Phalue shook her head. “I don’t, but I have to hope he’ll keep it.” They’d been keeping the caro nuts from shipping, paying the farmers but storing the nuts at the warehouses instead of sending them to Imperial. If Gio had any honor at all, he’d halt his plans for taking over Nephilanu. “I’d meant to ask before we got distracted: how is the family?”

Tythus barked out a laugh. “The same, mostly. My youngest came down with a fever. My wife was worried for a moment it might be the bog cough, but it cleared up after a few days.”

He’d always asked about her and she’d not known much about him – and she hadn’t bothered to find out. It was one of the things she was trying to remedy: her awareness of her place in the world and how that affected others.

Tythus’s gaze went past her. “Looks like we’ve been caught.”

Ayesh stood beneath the archway, dressed in the hand-me-downs of a servant’s child, a bundle clasped in her arms, hand curled around the top of it. She stared down at them as the supply wagon passed into the courtyard. Ranami stood behind the girl, her expression irritated. “You’re a governor,” Ayesh called out. “You know how to fight?”

Phalue beckoned her over. If she wanted to ask questions, she should do it up close.

Ranami crossed her arms, casting Phalue a questioning look. Phalue shrugged – what harm could it do to answer before the girl returned to the streets?

There was nothing hesitant in her step this time. She hurried over, nearly dropping the bundle. Someone in the kitchens had packed her buns and rice dumplings; faint trails of steam still rose from the package. There was a blanket too, and an oilskin cloak. “You know how to fight?” Ayesh asked again.

“I learned when I was young,” Phalue said. “My father indulged me, and I never stopped practicing.”

“Every day,” Tythus said next to her. “And she ropes me into this torture.”

“She makes you practice with her,” Ayesh said flatly.

Tythus raised an eyebrow. “No, she doesn’t make me. It keeps me fit. Phalue is a good sparring partner. And a good friend.”

The words warmed her in a way she hadn’t expected. Ayesh studied Phalue, as if trying to figure out whether Tythus was telling the truth. She skirted around them and started down the path to the city.

“Strange child,” Tythus muttered as she walked away.

But before she reached the first turn in the switchbacks, she stopped, turned again. “Can you teach me?”

Phalue frowned. “Teach you?”

“To fight,” Ayesh said, trudging back up the path once more. “I’m small, I know. But that’s why people think they can pick on me. I want to stand up for myself. I need to.”