I feel Sel’s gaze on the back of my neck, on my cheek, before I hear his voice.

“Mae hi’n brydferth.”

“What?” I ask. Nick turns when I do, just as confused. Arthur’s memories don’t recognize modern Welsh, and I only know a little. I do recognize the words for “she” and “beautiful” though.

Or maybe Nick isn’t just as confused as me, because a slow, laughing smile spreads across his face, like he understands Sel’s game already. He leans a hip against the wall to watch me beside his Kingsmage, eyes teasing. “Ydi, mae hi. Yn dragwyddol.”

Maybe that last word was “forever.” “Beautiful forever”? No, “always”? I flush, then pout.

“Because of Arthur, I’m only fluent in Old Welsh, not modern. You know this isn’t fair.”

“We know,” they respond together, and laugh. It’s hard to be mad, watching the rare humor shared between them. When was the last time I saw them joke with each other? When was the last time their smiles echoed each other’s? Something unclenches in my heart to witness it: the familiarity of long cohabitation, the bonds forged outside of Oaths and despite of them, the wavelength of understanding tuned to the frequency of Sel and Nick.

Sel sighs, pauses. Clears his throat. “Mae hi’n gweld dy eisiau di.” I don’t get a word of that, but the look on his face tells me that his mood has shifted slightly. Nick looks from Sel to me, and his long, solemn gaze on my face confirms it.

“Mae hi’n gweld dy eisiau di hefyd,” Nick replies softly.

Sel shakes his head. “Mae gen i ofn amdani, Nicholas….”

Did he say “scared”? “Her”? Is Sel is scared… for me?

Nick faces Sel, eyes earnest. “Dwi’n hyderus y medri di gadw hi’n ddiogel.”

I think I hear enough: Trust, you, keep her, safe.

Sel’s laugh is a hollow, empty bark. “You shouldn’t, not after all I’ve done. Not after the last few weeks. After—” He stops short. “My demon is at bay for now, but you shouldn’t trust me with her.”

Nick tilts his head, considering Sel’s words and his expression.

They lock eyes and it takes everything in me not to interrogate them both further. Because even though they’re speaking in English, I’m missing something.

Then, it clicks: Sel didn’t caution Nick about trusting him to protect me. He cautioned Nick about trusting him with me. Because Sel doesn’t trust himself with me, either.

Nick doesn’t know about Sel’s mesmer. The lies. But he responds as if he does. “Dwi yn,” he murmurs, then translates. “I do trust you.”