His mouth curves, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Everyone has been buzzing about you.”

“Oh?” I say, wondering if it’s appropriate to show too much interest. “And what are they saying?”

“That you’re either the Soul of Thiy or the Ruin of the West.”

I stare a moment and then let out a short burst of laughter. “Ruin?”

“Not everyone stands to benefit from what you can do.” He looks me over, and the way his lips compress and one eyebrow lifts tells me well enough what he thinks.

Ass. I lift my head, meeting his eyes and abandoning my attempt at deference. “How would you know what I can do?”

I am not beholden to this prince. No one will chain me to the stocks or force me to haul barrels up and down the tower for a misplaced look or speaking out of turn. I’ve not yet been able to shed myself of habits ingrained into me by the Company, but as long as I’m here, I won’t stand for humiliation or ridicule. Although I yearn for the life I’d lost mere days ago, I hope never again to be made small to appease someone else’s ego.

“Because I know what a soulguide can do,” he says.

Such knowledge is probably why he agreed to help me in the first place. “Do you mean to introduce yourself, or will I have to guess your name?”

He stands. Although not nearly Ronin’s height, he’s still very tall. With the lantern at his back, shadows steal across his face as he bows. “Hlau Theyen Yee of Penumbria, seat of the Fireborn Queens.”

Penumbria is one of the largest mountain cities in Kazahyn, its exact location unknown to outsiders. The Kazan don’t acknowledge a single monarch. Instead, each clan has its own leader and customs. One of the oldest and most powerful among them are the Fireborn Queens, a matriarchal clan. What reason would a Hlau of Penumbria have to be here?

He takes his seat again and flicks his hand at the chair opposite his. “Sit, if you must.” When I don’t move, he adds, “Or stand there and gawk. The view must be far more magnificent than what you’re used to.”

My brows twitch together. I’d prefer to leave, but we haven’t yet spoken about my magic, and he might know more about the gossip beyond Spinner’s End.

I sit. “They’re not really calling me those things, are they?”

When he answers, he keeps one finger slowly moving across his page as if still reading. “They are, although I doubt any know what they’re talking about. Most who might have heard the word soulguide would have acquired the knowledge through superstitions and folk stories. Next thing you know, they’ll be claiming to have seen you take flight and disappear into the sun.”