“I know my sister. She’s very good at it. And, well, just look at him.”

I feel my cheeks heat as soon as the words are out. I just admitted I find him handsome. Stupid.

But Petrik doesn’t seem to care about my slip. “It wouldn’t work. They’re too similar. And they don’t like each other like that.”

“How do you know?” I ask.

“You can tell by the way they move around each other. They don’t touch except when necessary. They’re being playful with their words to dispel any awkwardness. It’s not at all like the way the mercenary is with you.”

I nearly lose my balance in my crouch. “What?”

“You don’t really look at anyone except your sister. Even now when I’m talking to you, you’re looking at the ground. It’s okay. I know it’s just how you are, but you don’t notice the mercenary as a result. The way he is with you.”

I force myself to meet Petrik’s eyes. “How do you mean?”

“Just pay attention. You’ll see.”

The weather grows warmer and wetter the farther we go. The trees gradually change from those with needles to those with leaves. The canopy becomes thicker, blocking out more light and the rain, which makes for easier travel. Fewer plants grow aside from the trees because very little light gets down to the ground. Only the road remains open to the alternating sun and clouds.

We risk traveling on it again at Kellyn’s behest. We’re close to our destination, everyone eager to reach it as quickly as possible. We cross paths with a few other travelers. Kellyn and Petrik are friendly, making impressions, while Temra and I are silent, drawing up our hoods.

Petrik’s words have been like a hammer in my mind, beating against my skull, making it impossible for me to think about anything else.

Pay more attention to the mercenary, as if he would—

I happen to glance over at Kellyn, and when I do, my eyes instantly meet his. I look away hastily, before I can see any sort of expression cross his face.

He was watching me. Staring at me?

Yes, because I’m the bladesmith. I possess magic. I’m strange, and it’s natural for him to be curious about me.

But a few minutes later, when I catch him doing it again, I say, “Stop that.”

Temra is up ahead with Petrik, both of them leading Reya along.

“Stop what?” the mercenary asks.

“You’re looking at me.”

“You’re looking at me,” he counters.

“Only because you’re looking at me!”

“If you say so.”

“It’s the truth.”

My whole body feels overheated, as if I’m back in the forge. The secrets the sword shared with me are a burden I didn’t realize I wouldn’t want. I don’t like knowing this man thinks I’m beautiful. But there’s no way to take it back. One can’t unknow a secret.

“It’s the sun,” he says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“All the sunshine. It’s making even more freckles burst across your arms and face.”