Something curled in the back of Fie’s skull, like she hunted a word she’d forgot. She frowned.

“I think Mother would have liked you,” Jasimir said.

Fie’s frown went taut. “Cousin, I don’t think her road and mine ever could have crossed unless she caught the plague.”

His face fell a little. “I … I suppose that’s true.”

Fie stepped back, looking about the hall. More portraits hung on the walls: simple, familiar, lavish, stern. Dynasties of Hawks. Most, oddly, had a cat somewhere in the painting—a ball of striped fur on a background balcony, a shadow on a wall, a pair of eyes in the grass. A small tabby sat betwixt Draga and Jasindra, the picture of fluffy disdain. “Why the cats?”

“Legend says a Markahn helped Ambra tame the first tiger she rode to war. Cats are something like a patron of the clan.” Jasimir grimaced. “There’s a reason Rhusana wanted to pay you with a stray tabby for taking two dead Markahns.”

“Let me guess,” Fie drawled. “Same reason she drags that tiger pelt by the tail.” Jasimir nodded. “Is that why you saved Barf?”

“I saved her because I could.” Jasimir pursed his lips. “I keep thinking about that Crane arbiter, the one who almost let Barf out. How do you get squeamish over burning a cat to death when you’re there to do worse to people?”

“You know how.”

Jasimir sighed. “You think the people are less than animals.” Silence waxed, then waned. “I swore an oath. I don’t care if I have to personally beg every Hawk in the Marovar. The Crows will have guards.”

Pretty words, pretty words. She didn’t doubt Jasimir, not after the last week, but she had precious little faith in the mercy of Hawks.

“Aye,” she lied.

“Something’s bothering Aunt Draga. She’s not … like this.” Jasimir picked at the sleeve of his sleeping robe. “I’ll make my case again after we’ve got your family back.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” Fie couldn’t help but ask. Somewhere out in the night, Crows were supposed to be celebrating their moon. And that meant that somewhere out there, Oleanders were preparing to ride.

“Then I’ll make it again, to as many Hawks as it takes, as many times as it takes,” Jasimir said. “I swore an oath.”

How long would the Crows have to wait?

The prince’s own words echoed from the ravine, more than a week past. How much more will you let them take from you?

She’d get her kin back. She’d get Tavin back. She’d stop the queen. And someday—someday she might fall asleep feeling safe again.

For tonight, it had to be enough.