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B RIONY WAS UNCHAINED FROM THE WALL and given to Reighven and Gains. She rubbed her sore wrists, finally free from the shackles. The collar stayed on. With a hand on each of her elbows, they led her up the stairs, past the blood-spattered windows, and to the floor with the baths.

They shoved her inside, and Reighven said, “You have two minutes.”

The taps sprang to life, and scalding-hot water splashed down to the tub.

She glanced at the two of them, then to the door.

“Go on,” Reighven said with a leer.

She swallowed, her jaw tight with the muzzling spell. They wouldn’t give her privacy to disrobe.

Briony stared at the bath as it filled. The tub hadn’t been cleaned in years, it seemed. Grime coated the sides, and there were numerous rings from the waterline.

She hiked up her dress and stepped into the hot water.

It scalded her, turning her skin bright red.

Lowering herself into the water, she let her dress cover her on the way down.

She glanced at the two men and found Gains looking away, almost bored, but Reighven’s eyes were glued to her chest as the water soaked her dress.

He approached her slowly, and Briony squeezed the sides of the tub. He produced a bar of soap and dropped it into the water with a splash.

“Make sure to scrub up everywhere ,” he said with a wink. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

Briony cast her eyes down to the bath. Her skin was burning, and the water was already tinted with dirt and blood.

She dipped her hair back and ran the soap over her scalp and her skin as best she could.

Reighven stood at the edge of the tub and lifted a furry black brow.

She grabbed the soap and pushed it between her legs, ignoring the clicking of his teeth.

His arm reached, and her body froze in horror, afraid he would touch her. He grabbed at the wet dress at her shoulder, then pulled back with silver gleaming between his fingers.

Her mother’s brooch. The last piece of her.

Reighven smiled as he pocketed it. Briony’s heart cracked in two.

Gains tossed her a towel when it was time to get out, but they didn’t dry her dress. Water dripped from her hem as they walked her down the hall to a different room.

When Gains knocked, a thickset older woman with deep umber skin opened the door. She was in a Bomardi medical uniform. When her eyes landed on Briony, they seemed to stay a bit too long.

“One last one for the exams,” Gains said.

Briony shivered under her wet dress and wet hair as they shoved her forward. Another young female medic was in the corner. She had pale skin and bright-red hair and looked barely older than Briony. She blanched when she saw Briony. The older woman pointed for Briony to sit on a table.

Gains turned to Reighven. “Go check on the Meers kid.”

Briony’s head snapped to them. Sammy was nearby.

Reighven looked put out, but he obeyed, closing the door behind him.

They had her lie back and ran spells over her body, hovering their hands and waiting for light and heat to spark. One of them dried her hair and dress, muttering about hypothermia.

The younger medic placed both hands over Briony’s stomach, pale fingers spreading wide. She looked up at Gains. “Not pregnant.”

Briony swallowed, realizing she never would be.

The heavyset medic placed a plant bundle with branching white flowers over her belly, humming an old melody.

Briony knew this one. She always knew she’d have it performed one day before a wedding.

The woman’s hands flew in circles, and the bundle caught fire against her dress before burning out just as quickly. The warmth and light stayed, but it lit up deep under her skin.

She stared at the ceiling with her jaw glued shut and voice stolen while the medic said to Gains, “Virgin.”

Gains chuckled. “Five thousand more to me.”

Briony’s eyes squeezed shut. Was one night really worth five thousand gold?

Was one moment? She supposed there were old rituals that could be performed with virgin’s blood.

Reighven would certainly know the black market of trade, but the way he talked to her—looked at her.

She didn’t think he wanted her just for the blood.

The medics were wrapping up when Gains said, “We’re to sterilize her.”

A tear slipped out of Briony’s left eye.

It was quiet in the room for too long. She opened her eyes and turned her gaze on the younger medic who was staring at the older one.

“Is there a problem?” Gains asked.

“She’s …” The redhead looked at the floor. “Isn’t she the last of that line?”

