‘And you?’ I ask, unable to keep the question in any longer. ‘What do you want the gifting for?’

At some point, we stopped fighting. I’m not exactly sure when, but we’re both on our feet, weapons by our side.

It’s a personal question to ask, and not one person has directly told me their answer. I don’t expect Kestria to be any different, yet as she lets out a long sigh, I feel like she actually wants to tell me.

‘I don’t know,’ she admits. ‘And that’s not me being coy or mysterious or anything. I really don’t. I thought that if I got in, then Etta would have a reason for choosing me, and then at some point the reason I needed the gifting would become known. That probably sounds crazy to you, doesn’t it? Risking my life without even having a reason.’

‘A little,’ I concede. ‘But not the bit about the answer coming to you. That feels just like Aitara deciding she needed to bring her six children forth, right? One minute she was on her own, and the next the world had seven Gods. Maybe living your way, acting on the signs you’re given, is a better way of doing things.’

Did Etta give me a sign, I wonder? Did I choose the right path? Kay has been here for weeks now, living in the High Hold with Artur and his wards, and I have no idea how she’s doing. I can only imagine how Lora and the other nobles are treating her. It makes me physically nauseous.

‘You wanna stop?’ Kestria’s voice brings me back to the moment. ‘Still got a couple of hours until dinner.’

‘No, I’m good. Let’s keep going. I need to work on those high shots.’

‘Then I’m your person for that.’

Training with Kestria isn’t a touch on training with Zelle and Kyor, but it helps my muscle mass and my stamina, and it sure as hell beats training with Holden. We keep going until darkness falls, only stopping when the smells of food and the sounds of clattering plates rise from downstairs. Kestria, worrying about how long she’s been without checking on Seiren, heads out, and we agree to meet at dinner.

I go to clean up, but rather than using the bathroom I share with the others, I grab my things from the dorm and check my infusion. I’m pleased to see it is the right hue of purple. It needs another week or so before the final addition will change it to a colourless liquid, and then it will be as potent as I want. I shower and luxuriate in the hot water. I will never get used to it and will never take it for granted the way I once did.

As I dry myself off, I study my bruised body. Kestria got a few good shots in, and to save the healers trouble, I use some of the salves I got after the FOF fight. I should really be making my own, just like I should be making and taking the tonic my mother insisted we drink daily, but at the end of each day I barely have enough energy for a conversation, let alone to start brewing. Besides, with that level of exhaustion, I’d almost certainly mess something up, and it’s not as if I need the tonic’s benefits now that I’m eating better than I’ve done in nearly a decade.

By the time I’m dry and dressed, the only person at our normal table is Jonas, and most of the food’s been cleared away.

‘Hey, I was about to come and look for you,’ he says, pushing a plate over to me. ‘Didn’t know what you’d want, so I saved you a bit of everything.’

‘Thank you so much!’ I grab the cutlery and gratefully tuck in. ‘I didn’t realise I’d been so long. Hot water. I still can’t get over how much I’ve missed it.’

A hint of a smile ghosts across his lips and for a second I assume he’s about to say something, but he merely shakes his head and remains silent.

‘You okay?’ I ask in between bites.

‘Yeah. I was just thinking about you and Kay. You know I spoke to her at the ball.’

Her name causes me to tense. ‘Yes, you told me. You said she was well.’

He nods. ‘Actually, she was better than well. She looked … she looked like she really fitted in here. Like a real noble.’

Irritation rises and a prickle runs down my spine. ‘She is a real noble, Jonas. She was born here, remember?’

‘No, yes, sorry, I didn’t mean it as …’ He shakes his head and looks upwards as if asking the Gods for their help. Maybe he should ask Etta for the gift of thinking before he speaks. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve thought he’d benefit from it.

‘Whatever happens, I don’t want you and Kay to have to go back to the slums.’

‘You and me both.’

‘The next time I see my father, I’m going to ask him about it. See if there’s a way. I don’t know how it would work as the king has to approve all wards. And I’m not sure he really appreciated who Kay was when she arrived here, but he sure as hell knows who you are. Still, there’ll be another way. I’m sure of it. A way we can make sure you never have to go back.’

A warmth spreads out from my chest. This damn boy. One minute he has me wanting to throttle him; the next second, I could kiss him.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, feeling a sudden rise in my pulse.

Jonas smiles. ‘You know, we’ve still not had the conversation I wanted to have with you.’

‘We haven’t?’

I can’t even remember what that conversation was supposed to be about.

‘Maybe later, if you’ve got time.’

‘You don’t want to have it here?’

He glances around the room to the other figures still sitting at the tables, though they’re few and far between. ‘No, it can wait.’

His lips twitch and I wonder if he’s about to say more when he’s interrupted by the sound of my stomach growling.

‘Maybe I should let you eat,’ he says, grinning. ‘I was going to go do some training with Yeva anyway.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ I nod across to the far end of the hall. ‘Grenda’s still here. She won’t let Zara try anything.’

‘Okay. See you later?’

‘Possibly.’ I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep, and I don’t think I’m in the mood for a deep heart-to-heart tonight.

I watch as Jonas walks towards the door and out into the battle yard. He really does have a good body, and the memory of him shirtless lingers in my mind for a full ten seconds, until it’s interrupted by something – or rather someone – else.

Kyor has come up from the stairs by the kitchen, and all he’s dressed in is a pair of fighting leathers. No shirt. No shoes. But for once it’s not his shoulders, or arms, or any other part of his body that holds my attention. It’s the way he’s walking. Head down, warily glancing around him. He has sneaking about written all over his forehead, like I used to when I constantly got targeted by pickpockets in the market.

Kyor Knavin doesn’t want anyone to see where he’s going.

Which is why I leave my plate exactly where it is and follow him.

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Chapter 34

Ifollow Kyor as he sneaks through the eastern arc. With every step I try to ignore the drumming in my chest telling me this is a bad idea.

There are two places he could be going. Either he’s going to leave the High Hold – which is forbidden for Rettlings, but I’m sure an exception would be made for him – or he’s heading to the guards’ temple. But if he’s going to the latter, I don’t see why he’d be acting like a thief in the night.

Grateful for the clouds that cover the moon and the practice I’ve had at going unseen, honed through many nights spent skulking through the slums, I trail him from a distance, watching as he passes the gate that leads out of the eastern arc and keeps walking towards the temple.

Maybe he feels embarrassed about needing to pray? I chew my lip and keep following.

Other than the shadow of darkness, there’s not a lot to keep me hidden, no trees or buildings to duck behind, so I wait, keeping as much distance between us as I can. At one point, he slows his pace and I hastily turn around, but when I glance back I see him striding once more towards the temple and slipping through the doors. I quicken my pace to follow.