Tristam rubbed his arms, both to stay warm and to rein in his nerves as he kept his post on the roof. He had a decent vantage point from here, though no direct view of the Guildhouse.

He heard a scuffling sound and turned to see Flick climbing up the ladder.

“She’s got the keys,” said Flick. “Should be there now.”

Tristam nodded, though he kept his eye on the road. “We really should be closer to the Guild.” Kyra had been adamant that everyone stay away.

Flick snorted. “Might as well bring in trumpets to announce our presence.”

Tristam let the insult go unanswered. Kyra’s friend had been trying his patience all evening, but he had more pressing things to do than take his bait. He hunched his shoulders against the breeze and listened for signs of anything amiss.

“You likely won’t see her coming unless she wants you to,” said Flick after a while.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“I’ve waited on her plenty, back before she was the Palace’s errand girl.”

Tristam shot him an annoyed look. “It was her choice to do this.”

“It was a false choice. You had her by the throat.”

Flick was wrong about that. Kyra had been forced to go into the forest—and Tristam still felt guilty when he thought of the way he’d coerced her—but this job was personal for her. Flick would have seen it too, if he hadn’t been so eager to hate the Palace. Tristam didn’t know whether Kyra wanted revenge or redemption, but she’d wanted it.

“You might not believe me,” said Tristam, “but I really don’t wish her harm. I like her.”

“Do you?” If Tristam had meant to win Flick’s trust by that comment, the warning in Flick’s voice signaled clearly that the effort had backfired.

“I mean that I respect her abilities. What she’s accomplished,” said Tristam.

Flick shot him a sideways glance. “Better be what you meant.”

Tristam gritted his teeth. “Of course it is. What do you think I am?”

“A wallhugger. Who’s used to taking what he wants and leaving others to pick up the pieces.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” said Tristam, and walked away.

But he couldn’t quite leave Flick’s words behind. How did he really feel about Kyra? She was like no one he’d ever met before, and he couldn’t deny that she was beautiful when she worked. Tristam once again saw her playful smile when she’d teased him about being fat. He still wasn’t quite sure what had happened, only that they’d both realized what shaky footing they were on. When Kyra had moved to distance herself from him, he’d let her. He was her jailer, and she was his prisoner. For the hundredth time, he told himself to remember that.