“Every day,” he sighed. “Mother made sure I never ran out of scrolls to read or strategy games to work through. She said a sharp mind did more on the throne than a sharp sword. But Father would have preferred me to be”—he blinked through the campfire, where Tavin stretched on a sleeping mat—“someone different.”

“You know it’s his job to die for you.” The second the words flew out, Fie silently cursed herself. Tavin scarce needed her to fight his quarrels.

“It’s his job to keep me alive,” Jasimir corrected, stiff. “Just like it’s my job to keep the country alive. Mother raised us both to know our duty.”

“Oh aye, he’s supposed to take an arrow for you, and you’re supposed to suffer a crown for him. It all evens out.”

The jibe sailed clear over the prince’s head. “Exactly. Besides, when he’s not on duty, he gets to do whatever he wants. And unlike me, he can go right back to doing that once we return to Dumosa.”

“And if he doesn’t want that?” Fie’s writing stick stalled in the dirt. “To go back?”

The prince let out a baffled laugh. “As opposed to—to this? Cowering in bushes, washing in puddles, and eating scraps? He’s a Hawk. He has no business living like a—”

He cut himself off, but not near soon enough.

A log popped in the campfire, spewing up sparks in the silence.

“Like what?” Fie asked, just to make him say it out loud. Her hands shook.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Like a Crow?” She threw the stick down across the half-scrawled letter. “You palace boys, you’re too good for this life, aye? You don’t deserve to be treated like me.”

Jasimir held up his hands, voice rising. “I don’t know! There has to be some reason why the Covenant lets this happen to you—”

“You mean your pa,” Fie spat. “There has to be a reason your pa lets this happen.”

Tavin rolled over, yawning, and Fie’s gut lurched. She scuffed a foot through her letters swift as she could.

“What…” Tavin sat up. “Why’re both of you awake?”

“It’s naught,” Fie answered, at the same time Prince Jasimir said, “I was teaching her to read.”

Fie’s very skin crawled with fury and humiliation. “Was not.”

Prince Jasimir stared. “What is the matter with you? We’ve been at it for five days now.”

“Shut up,” Fie hissed, desperate. Maybe if Tavin went back to sleep, he’d forget he saw anything.

You reckon he’ll take you away and polish you up so much that the gentry forget what you came from? Hangdog sneered, a shadow on a creek bank long gone.

“You ungrateful little—”

“Jas.” Tavin cut the prince off. “Be quiet.”

Jasimir drew himself up, looking wholly betrayed. “Are you—”