Rhyanon made an exaggerated gesture of impatience. “If the Order wants to make a big show of being generous and benevolent and forward-thinking, for Eater’s sake, let them.” She jabbed her pastry in my direction. “You’re a free woman. Be happier.”

“I am happy.”

“Then act like it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe if you stopped telling me off.”

Rhyanon was right, though—even now, I felt unsettled. Cyde’s death continued to haunt me; until returning home, I had harboured a faint hope that the Reverend might have made it. I knew it wasn’t really my fault; she had chosen to make that last stand. I just couldn’t quite let go of my guilt.

Jaylen placed a bulb into the soil and buried it.

Lariel’s body, on the other hand, had not been recovered. Maybe Celane had pushed her off the Edge, but I didn’t believe that. A couple of weeks ago, Millie had found a single crossbow bolt driven through the wood of her front door.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” asked Rhyanon. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just caught up inside my own head.”

“Well, if you’re after a distraction, I have a lot of work—”

“No,” I said sternly.

As the administrative chaos of restructuring the Order mounted, Rhyanon had been dropping increasingly obvious hints about me joining her on the new Council. With so few of the original Councilwomen remaining and everyone stripped of their lace, the process had turned into a logistical nightmare. Scheming was already rife amongst the various factions—traditionalist, civilian, and, well, those following Saskia Asan.

“I thought, now that you’ve been cleared…” Rhyanon began.

“You don’t need me.”

She huffed. “Of course I don’t need you. But you would certainly help.”

“Sitting in a room and listening to people yell at each other for eight hours a day is just about the last thing—”

“I know.” She glanced at me. “I’d love to have you around, that’s all.”

Jaylen moved on to the next bulb. Rhyanon’s dog wandered over to her and sniffed at the turned earth.

“Consider it?” she said. “Maybe not yet, but I’ll make sure a seat stays open for you. If you want it.”

“You’re far too kind,” I murmured.

She brushed pastry crumbs off her leg. “Just building up future credit. So?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh good, a definitive answer.”

“I will. Really.”

She snorted. “All right, fine; I’ll wait. But what’s your plan now?”

From the street beyond her garden, I heard someone singing. An orange butterfly settled on the spout of Jaylen’s watering can. It unfolded its wings, soaking in the sunlight.

“I’m leaving,” I said slowly. “Not permanently. It’s just … with the trial over, it feels like the right time.”

Rhyanon sighed.

“You’ll miss me terribly?” I asked, amused.

“Of course not.”

“But I’ll miss you.”

“As you should,” she grumbled. “So you’re going to leave me with all the difficult work, and run off to join an expedition. What about your friends?”