The worst thing I can do right now is to let my nerves give me away. “I’m afraid I don’t know much. He was brought in by the gate guards one morning, and he was delirious with fever. When he woke, he remembered nothing. He wore a bracelet carved with the words ‘For my Dineas.’”

“Do you still have this bracelet?”

“It was burned, along with the rest of his clothes.”

“In his fever, did he talk about anything? Ramble about anything that might give a clue?”

I remember the time Dineas almost said my name in front of Jesmin, before his memory had fully faded away. “He talked of battles, mostly. He called after fallen friends, or cried out that he was being attacked.”

Arxa leans forward. “Any names that you remember?”

Of course he’d ask for names. “I’m sorry, Commander. At that time he was simply one of many patients. I had no reason to think he’d warrant special attention.”

“Of course. I don’t blame you.” He falls silent a long moment. “A fighter with his talents is a rare find. And for him to just show up like this, abandoned at the colony. It’s strange.” He looks up at me. “You’ve had experience with amnesic patients, Zivah. Do they ever recover their memory? If I offer him a place in my army, I need to be sure of his allegiance.”

I shake my head. “The rose plague fever burns hot. I don’t know if anyone has ever regained his past.” Then I see an opportunity. “There’s one thing I’d like to try. Rose plague fever, when it hits the mind, has lingering subtle effects. Dineas likely has not retained his full fighting ability, and he may have trouble making sense of the world. While I think it’s a lost cause to recover his past, I do have some potions in mind that might restore his physical skills and ease his transition back into everyday life. This will allow me to watch him carefully as well, and if he surprises us by remembering more of his old life, I can inform you right away.”

“Yes, please do, Zivah. I want to find out everything I can about him.” As he stands, he takes a rolled parchment out of his pocket. “This was sent to my estate from Dara. It’s a letter from your family.”

My breath catches. Leora had mentioned she would write, but with the distance, I hadn’t allowed myself to hope for a letter. I take the roll carefully by the edges, as if I might crush it with my eagerness.

“I’ll let you read it,” says Arxa, and leaves me.

Only after he’s left do I realize I hadn’t even said good-bye. But I’m already running my fingers under the edge of the parchment. The clay seal, unsurprisingly, has already been opened.

Dearest Zivah,