More than ever, Fie wanted her hand in his. She wanted to stay by his side, plant herself betwixt him and the king if they ever saw that monster again. She wanted to burn down Surimir’s ugly palace and teach him the price of treating his people like toys.

Instead, she sat on the bench and watched the fire. “That was how you fooled the Vultures. They tried to burn you.”

He nodded. “The rest of the Hawks just saw me as a bastard and a healer close to Jas’s age, perfect for a bodyguard. Surimir knew I was … his. And perfect for Jas’s double.”

“What else did I miss?”

He let out a breath, thinking. “I … started the fire in the cave. The man in Gerbanyar—half of that was blood, half of that was fire. The campfire, back with the Oleanders.”

“You put it out.” No wonder Fie’s Phoenix teeth hadn’t stopped the flashburn fires outside Trikovoi. Phoenixes knew how to start fires; their bastards had to learn how to stop them.

A chill wind whistled over the tower, knocking sparks from the brazier. They blazed orange against the darkening sky, then winked out. Fie couldn’t stave off her question any longer.

“Are you angry with me?”

Tavin gave her an unreadable look. “With you?”

“You’ve been hiding all this most your life. It’s not like I asked before airing it out far and wide.”

He pulled his hand from the fire and turned to her, brow furrowing. “You saved me from a slow, agonizing death, Fie. Twelve hells, you made it look easy. Anger is the opposite of how I feel. If anything, I’m lucky you’re still voluntarily in the same fortress as I am.” Fie cocked her head, puzzled. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Everything that—that happened with us … happened while I was keeping this from you. That’s not right. You have every right to hate me.”

“Why?” Fie asked.

“I pretended I was someone I’m not,” Tavin said, the words falling almost too swift and heavy to catch. “I know what the king has done to you and yours, what he’s allowed to happen. I know what my father is.”

“And I know who you are.” Fie met his gaze, steady and unwavering. It felt just like the night they’d met, when she’d stared down his steel. This time, he held the point to his own throat.

“That doesn’t change anything for you?” He’d gone stock-still. “Anything at all?”

Fie pursed her lips, thinking. The fire crackled in the brazier, casting a rosier light over both of them as the sky steeped into indigo.

At last she said, “If I’d known I’d rutted a half prince, probably I would’ve bragged about it more.”