“You tell me, Captain.” Akeylah’s voice dripped with sarcasm, through Rozalind, as she looked at the Talon. “Are our Talons trained enough to secure a single young woman?”

The captain’s mouth twitched at the corners. “I believe we can handle it, Your Majesty.”

Rueno ducked his head. He may be stubborn, but he knew when to hold his tongue, too.

“Now, you have heard my decision.” Akeylah glanced at Rozalind. She didn’t have much time left. The tithe ached. Made her want to crawl out of her skin. “Captain, see it done.”

Then she sank into her loudest coughing fit yet. Underneath the thick blankets, her fingertips tingled. She clenched her teeth as the tingle became an itch became a burn.

“I’m afraid I need to ask you two to leave now.” Rozalind placed a firm hand on both men’s shoulders. “If you see the mender on your way out, send her in, please.”

“Roz… alind,” Akeylah growled. Get them out of here, she thought, desperate.

At a glance in her direction, Rozalind reached for the curtains around the bed and casually flicked them shut, far enough to obscure Akeylah from view.

Everything burned. Almost as bad as a Vulgar Arts curse. She could feel her face start to split, like a sunburn peeling open, as it began to change back. She flung a hand across it and moaned in agony. She wished she had as much practice at tithing as Zofi. Her sister would likely be able to hold this tithe longer than she was managing.

“Is he quite all right?” Lord Rueno hesitated on the threshold.

“He will be,” Rozalind promised. “You have your orders, gentlemen. Thank you for coming by.” With that, she slammed the bedroom door and collapsed against it.

With a final burst of itching, followed by a sensation like plunging her entire body into a cool bath, Akeylah’s face returned to its normal shape. She levered herself up on one elbow to peer around the curtain. Rozalind held her ear to the keyhole.

Only once the sounds on the far side faded did the queen let out a sigh of relief. “That was too close.” She glared at Akeylah.

“I know.” Akeylah flung back the covers and surged to her feet. “But it worked.”

“You need to be more careful.” Rozalind stepped toward her, expression serious. “You take all these risks to protect others. What about protecting yourself?”

“I protect myself.” Even as she said it, she recognized the irony of the statement. In posing as Andros, she’d left herself vulnerable to the heir. From the depleted scratch in her veins, it’d be a few hours yet until she’d have the strength to shield herself again.

Rozalind reached her side. Akeylah’s skin burned with the memory of the queen’s fingertips. All the places they’d explored last night. “Not when it counts,” Rozalind whispered.