Iván points toward my hairline, to remind me that I haven’t quite finished my story.

“The truth is, we don’t know for sure how it got there,” I tell him. “Mara was the one who noticed it, a little while after Elisa healed me. Just a little blotch above my forehead that gradually grew out with my hair. Father Nicandro is sure it was Elisa’s magic, though. Did you know that an animagus’s hair grows lighter and lighter with magic use? That’s why so many of them have white hair. Anyway, I’ve always been close to the magic of the earth. I can sense Godstones being used, just like a priest can, or like Elisa’s sister Alodia. I mean, I’m no sorcerer, but Father Nicandro thinks that my affinity, combined with an enormous dose of healing power, caused a bit of my hair to turn white.”

He doesn’t respond for so long that I’m sure I must have offended him somehow. He just stares off into the distance, his dark eyes churning. I pull the rag away and inspect his lip. “The bleeding has stopped. You might want to take a rag to bed with you, though.”

He catches my wrist as I’m drawing away. “This assassin. The one who almost killed you. It was Franco, wasn’t it?” His grip is a little painful.

I blink. “Yes. Though his Invierno name, his real name, was Listen to the Falling Water, for Her Secrets Carve Canyons into Hearts of Stone.”

When Iván doesn’t respond, I add, “And yes, I realize he’s the man who conspired with your father to start a civil war.”

“No wonder you hate me.”

“I don’t ha— I mean, Rosario has ordered us to get along, so I will if you will.”

He releases my wrist so fast that I lurch backward. Any semblance of peace between us seems to be gone; his brow is furrowed, his dark eyes churn. “By telling me all that,” he says, soft and low, “were you trying to make me feel sorry for you? Do you want me to know how much you’ve suffered?” His tone is contemptuous, mocking.

“No.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Iván, I was just answering your questions. No one has to feel sorry for me. Since becoming ward of the empress, I’ve had such comfort and ease. I had a rough start, sure, and being half Invierno doesn’t exactly win me friends, but I’m still the luckiest girl in the world. All those things can be true at once, you know.”

Ivan’s not looking at me anymore. He pulls his vest from the bucket and wrings it out over the floor drain. “We should get back to the barracks. Get some sleep if we can.”

“You still owe me the answer to a question. We had a deal, remember?”

His frown deepens. “Fine. Ask your question.”

After assuring myself that the bloodstains are no longer visible, I follow his lead and wring the water from my shirt. “Elisa ruined your father,” I tell him, shaking it out flat. “I mean, he deserved it, but she destroyed him utterly, exiled him, gave him over to the Inviernos.”