The commotion of voices and carts faded into the distance. Akadra fell silent, perhaps reflecting on the wisdom of confronting an agitated orphan with her parent’s suicide. Or perhaps not. He didn’t look the type to second-guess. Calenne envied him that.

“Must I take the weapon from you?” he rumbled. “I’d prefer you set it aside through choice. Less discomfort for us both.”

Calenne suspected the discomfort he meant was hers alone. In any case, she’d no illusions of besting the Council’s champion. She took a deep breath and set the sword down.

He lowered his hands, crossing them at the small of his back. “Thank you.”

She regarded him sidelong, again surprised by his solemnity. Almost charming, in a grim sort of way. Not the brash, dazzling presence of the late Kasamor Kiradin, Lumestra embrace him, but a stolid certainty of manner and poise.

“Why were you watching me while I slept?”

“An exaggeration. I arrived moments before you awoke.”

“I expect you’re waiting to be thanked. For saving me.”

Again, the not-quite smile. “Duty requires no thanks. And as to what quarrel occurred between you and Kasamor that set you fleeing into the night? I shan’t pry. Some matters should remain private.”

A precipice yawned beneath Calenne’s feet. “You saved me because of Kasamor?”

“I saved you because you were in need.” He shrugged. “That you are my friend’s wife makes me all the gladder.”

She could lie. Of course she could. But Akadra would discover the truth soon enough.

“Then you haven’t heard?”

She felt his eyes on hers, colder than before – his expression hard where before it had offered only empathy . . . even kindness.

“Heard what?” For the first time, a hint of danger crept into Akadra’s tone.

Calenne lowered her eyes from his. “Kasamor’s dead. He died days ago.”

Akadra’s brow furrowed. A muscle jumped in his jaw. Slowly, steadily, he turned his back to her. His right hand tightened about his left wrist. He neither spoke, nor uttered any sound. Yet somehow, his presence filled the small pavilion in a way it hadn’t before. Goose bumps raised across Calenne’s flesh. For a moment, she thought she saw her breath frosting in what so recently had been balmy air.

“How did he die?” Akadra asked at last.

Calenne shivered away the imagined cold. That belonged to her nightmares, not the waking moment. “On the road. More than that, I don’t know. Lady Kiradin’s letter said almost nothing.”

“And his companion?” His voice took on fresh urgency.

“I don’t know.” In all the hours she’d dwelled on the fateful news, Calenne hadn’t stopped to consider if others had perished alongside. “I’m sorry. Was she important?”