I reflexively turned away from them, wishing I had worn a hat or carried a parasol like some people of the city did, to hide beneath. I was surprised by the regret that suddenly welled within me. Regret that tasted bitter in my mouth, because I longed to befriend them, and yet I couldn’t risk such a relationship.

I started to walk away, but Olivette saw me, and it was impossible to act as if I had not heard her bellow.

“Anna? Anna!” She frantically waved to catch my attention.

“Hello,” I greeted her, and approached them. “So good to see you both again.” And then all words fled when I saw what Olivette wore buckled around her waist—a leather weapon belt with two sheathed daggers. The twin to the one my father had gifted to me, years ago.

Nura noticed my stare and said, “It’s tradition. Oli likes to walk our streets with her weapons before the new moon rises.”

“It’s for good luck,” Olivette added.

“It’s . . . a very nice belt,” I stammered. “Where did you get it?”

“My father made it for me,” Olivette replied. “If you like it, I can see if he can make one for you.”

The sad fact was my own belt was at my mother’s, tucked away in one of my trunks. Phelan would unfortunately recognize it; I remembered how he had studied my hips, the way my daggers had shone at the dinner table in Hereswith.

“Oh, no,” I said. “But thank you for the offer.”

“Would you like to join us?” Nura asked.

“I probably shouldn’t. I was walking Phelan’s streets, to reacquaint myself before tonight.”

“They’re your streets now, too,” Olivette said. “And where is Phelan?”

“He already had his walk this morning. I would have accompanied him, but I was still sleeping.”

“Ah, yes, we only just woke ourselves,” Olivette confessed with a disarming smile. “New moons are the only morning Nura will let me sleep in so late.”

I returned the smile. “Yes, well, I only had until nine until Phelan woke me for sword lessons.”

“He’s very anxious about tonight,” Nura said, exchanging a concerned glance with Olivette.

“Is there a reason why he should be?” I asked.

“Did he tell you about his first new moon here? How he was wounded?” said Olivette.

“He briefly mentioned it.”

“I think that’s why, although he refuses to tell us what, exactly, wounded him so badly.”

“And we don’t feel it right to press him about it,” Nura added. “But it worries us. It’s been a year since a warden was killed on the new moon in this part of the city, but it does happen occasionally.”