Odrin’s authoritative knock came at her door and her heart stopped.

She looked up from the book, heart in her throat.

Odrin eased the door open and slid inside. The man gave an apologetic smile as he closed the door behind him.

“I can’t imagine this is easy for you,” he offered by way of greeting.

Amaris shrugged. “I wouldn’t say life has been easy, as a whole.”

Her statement was neither wholly true nor entirely false. She imagined the other children at Farleigh would shake with fury to hear her call her cushioned life anything but easy.

“Are they going to kick me out?” Amaris asked. She didn’t know how it was possible, but the question held no emotion. Her future would not change whether she worried, pleaded, or fretted. What would be, would be.

Odrin neither reassured nor confirmed her fear. He did his best to keep his message free of feeling, even if there were underlying notes of sympathy in his words.

“They want to hear from you directly, but we knew as much. You’ll need to plead your case. You’ll need to convince them that you deserve to be here.”

“Is it the leader? Or a council? Or…what is your government here?”

He smiled sadly. “Perhaps I should have prepared you more for what you should expect—no, I definitely should have prepared you. I am sorry for that. This is no kingdom, girl. The reevers are as much of an orphanage as your shoddy home. We don’t have a true hierarchy here, though Samael is as close to a leader as we have, as he’s been here the longest. He issues our dispatches, and we trust his judgment.” Odrin straightened before opening the door and making a sweeping gesture. “I’m to take you to meet with them. Just…be yourself. You convinced me, didn’t you?”

It was a rather poor attempt at encouragement.

“Should I tie up my hair?” she asked, feeling stupid the moment the question parted her lips. It seemed a rather feminine worry for a fortress that demonized her femininity.

He responded, “Many of the men have uncut hair. They wear it tied back or unbound. Tying it is an issue of function, which you’ll need to do if you spar. For now, your hair is of little concern, though, your hair, your brows, your lashes—they are silver. That may be a point of curiosity, but there isn’t much you can do about that.”

She tried to smile, as she knew Odrin was attempting to be comforting. He wasn’t very good at it. She abandoned the book, ready to see what shape her fate was to take.

“I guess whatever’s waiting for me in the dining room can’t be too much worse than what’s waiting for us in the woods.”

“We can hope.”