“Let me guess,” said Ayla. “You got bathed.”

The differences were obvious: his curls were sleek and shiny, the grime scrubbed off his skin, the briny rotten-fish-stowaway smell replaced by the scent of perfumed oils. Where he’d been growing the beginnings of a beard while they were on the run, he was now clean shaven, looking younger for it.

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t imagine what gave it away.”

“For starters, I can see your freckles again,” she teased. “But also, they got me too.”

“I can tell. You smell like . . .” He sniffed the air dramatically. “Gods, is that lavender?”

Ayla snorted, pretending to shove him away. “I know, it’s so much, I feel like Cr—” She cut off, swallowing hard. “Like a lady.”

She could sense Benjy looking at her, his gaze intense on the side of her face, but she couldn’t look back. She just stared down at her lap, but even that was strange. Her lap wasn’t usually dressed in layers of deep blue brocade.

“The queen wants to train me,” Benjy offered, quiet. “Brush up on my combat skills, something like that. Did you know some of the guards here are human? Before I came here they showed me the armory. I’ve never seen so many weapons in my life. Do you think I’d be good at archery? I don’t think so. I’m better at close range, I think, because I’ve got such a long reach.” He cleared his throat. “But maybe if—”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t kill Crier,” Ayla burst out. She’d been holding it in for what felt like a thousand years, ever since the night they’d fled the palace, and here, now, she was breaking. Maybe it was the cold, claustrophobic feeling that she’d simply traded one gilded cage for another; maybe it was the confusion about Queen Junn’s motives; maybe it was the dizzying relief of seeing Benjy again, knowing he was okay, that neither of them were alone in this palace, this city, this country. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I ruined everything. I put your life in danger, I could’ve gotten you killed, just because I couldn’t—I couldn’t—”

Above them, the birds circled and sang.

“I know you are,” Benjy said eventually. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing once. “And . . . I know why you couldn’t.”

She shook her head, not even sure what she was denying, only that she had to deny it.

“You forget I know you better than anyone else,” he said. “You want her. Or love her. Or at least something close. Something just as intense as your hatred.” He squeezed her hand one more time and then let go. “I was furious with you. Still am, I think. I won’t pretend otherwise. And I won’t pretend to understand how you could care for her, after everything. How she became your weak spot. How she turned you soft. But I . . . will try to accept it, I guess. I accept it, I accept—whatever happens. I don’t know. Yes, I’m furious, but yes, you’re my best friend, and yes, I love you. Till they put me in the dirt and then beyond. We both could have died that night, but here we are. And now we’re cooperating with the leech queen herself. In the name of the Revolution, the greater good, in the name of stopping Kinok, but still. It’s a compromise. It makes my skin crawl. And I’m doing it anyway.”