Anton recognized a deflection when he heard one. “Why did the Hierophant have you? What were you doing in Pallas Athos?”

Evander blinked his wide blue eyes at Anton. “After you left Endarrion, a group of Witnesses turned up, looking for you. I guess some of the people at Lady Bellrose’s party remembered you two and remembered that I was the one who’d brought you.”

“And they sold you out to the Witnesses?” Anton guessed.

Evander nodded. “They … once they knew Pallas had returned, most of the city declared its allegiance to him and Pallas Athos. Endarrion merchants like my father rely heavily on trade with Pallas Athos. I guess they all decided profit was worth more than my life. And more than the Graced in Endarrion, too.”

Anton let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Evander. I’m sorry we ever got you involved in all this.”

Evander’s face twisted into a frown. It wasn’t an expression Anton was used to seeing on him. “I don’t blame you. Not a bit. I just wish that there was something I could do to help you.”

Anton looked at his clear blue eyes and messy, dark hair, and felt that perhaps he’d never really been fair to Evander. He’d thought he’d known everything there was to know about this boy with all his beautiful clothes and frivolous stories, but there had always been more beneath the surface that Anton hadn’t bothered to examine.

“You helped me,” Anton assured him. “Before, in Endarrion, you helped us get Jude’s sword back. And before that, you were always a good friend to me. I’m just sorry I was never a very good friend to you.”

Evander looked a little hopeful and a little sad. “I always knew you were holding yourself back from me. When we first met, I liked you so much and there were times when I felt like you liked me, too, and then there would be this—this wall that you put up. Even when you were vulnerable it was … I don’t want to say it was an act, because I don’t think you were lying. But you only let me see that side of you when it suited you.”

Anton felt himself go a little stiff, realizing now for the first time that Evander hadn’t been as oblivious as he’d seemed and that Anton had been so transparent.

“I do care about you, Evander,” Anton said. “I did back then, too. I think I didn’t even realize how much at the time. I’m sorry.”

Evander shook his head with a little smile. “Don’t be sorry. Just…” He took a breath, nodding his head toward Jude’s sleeping form. “Try and do better this time.”