He reached into his waistcoat pocket, and only when I felt his knuckles brush against my bodice did I realize how close I was to him. But I remained where I was, standing between his legs, and he knew what I wanted. He found his handkerchief, offering it to me with a wry smile.

“Don’t smile,” I scolded. “You’re making the bleeding worse.”

He winced as I pressed the handkerchief against the cut. I moved my other hand to the back of his head, my fingers weaving into his hair. He stiffened, as if I had pierced him to the bone. When I met his gaze, I found that his eyes were dark and inscrutable, riveted to my own.

“Is this punishment?” he whispered.

Yes, I wanted to say. Punishment for stealing my home, for burning my artwork. For not being as I expected.

“For what?” I countered, pressing harder on his cheek.

“For waking you too early?”

I tried to hem my laughter, but it escaped in a rush. “No, of course not. This was nothing more than an accident.”

But I sensed that he struggled to believe me. And I realized that I hadn’t laughed in a very long time as a soft ache bloomed in my chest.

“Who taught you how to handle a blade?” he asked. When his hand slid over mine . . . I was the one to turn rigid. The heat of our skin meeting seemed to burn right through me—a spark of wildfire.

“No one,” I said, pulling away from him. “You should keep pressure on it, until the bleeding eases.”

To my surprise, he was silent as I strode across the library. But I suppose he didn’t like the thought of me running from him either, and his voice chased me just as I reached the doors.

“Where are you going, Miss Neven? Surely you are not conceding this spar to me.”

I tarried on the threshold and cast a languid glance his way. “I won this round, Mr. Vesper. And I’m going for a walk.”

Autumn hung golden in the air as I wandered. It was October sixteenth, and it felt as if a year had passed since I had lost Hereswith, not a mere month. I explored the streets’ winding bends and corners until I felt as if I could walk their paths with my eyes closed and the sun was beginning to set.

I paused on the curb of our territory line, watching as a slight breeze rustled the oaks and people hurried home early, carrying parcels and packages from the market. Soon, this city would feel dead and empty, stricken with terror.

I was lost in such thoughts when I recognized Olivette and Nura walking toward me, hand in hand.