“Was it someone close to you?” Kiva asked quietly.

A long exhalation before he answered, “Yes.”

Kiva could feel the tightness of his body, and she knew he wouldn’t be answering anything else. He’d already said more than she would have if their positions were reversed.

“Well, you can now add a few new scars to your list,” she said, infusing lightness into her voice as she smeared ballico sap over the raw skin. “You can sit up again.”

Jaren did so, swinging his legs over the metal bench. His face was closed, his gaze downcast, as if desperate to avoid eye contact after what he’d just admitted. He didn’t make a move for his tunic, and Kiva didn’t want him to think she was uncomfortable with his state of undress, so she said nothing other than, “Lucky last,” as she pointed to the cut on his head.

It was strange, doing this with him sitting upright. She realized that she should have kept him lying down for it, but she had no valid reason to make the request now other than that she felt odd standing so close to him.

“Has this wound caused you any discomfort?” Kiva asked as she cleaned away the tunnel dust. “Headaches, nausea, memory problems, sight issues?”

“The first two days were unpleasant, but the pain eased after that,” Jaren said. “Contrary to what you might think, I’m not an idiot. I would’ve come back if I was worried about anything.”

“Hmm,” Kiva said noncommittally.

“I’ve had a concussion before,” Jaren defended as she began removing the sutures. “Twice, actually. I know what to watch out for.”

Given their close proximity, Kiva found it less awkward to have him talking rather than just staring at her, so she prompted, “What happened?”

Jaren shifted slightly, and Kiva sent him a warning look. She was working dangerously close to his eye.

“The first was a riding accident. My horse spooked when I was out hunting, and I fell headfirst into a ditch.”

Kiva considered what he’d inadvertently given away. He must come from a wealthy family to have been on a hunting expedition. Usually the sport was reserved for those in or close to the upper social circles. Sometimes merchants and scholars were invited if they had ties to the aristocracy, but only the most successful ones. If Jaren came from a high-standing family, it made sense that they’d be unwilling to visit him in Zalindov. They’d likely disowned him the moment of his sentencing.

“And the second time?” she asked.

“I was teaching my brother how to climb trees, and I slipped.” He winced. “Not my finest moment.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah. He’s around Tipp’s age. A bit of a surprise for my mother.” He paused, then added, “I have a sister, too, but she’s older.”

“So you’re the middle child,” Kiva observed. “That explains a lot.”