I retrieved a strip of cloth from Ana’s supplies and left the small infirmary. As I bandaged my hand, I glanced up and peeked into the old sanctuary, only to find Ana standing over Isla’s body. She had drawn her shroud down, exposing her face to the grim light. I wondered how long she would let her lover rot in this dark cavern, but even I could not bring myself to ask when she might let her go. I had no right. I had not lost Adrian.

Ana’s head shot up as I entered, and she dropped her hands from atop Isla’s body. My face grew hot with shame—I should have never interrupted her. I hesitated a step and then spoke.

“I’m sorry. I should not—” I stopped talking abruptly and turned to leave.

“No, it’s okay,” Ana called, though her voice trembled. “I have been here too long.”

I relented, facing her again. She had covered Isla once more and came around the stone altar, dressed in black. Her eyes blazed, rimmed red from her tears.

I took a step closer to her and spoke in a hushed tone. The weight in this room demanded it.

“Nothing is too long when it is goodbye.”

She offered a slight smile and we walked together to the opposite end of the sanctuary, putting distance between us and Isla’s corpse.

Though we had learned with Ciro that vampires who were consumed by the mist stayed dead, I could not help feeling unsettled so near a corpse. I had seen too many reanimate and rise, only to cause complete chaos.

“Did you need me?” Ana asked.

Our steps slowed until we came to a stop, and I studied her, wishing I could give her time to grieve before approaching this, but things had escalated too quickly, especially after court. I felt as though we had no time, but before I could speak, Ana’s eyes fell to the hand I had crudely bandaged.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just…a small cut.”

“That does not look small, Isolde.”

The bandage was already soaked through with blood.

“Adrian can heal it,” I said.

She did not look pleased with my response, but relented. After a moment, I took a breath.

“I hoped to ask you about your magic.”

I did not think Ana could grow paler, but what little redness had colored her cheeks vanished. She could not be that surprised by my question—she had to know that I would ask her eventually.

“I would not call that magic,” said Ana.

“What would you call it?” I countered.

Ana was silent, so I tried another line of questioning.

“Does Adrian know you practice?”

“He knows I study spells,” she said, as if to correct me.

“You do more than study,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You speak them aloud.”