“I don’t know,” she admitted, cursing in her head. She knew it was best to finish the glamour and be done with it, but her wretched tongue kept wagging anyway. “My job’s to cut throats, so what does it matter? I’ll get all right by it. Someday.”

He started to answer, just as her fingers trailed to that wretched distracting freckle by the corner of his mouth. They both froze a breath too long.

“I think I should teach you to use a sword,” Tavin blurted.

Fie jerked her hand away before it made a fool of her. “What?”

“Everyone needs a hobby.” He rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to scrape together another jest. “And an appalling number of Saborians seem to have picked ‘murdering Crows’ for theirs.” Tavin pointed to Pa’s broken sword. “I guarantee fewer people would try to stiff you on viatik if they thought you could use that for more than mercy.”

“You’ve seen how your kind feel about Crows carrying swords. How do you reckon the Hawks’ll like Crows knowing how to use them?”

“I’m not teaching all the Crows, I’m teaching you. And if we get Jas on the throne, the Hawks will be so busy escorting your people around that they might see the wisdom of teaching them, too.”

She pursed her lips. He could have offered this anytime in the last fortnight. Anytime before now. He hadn’t. This had naught to do with hobbies. “You don’t think we can outrun the Vultures?”

Tavin looked to the prince, guilt flashing through his face. Jasimir was still on the far side of the pond. “I should know better than to try slipping anything past you. I don’t know when we’ll cross them again. But it’s still a long way to the Marovar, with or without roads. And after today…” He faltered. “I just—I want you to be able to protect yourself.”

And the pieces fell together for Fie. This wasn’t wholly about the Vultures either. It was also about the Sparrow crooning death threats, and it was about the crowd who’d cheered him on. “I’m carrying enough Phoenix teeth to burn us a road clear to the Marovar and back. You know why I let that scummer yell as he pleased?” she asked. Tavin shook his head. “Because he wanted an excuse to do worse. That’s the game, get it? They’ve naught to lose by playing with us. And there’s no way for us to win.”

“So you let them talk and cut your losses.” He shook his head again. “That’s … You shouldn’t have to live like that.”