches.

Other boys circled them, cheering them on, which created a good distraction for me to make my move.

I heard a loud crack of a broken skull as one of the boys smacked the other with his wooden plate. I strode toward Jinneth and stood a few feet from her, making myself tall.

She had her head bowed, eating. My shadow cast over her, and slowly she lifted her eyes. They were brimming with caution . . . and then they bulged when she recognized me. “Sephy?!” she hissed.

Jinneth’s voice was raspy and downtrodden, filled with the same funny twang as before. She had always been a spunky one.

“Well met, Jin,” I said, shuffling closer to her. “Can I sit?”

She nodded incessantly, putting her plate down.

“No,” I said, hand falling on her wrist. “Keep the plate up. Keep eating.”

She flinched when I touched her, which broke my heart. I wanted us to look like strangers conversing for the first time, so no one made the connection I knew her from a past life.

“What . . . what in all that’s holy are y’doing here?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same, Jin.”

We gave each other sheepish smiles.

It was the first smile I had put on my face in months.

“Truehearts bend me over, it’s good to see a familiar face, yeah?” she said.

“Yeah,” I agreed, keeping my smile quaint. “It is.”

“Y’look strong.” She couldn’t stop herself from reaching over and testing my bicep with a small squeeze. “Bulky bitch ye turned into, yeah?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I chuckled. “Funny what a few good rounds of food will do for you.” My eyes hovered over her slight body, my gaze insinuating she needed to eat more.

She caught the look, rolling her eyes. “These crazies scare the shit out of me. Always been a light eater anyway. I don’t need much, yeah?”

Our eyes scanned the ongoing clamor playing out in the middle of the room. Now there were four boys fighting. Dust kicked up. I knew it was only a matter of time before Antones or Lukain busted in here to crack some heads.

“You still need to eat, Jin,” I chastised. “If there’s anything good about this place, it’s the food.”

She took a bite of her meat, making a big show of it by chewing with her mouth open. “Happy, yeah?”

I smiled again. “Yeah.”

“Why ain’t I seen you in the girly quarters?”

“I’ve been training with the boys. To fight.”

Her eyes widened. “With those mad bastards?” She swept a hand out at the brawl. One of the longtables had been shoved aside to let more guys get into the fight.

“You see how stupid they are, don’t you? Like animals.” Like your brother was before I put him down. The thought shocked me and I choked on my own spit.

Jinneth smacked me on the back with her palm, hard. “Y’good there, Sephy?”

I nodded, flashed a nod of thanks. “These boys will be easy to defeat once I get good enough. I’m trying to work my way out of here, Jinneth.”

She scoffed. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

“Master Lukain said—”

“I know what he said, yeah? I just don’t believe him. You’re the one talkin’ ‘bout boys and how stupid they are. Why y’think he’d give up his hard-earned property , yeah?”

She made a fair point. I couldn’t take Lukain at his word. Most of me didn’t. It was the glimmer of hope that presented itself—a false hope, undoubtedly—I held onto. The idea I could fight my way to liberty.

Maybe Lukain Pierken will be the one to prove he’s different than the others. “How about you?” I asked, needing a subject change.

Her face reddened with embarrassment, which was a surprising reaction. Jinneth was not a shy one—not when she was around people she knew. She was a quick talker with a barbed tongue, filled with more curses than a drunken Bronze.

Her small shoulders rose and fell. “Eh. Y’know. Could be better, yeah?”

Creases formed in my forehead. My voice came out serious and deep. “What happened, Jin?”

She hesitated, mouth opening and closing. Then she swiped her forearm over her nose and lips. I thought she was wiping off grease from her chicken, but I noticed she was sniffling. “It’s nothing, Sephy. Just the life I’m used to, replaying all over again.”

Anger filled me. My blood sang. “Tell me. Please.”

At the timbre of my voice, Jinneth looked over. She was stupefied at the reaction on my face. I had clearly changed since we’d first met each other on stakeout jobs.

“Well, it’s . . . don’t let it get out, yeah?” she began. When I nodded firmly, she went on. “There’s this girl, y’see. Name’s Aelin? She, uh. Well, she’s older, right. And Aelin, she makes me . . . do things for her.”

My face darkened as the rage inside me swelled. “What kind of things, Jinneth?” I spoke through gritted teeth. My hands were clamped fists in my lap.

Jinneth glanced up with dewy eyes. “Aelin says she likes the way my tongue feels between her thighs.”

I held back a gasp, trying not to betray the level of my fury. Jinneth couldn’t have seen more than fourteen summers. “That fucking bitch,” I eked out.

“Right, yeah. Don’t I know it?” Jin glanced away, back to the fight, which was finally starting to calm down thanks to Antones making an appearance and throwing boys aside by the shoulders.

We said nothing for a long moment, staring out from our corner.

Jinneth scowled. “I don’t like it, Sephy. This cunt Aelin. Don’t like it one bit.”

I could see an idea cooking in her gleaming blue eyes, even as she kept her gaze on the brawl.

“Y’said you been training with the boys, yeah?” she asked.

I nodded, staying silent.

Her wrist circled as she spoke. “With Master Lukain?”

“Yes. He’s taken an interest in me.”

“. . . An interest?”

“Not like that.”

“Not like Aelin.”

“No.”

Jinneth nodded. She tapped her chin. “Now, I don’t want to be a fighter like you, yeah? I ain’t no bulky fightin’ bitch.” She tried on a small smile. “But mayhaps we . . . mayhaps you could teach me to use that dagger ye be carrying there off your hip?”

When our eyes locked, a promise was molded between us. “I’d like nothing more, my friend.”