“You’ll get injured if you push yourself too hard. You’re already doing eight shows a week.”

The soft voice sharpened. “I’m fine. Maybe Sunday, okay?” The only day the dance company didn’t perform.

“Sure,” Bryce said. Her chest tightened, enough that she said, “Call me when you’re free.”

“Will do.”

Their goodbyes were quick, and Bryce had barely hung up when she dialed another number.

Fury’s phone went right to audiomail. Not bothering to leave a message, Bryce set down her phone and pried open the container of hummus, then leftover noodles, then some possibly rotten pork stew. Magic kept most of the food in her fridge fresh, but there were rational limits.

Grunting, she dumped the stew into the trash. Syrinx frowned up at her.

“Even you wouldn’t eat that, my friend,” she said.

Syrinx waggled his tail again and bounded for the couch.

The silence of her apartment grew heavy.

One friend—that was what her social circle had become. Fury had made it clear she had no interest in bothering with her anymore.

So now, with her solitary friend too busy with her career to hang out on a reliable schedule, especially in the upcoming summer months when the company performed throughout the week … Bryce supposed she was down to zero.

Bryce half-heartedly ate the hummus, dipping slightly slimy carrots into the spread. The crunch of them filled the silence of the apartment.

That too-familiar surge of self-pity came creeping in, and Bryce chucked the carrots and hummus in the garbage before padding for the couch.

She flipped through the channels until she found the local news. Syrinx peered up at her expectantly. “Just you and me tonight, bud,” she said, plopping down next to him.

On the news, Rigelus, Bright Hand of the Asteri, appeared, giving some speech on new trade laws at a gilded podium. Behind him, the five other Asteri sat enthroned in their crystal chamber, cold-faced and radiating wealth and power. As always, the seventh throne sat empty in honor of their long-dead sister. Bryce changed the channel again, this time to another news station, blasting footage of lines of human-built mech-suits going toe-to-toe with elite Imperial Legions on a muddy battlefield. Another channel showed starving humans lined up for bread in the Eternal City, their children wailing with hunger.

Bryce switched to a show about buying vacation houses unseen and watched without really processing it.

When was the last time she’d read a book? Not for work or research, but for pleasure? She’d read loads before everything with Danika, but that part of her brain had just turned off afterward.

She’d wanted to drown out any sort of calm and quiet. The blaring television had become her companion to drive the silence away. The dumber the show, the better.