Rohan could tell she was struggling mightily and explained the obvious. “To cover against any accidental or forced ingestion of the dragon-bone broth. And this way I can stay here and keep playing your servant, and I can help you if you need it.” Rohan hesitated, looking terribly aggrieved. “But please, will you acknowledge that this is what you’re doing? Because if it’s not, I’m going to lose my mind. Please, Thisbe. I… Just please say it!”

Thisbe opened her eyes and looked at Rohan, her chin trembling. It was the thing she wanted more than anything—to have Rohan know and understand what she was doing. To have him accept her and forgive her for the anguish she’d caused. But everything was so confusing, and she couldn’t think it all through. Was there anything that could happen to him now if she admitted to everything? He already had his guesses. And he had the ancestor broth. It seemed useless to carry on with the lies now that he knew that’s what they were.

Before she could answer, there was a thumping noise growing louder in the hallway, followed by a hard knock at the door. Thisbe panicked. She shoved the vials of broth into Rohan’s bag and chucked it under the bed. “Act like a servant,” she hissed. Then she went to the door and opened it a crack.

The Revinir pushed the door open wide and seemed surprised to see Rohan standing there, methodically folding Thisbe’s sweater.

“What’s going on?” Thisbe asked, trying to breathe normally.

The Revinir lifted her snout. “I heard a rumor from some dragons that Rohan had escaped from your balcony. I thought that sounded awfully suspect, since humans under my mind control would never think to do such a thing.”

Thisbe frowned. “Escaped? Obviously not. But I did make him sleep on the balcony.” She tapped her lips. “Hmm. Perhaps that was part of the confusion? They saw him out there, and then he was gone, so they made the wrong assumption?”

Rohan finished with the sweater, then stood still and gazed at the wall next to where the Revinir stood.

The Revinir eyed him suspiciously. “He doesn’t look very well rested.”

“I suppose it was a bit chilly,” Thisbe said agreeably. “Maybe tonight I’ll give him a blanket.”

The Revinir laughed. “He’s survived worse.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Thisbe said, laughing too, though she wanted to punch the dragon-woman in the snout.

“All right,” the Revinir said. “Well, breakfast is being served in the ballroom, Thisbe, so come along with me. Rohan, you can get your gruel in the kitchen. It’s one floor down from here.”

“Great,” said Thisbe, forcing herself not to look at Rohan even though everything between them was up in the air.