“Evermore is gone,” Gains said coldly as he stood from the wall he’d been leaning on. “Mistress Mallow has requested that all women and men who have ties to the Rosewood line be sterilized. You wouldn’t be opposing Mistress Mallow’s decision, would you?”

The redhead looked helplessly at the older medic, who didn’t show any emotion.

Clearing her throat, the redhead lifted her chin up. “I won’t do it.”

Briony puffed out air, watching this woman in Bomardi-blue medical robes opposing Mallow. Maybe there was hope.

But Gains’s hand shot out, his fingers curling into a fist as the woman grabbed for her heart, eyes wide. She sputtered and dropped to her knees.

“I’ll do it,” the older medic said, almost lazily. “Don’t kill her. I need her.”

Gains’s fingers eased their grasp on the magic crushing the young woman’s heart. She gasped, curling into a ball on the floor.

The older medic moved to Briony’s side and brought her thumbs and index fingers over her pelvis in a triangle, closing her eyes.

Briony prepared herself, listening to the redhead’s gasping.

There was a pinch and a burn on the left side of her belly, and Briony jerked.

Her left fallopian tube had been cauterized.

As the medic moved around the table to her other side, Briony was glad that Gains’s grinning face was out of her view. “How many others are you sterilizing?” the medic asked Gains conversationally.

Tears slipped out of Briony’s eyes as the woman placed the triangle of her hands over her belly again, over her right side. She prepared herself for the sensation again.

“There’s only one more here,” Gains said.

“Well, we can’t wait around all day,” the older medic said.

And with her back to Gains, the woman pinched Briony’s stomach with her nails as sharply as possible.

Briony jerked, kicking her legs. She gazed up at the medic in question, but she was already turning to Gains.

“It’s done. Both fallopian tubes have been burned shut. She won’t fall pregnant.”

Briony tried to relax her face. The woman hadn’t cauterized her right side.

And they both knew it.

Gains stepped forward. “Let’s go,” he said to Briony. “And you.” He turned to the redhead who was still getting her breath back. “Do a good turn here, and I won’t request your beheading when your services are no longer needed.”

The redhead nodded, crying.

Briony got up off the table. The older medic had turned to her paperwork. As if nothing had happened.

Briony followed Gains out the door, her heart pounding. He put the chains back on her wrists, but her thoughts were focused elsewhere.

There were Bomardi out there who would help Evermore. She just needed to find them.

Her mind was spinning as Gains took her down two staircases, back to the cell with the women.

He didn’t say a word to her as he opened the doors, and that was all right. She was too busy building hope in her chest like a palace of worship.

When she stepped into the cell, the women jumped up, running to her. Gains locked them in again, as questions were flung at her from every direction. Briony couldn’t focus on any of them.

Cordelia stepped in front of her. “Briony?”

She tapped her fingers against her throat and shook her head. And then tapped her jaw and mimed a mouth closing with her hand.

But there was a fire burning inside her.

She caught Velicity’s eye across the room.

She was chained to the wall with her arms above her head, much the way Briony had been, only there was dried blood all over her face.

Katrina was next to her on the wall. One of the women was helping her drink water.

Briony cast her eyes around the room.

The women were looking to her, but she had no voice to tell them that they had support. That there were people out there who would still stand up for them—either loudly like the redhead or silently like the older medic.

Her gaze caught on the basket of food, and she remembered Phoebe placing fruit across the dirty floor.

Briony dropped to her knees, reaching for a bundle of grapes and making quick work of the vine.

“Briony?” someone asked, but she wasn’t paying attention. She had to tell them.

She started spelling out what she couldn’t say, the grapes laid quickly into letters. She reached for another vine of grapes while the women caught on and gathered behind Briony.

The first word formed, and she thought of that redhead almost dying for her. For her . An Eversun.

Someone started pulling the grapes for her and making a pile with them. Briony built the second word, working quickly to say so little.

But it would hopefully tell them what they needed to know about the older medic who defied Mallow right under Gains’s nose.

Finally, there was one grape left, and she added it to the end. A period. A statement.

She stood and stepped back as the women gazed down at her handiwork.

Not alone.