“I borrowed it. I must return it.” What would Raven say? I remembered the sting of her metal brush striking my cheek. But it had been so long since she had needed to correct me, and I worked so hard for her and our cause, that it wasn’t her punishment I dreaded. It was her disappointment. “I already paid my tithe.” Gauze wrapped my inner arm just below my elbow, where a needle had slid in and drained the first vial of blood.

“You can pay in other ways,” said the soldier in the cell with me, his hand tight on my shoulder. He was older than me, the age of a man with children. He was thick with muscle, his beard neatly trimmed and shining in the light cast by the lantern in the hallway. I could smell the oil of his beard. I imagined him stroking it in the morning, trimming it just so, making his appearance neat.

It would rasp against my face. Maybe later, when he was done, my cheek would bear a rash.

But the skin would heal, I thought. And the kind of tithe he was imagining was no more than what any woman in the Ward might have to pay.

I would be all right, I told myself.

My strong girl. My brave one.

“Pardon me,” said a voice that was neither soldier’s, “but my cell is musty. It could use a good scrubbing. Perhaps one of you could see to that while the other fetches me a decent vintage of wine?”

The soldier’s grip on my shoulder slackened in surprise. The soldier in the hallway turned. Beyond him I could see a shadow behind the bars of the cell across from mine.

“I am not fussy,” the shadow said. “As long as the wine has aged at least ten years I won’t complain. Oh, and what if you brought me some of those ice cherries? Such a delicacy.”

“Mind your manners, thief,” said the guard in the hall.

“Stay out of what doesn’t concern you.” The bearded soldier’s grip on me doubled. The heat of his hand came through the thin fabric of my shirt.

“I spy with my little eye something gold,” said the shadow, “upon someone’s finger. Not every country has that custom, to be sure, but here I would call that a ring. I would say that here, such a ring means that one is married.”

The bearded guard made a strange sound in his throat.

“There are few things I pride myself on,” the shadow said. “But when someone makes an impression on me, no matter what kind, charming or repulsive, I never forget a face. I will remember you.”

“So what if you do,” said the bearded guard. “You’ll rot here a good long while.”

“Nooo. Check your roster of prisoners.”

There was a silence.