“Of course I have,” he snaps, but it’s too quick, and I laugh, though I peter off quickly.

“So a witch did all the disrupting tonight? An emotional one?”

Yorl nods. “Undoubtedly. A strong one, too, if the ability to insulate the city from the quake subconsciously is any indication. I’d check with Varia’s contacts in the Crimson Lady and pore over the data with them, but they despise me.”

“Too smart for them, are you?” Malachite chirps.

“Too celeon.” Yorl says it like it’s been used as an insult against him more than once.

“Ah,” Malachite nods. “I know that feeling.”

“They might hold disdain for me, but they are not altogether hopeless at their jobs. With any luck, they’ll be able to pinpoint where the magic came from in a few days’ time. In the meantime, you—” He looks to me, then to Malachite. “You can take a day off while I settle everything back in its proper place.”

I get the message to not spill any details of what we’re doing down here in front of the prince’s bodyguard, but I can feel Malachite’s red eyes boring into the both of us. Malachite and I bid Yorl goodbye, leaving him to bandage his fellows more properly, and start up the steps. We walk slowly in the ashes of South Gate, Malachite’s wounds still affecting his gait, though his hands are positioned casually behind his head.

“I don’t know why he keeps trying,” Malachite admits up at the stars. “If I were him, I would’ve dumped you the second you tried to kill me.”

He. Lucien. I laugh, half despairing. The memory of the kiss tonight sends little flames licking at the underside of my belly, but I quash them angrily. “Yeah. I would’ve, too.”

“The king’s not too happy about it,” Malachite continues. “Back when Varia told him you were Heartless, he wanted to make some kinda formal announcement right away that you weren’t Lucien’s Spring Bride anymore, but Luc refused. He threw a fit, ruined the whole ‘happy family reunion’ and everything.”

I kick a pile of wood ash, black flaking away on the wind. “The last thing I want is for him to lose family over me. For him to lose anything over me.”

“You know,” Malachite says after a beat, “I’m actually inclined to believe you—you, the greatest con man Vetris has ever seen—this one time.”

“That’s a very impressive-sounding title for only having put on a few dresses and talking about potatoes,” I grumble. This ekes a laugh from him.