The history of the Leonodai is built on the names of lost warriors. I don’t want the next chapter to be built on the names of lost children.

Back in the present, my mother switches to humming, then after a beat, I hear a low whistle. Two sparrows take flight. I bet they’re going to the healers to see if there’s been news. A few minutes later, she knocks on my door and lets herself in.

“You’d sit out on the window bench like that when you were little.” She holds out a cup of water, and I take it. “I thought you’d outgrown it.”

“Oh, I have.” I push back with my shoulder and sit up, swinging my legs down where they can fully extend. Pinpricks and goose bumps travel up my shins.

“What a lovely morning,” she says. Beyond us, the clouds are wispy, whipped by the wind of the skies above. “Makes you forget.”

“I watched them go.”

“I thought you might,” she replies.

“I should be with them.”

My mother sighs. “We can’t always do the things we want to do. Besides, there is much more work to be done here. Have you heard from your sister at all?”

“I talked to her yesterday,” I reply, undoing my braid and combing it out with my fingers. “She’s been named the King’s Voice.”

When my mother doesn’t immediately reply, I look up. Her expression tells me all I need to know. “Oh, skies,” I say. “Did Shirene not tell you?”

“I’m sure she’s been very busy.”

Too busy to send one bird? I try to recover. “She did seem pretty tired and stressed,” I add. “I’m sorry you heard it from me, though, and not her.”

My mother picks up a comb from my nightstand and deftly moves her hands to restart my braid into a four-strand one that I can’t ever do on my own head. “She’ll come visit when she can,” is her reply. “I know she will.”

She’s tying off the braid at my neck when bells sound from the Glass Tower. My heart rate shoots up, and I count the tolling. Warriors summoned to the Tower. It’s not a call to arms.

“Get going, darling,” my mother says. I tug on my uniform, dressing completely in less than half a minute’s time. With a final tug on the belt that holds my throwing knives, I take off for the Tower.

I land with the others, greeting sleepy-eyed members of my cohort as we gather in front of the other warriors-elect. I spot Bel fly in, hastily stuffing a half-eaten meat bun in his mouth. He sees me notice and shakes his head, embarrassed. I wave it off with a smile before finding Vera at the edge of the room.

“Hey, Ro,” Vera says. “How’s your mother doing?”