“That sounds delicious,” he said, while pulling out dried meat from his pack.

She watched his face for some sign of pity, but he wore a simple, kind smile as he held out the food to her. Raurie took the meat from him, then warmed it on a stick above the flames.

Ryuu held out the food to Aina, but she shook her head. She couldn’t eat if Teo might be going the night without any food.

“Don’t you ever eat anything?” Ryuu asked.

She shrugged, but then her stomach growled and gave her away. Reluctantly, she took the food from him and chewed slowly while staring into the flames.

She wished she could count down the time it took for the candles to burn to nothing, but that would only fray her nerves to stubs. She needed some other way to distract herself from thinking about Teo alone in one of those cells.

After they finished eating and Raurie fell asleep, her shawl pulled up to her chin, Ryuu said in a low voice, “Sometimes I can’t even remember my parents’ voices. Sometimes I’m jealous that Kouta was older, so he has more memories of them than I do.”

A dull pain ached in Aina’s heart when he said that. Maybe Ryuu had a photograph, but he had been younger than her when his parents died. Inhaling glue every day had leeched away many of her memories, but she still knew more about her parents than he did. Maybe he needed that picture in his nightstand. She recalled how serious Kouta had looked when she’d spied on him, how every time she’d seen him, he was working away at something. So different from his broad smile in the photograph.

“Your brother … He really took over your parents’ business when he was ten?”

“He had help, but yes. He became very good at running the business—selling tools, mining diamonds—and always made sure our workers were treated fairly. We would have lost everything if he hadn’t put on a brave face and taken over. Whenever it got overwhelming, he would shut himself in the library and devour book after book. I remember once, when I was six, it was the first anniversary of our parents’ death. Kouta was working all day, probably to avoid thinking about it, but I think he heard me crying. I was alone. He asked a maid to bring me sweets, and a while later, he came down and read me my favorite stories until I fell asleep.”

His eyes brightened a little at the memory. “When I got older, he told me he wanted me to pick my own path in life instead of feeling obligated to work for our parents’ business like he’d had to do. But I’ve always loved drawing and designing, so I began to sit in on meetings whenever the city consulted us on construction or ordered large shipments of tools. I’ve apprenticed with architects before too. That’s how I got access to these blueprints. Do you see why I have to help Kouta? My brother’s the strongest person I know. When he was still a child, he had to learn how to run a business, start investigating our parents’ deaths, and he kept me out of it so I could have more freedom in my life than he did. He’d go through hell to save me if our positions were reversed. Now it’s my turn to do the same for him, no matter the risks.”