Because I would miss you. Because I am not ready to let you go.

“Because I think you are giving up too easily,” I said.

“A month,” she repeated. “That’s a terrible idea for me.”

“I want you to hire me as your Middling maid for that month. I want you to take me into the High quarter. Maybe I’m not magic, but I can be useful. I have a skill you don’t, and even if you are right—that everything I remember about the past has a reasonable explanation—those memories might help you. I might remember more. You said yourself that there is no magic in the Ward. It’s all beyond the wall, and concentrated in the High quarter. So take me there, and I’ll help you find what you need, like we agreed before.”

“And then what?”

“You go home with your leverage. Just as you planned.”

She tapped a finger against her lips, considering. “And you?”

“I will come home, too.”

“Home,” she repeated.

“Here,” I said.

She made a face. “So you want … a month’s vacation in the High quarter.”

“An adventure,” I reminded her.

“And then you’ll come right back here and bake for your mistress and kiss that very tall man you love.” She sounded mocking. “Like nothing ever happened, no matter what happens.”

“It’s just a month,” I said defensively, unsure of what else to say. “This is what I want.”

“Why do you want this?”

The answer was too big and frightening to explain, even to myself. “I just do.”

“Well,” she said, “I do like giving women what they want.”

“Is that a yes?”

She let out a sigh through her teeth. “Yes, that’s a yes. Gods help me.”

“Thank you,” I said, and she laughed. “So prim,” she said, “for someone so demanding. Now. I’ll have that back.” She reached for the letter.

I pulled it away. “It’s mine now.”

“Oh no.” She wagged a finger at me. “No, no, no.”

“You said you wouldn’t send the letter anyway. And I don’t understand its language. You should have no problem giving it to me.”

She scrunched up her brow. “Why do you want a letter you can’t read?”

Because it’s written in your hand, I wanted to say. Because it will be a piece of you I can keep when you eventually do leave. “Because you were rude to me, and I claim it as payment.”

“Rude?” She grimaced. “I was horrible.”

“The worst.”

“I was the worst!”

“Like a nasty, cold queen.”

“King, dear Nirrim.”

“I’m not going to forgive you.”

She caught my empty hand. “Please.” She was serious now. “Forgive me. I was angry.”