He dropped my hands and slumped back against his cushioned seat. “Of course you’re correct.” He tipped his head against the cushions. “I have no right to be angry at you. I am a fool. But then, you already knew that.”

“I…did?” My eyebrows drew together as I studied him.

It felt wrong to see Leander looking so defeated, without his cloak of constant, careless confidence. It felt as if something had just broken in the air between us, something precious and fragile that I hadn’t even noticed until I felt it shatter into pieces.

Shaking his head slowly, he closed his eyes against me. “Never mind, Mia. You don’t owe me anything—and you certainly don’t need to worry about my feelings. We’re allies, as you’ve always said. Friendly allies.” Irony laced his tone, but it faded away as he finished quietly, “That’s enough.”

I’d been telling myself exactly that for weeks. Friendly allies was more than I’d even dreamed of before I’d met Leander Fabian. It was the only possible future that I could allow myself to imagine.

The carriage swept on through the night for hours afterwards, and Leander didn’t open his eyes or speak again.

Still, neither of us slept along the way.

We took refuge in a rambling, old coaching inn before dawn light could burn our coachman’s skin and crumble the bones of his skeletal horses. The inn wasn’t signposted from any road but sat at the end of a long and twisting, narrow tree tunnel, hidden well away from any casual traveler’s view. Ours was the only carriage visible as we pulled up, and the innkeeper was quick to hide everything away, safe from the encroaching sun.

When we were shown inside, I found every window shuttered. The whole building felt heavy and still with sleep. I was only too glad to fall into my own bed once I’d unpacked enough inventions to stand guard over me all day long.

A discreet knock at the door, some hours later, signaled twilight’s arrival, along with a small pot of hot, cardamom-scented tea and a platter of spicy lentil curry that cleared the grogginess from my head. It couldn’t clear up anything else, though, so an hour later, Leander and I faced each other in the carriage once again as it swept through yet another dark night with our last encounter still echoing through the air between us.

I cursed myself for not thinking to bring any work that I could have done with my hands to keep them busy.

Before I could lose all control and start dismantling the metal carriage lamp, Leander spoke. “I’m afraid there’s been a slight complication.” His voice was perfectly civil…and infinitely cooler than the warm, inviting tones that I’d thought were his default.