“It’s been years since I’ve been back at court, and I adore it, truly,” she told him. “But I miss home, too. Back then, I didn’t even know how to say my whole name. I could only get out Durre, so that’s what everybody called me.” She paused. “Nobody calls me that anymore.”

She hadn’t told anyone that before, but there was an easy comfort in talking to a complete stranger. She could be whoever she wanted to be.

She dreamed about and missed the fields, the women, the rivers, the crops, the heat, the sunlight, the golden sheen of it all, the stories, the stars.

Sometimes, Durkhanai ached for that simple life, away from court.

“It’s horrid because I remember then, I would miss my grandparents and the mountains, and now I’m missing my aunts and the valley,” she said. “Always missing something.”

Asfandyar didn’t say anything, and they continued walking. From here, the mountain was mud brown, but the base was grey-blue where the stones met the river, like the mountain’s toes had gone numb.

“Rule number two, if you want to be a successful spy,” Asfandyar said, breaking the silence. “Don’t give anyone information for free.”

She stopped walking, her lips turning down into a frown. She had slipped. Again.

“You’ve tricked me,” she said stupidly. She hated to be made a fool of. She really was going to strangle him.

His smile didn’t waver, but it was one of kindness, not malice. He shook his head.

“I haven’t,” he told her. “For in exchange for your anecdote, I shall share one of mine. When I was a boy, I didn’t love the mountains, either. I would visit my mother’s tribe in Dunas, where there are no mountains at all. We lived right by the water, and the vast ocean’s beauty is incomparable, I believe. There, the horizon stretched for centuries and at night, there were more stars than I’ve ever seen here, shimmering in an infinite sky.

“I don’t think there is anything more beautiful than the stars and the stories they hold. My mother would craft tales from the constellations; we’d lie on the beach for hours, staring at stars.”

Durkhanai made a soft sound. She didn’t know what to say. They walked in silence for a bit longer.

“You didn’t have to, you know,” she finally said.

“I know,” he replied. The devilish glint returned to his eyes. “But perhaps I enjoy your company, as well.”