He put his hand lightly on Jonathan’s shoulder as he spoke. It was a small gesture Isabelle would not even have noted, except for the fact that she had never seen Alec reach out like that to anyone who was not family and that Jonathan Wayland went perfectly still at his touch, as if he was afraid the tiniest movement would scare Alec away.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Alec added sympathetically.

“No,” Jonathan Wayland whispered.

Isabelle thought it was perfectly clear Jonathan Wayland would claim having his leg cut off did not hurt, but Alec was an honest soul.

“Okay,” said her brother. “Let me grab a few things from the infirmary. Let’s deal with this together.”

Alec nodded in an encouraging fashion and went to fetch supplies from the infirmary, leaving Isabelle and this weird bleeding boy alone together.

“So you and your brother seem … really close,” Jonathan said.

Isabelle blinked. “Sure.”

What a concept, being close to your family. Isabelle refrained from being sarcastic, as Jonathan was both unwell and a guest.

“So … I guess you’re going to be parabatai,” Jonathan ventured.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” said Isabelle. “Being parabatai is a little old-fashioned, isn’t it? Besides, I don’t like the idea of giving up my independence. Before I am my parents’ daughter or my brothers’ sister, I am my own. I’m already a lot of people’s something. I don’t need to be anyone else’s anything, not for a long time. You know?”

Jonathan smiled. He had a chipped tooth. Isabelle wondered how that had happened, and hoped it had been chipped in an awesome fight. “I don’t know. I’m not really anyone’s anything.”

Isabelle bit her lip. She had never realized before that she took feeling secure for granted.

Jonathan had glanced at Isabelle as he spoke, but immediately after he returned to watching the door through which Alec had disappeared.

Isabelle could not help observing that Jonathan Wayland had lived in their home for less than three hours, and he was already trying to lock down a parabatai.

Then he slouched further into his chair, resuming his too-cool-for-the-Institute attitude, and she forgot the thought in annoyance that Jonathan was such a show-off. She, Isabelle, was the only show-off this Institute needed.

She and Jonathan stared each other down until Alec returned.

“Oh—would you rather I put on the bandages or do you want to do it yourself?”

Jonathan’s face was opaque. “I can do it myself. I don’t need anything.”

“Oh,” Alec said unhappily.