“I did hate her.” He paused, his gaze softening. “But I think . . . she hated herself more. She’s different now than I remember. Wiser. In any case, her heart is fragile with age, and I won’t tax it more than is necessary.” For just a moment, he glanced searchingly around the room. “I . . . had hoped to introduce one of your council members to my mother. Is . . . is the High Priestess—”

“Kirah isn’t here,” I said bluntly. “If that’s what you’re asking. She’s gone to face an alagbato in Blessid Valley. Then she’s off to Songland, to negotiate Arit reparations.” When his face fell, I rolled my eyes, taking pity on him. “I’m sure she hopes to see you in Songland,” I admitted. “And if you leave now, you could probably fly to Blessid Valley by nightfall.”

“Ah.” Woo In’s eyes shone considerably brighter. “Well. Perhaps I will. If I can be of assistance, I mean.”

In his sling, the baby roused, mewling softly.

“Ae Ri,” I gasped, recognizing the black tuft of hair. “She’s already so much bigger than when I saw her last. How are the other Redemptor children? Are they alone at the refuge?”

Ye Eun retrieved Ae Ri from Woo In’s sling, expertly settling the infant on one hip.

“The Sagimsan Refuge doesn’t exist anymore,” Ye Eun snapped. “After you cancelled the Redemptor Treaty, Queen Hye Sun sent an order to Songland: all Redemptors were to be adopted into regular families. So the other children got taken.”

“That’s wonderful,” I gushed, then knew immediately I had said the wrong thing. Ye Eun’s face reddened.

“No one wanted me,” she said quietly. “They said I’m cursed, since I’ve been to the Underworld already. And Ae Ri cried when the nobles tried to separate us. So . . .” Ye Eun chewed her lip, scowling at the floor. “I don’t care where I live. But I’m not going anywhere without Ae Ri.”

“You can stay here, in the suite,” I said hurriedly. “Both of you. For as long as you like.”

A small lump rose in my throat as Ae Ri fussed, and Ye Eun calmed her with a maternal coo. At twelve, Ye Eun was already a competent caregiver. But how long since anyone had mothered her?

My thoughts spiraled to The Lady. Already, the shadow she had cast over my life seemed eons away. Whenever I dwelled on it, my thoughts sputtered and fizzled, like oil drops on a brazier. I’d never been mothered either—not really. The Lady had seen me as a tool—an extension of herself. Then again, I had only seen her as a symbol. A totem for the familial closeness, the sense of belonging I craved. We had neither of us seen each other, not really. And we’d never have another chance again.

“May . . .” A sudden urge had overcame me. “May I hold Ae Ri?”

Ye Eun raised an eyebrow, then held out the fussing baby.