Bri was so exhausted from the trek, from the fight, from the many years of little sleep, the world had begun to tilt on its axis. Riding a horse probably wasn’t a good idea.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, rolling from her side to her back until her head rested on Lina’s ample thigh.

Lina smiled down at her, serene, more beautiful than any painting. No sculptor or artist would ever be able to capture her perfectly. Perhaps they could capture the gorgeous curve of her lips, the dimples of her rounded cheeks, her long, thick lashes, and the ring of deep bronze in her eyes when the sun caught them in just the right light. But this spark in Bri’s chest, this tiny flash of hope, this desperate yearning that flamed every time Lina whispered her name, that would never be replicated.

How could Lina be so fierce one moment and so calm the next? Her capacity to balance all of the things—the ones Bri floundered to contain—was more impressive than any fighting skill or royal prowess. Bri had always felt like one singular note, and Lina was a whole chorus.

“Not long,” Lina whispered. “A few hours. We’re probably nearing the border soon.”

Bri lifted her arm and stroked the tasseled edges of Lina’s coat sleeve, rubbing the delicate fabric between her thumb and forefinger. “The first time you’ve been in the Northern Court in how many years?”

“Gods, over a decade,” she murmured. “It wasn’t long after the Siege of Yexshire that my mother demanded I stay in Swifthill.”

“Swifthill seems like a good place to grow up, though,” Bri said. “Children playing in the fountains, eating sweets from the markets.”

“It was,” Lina said. “Until I grew up enough to want more than what lay within the sandstone walls. When I have children, they’ll see every corner of Okrith. They’ll never have to wonder what lies beyond the horizon.” Her voice grew softer as her fingers slowed in Bri’s hair. “They’ll never have to wonder if they’re loved because I’ll tell them every day.”

Those words tugged at Bri’s aching heart. “My mother wasn’t one for words of love either,” she murmured, rubbing her hand up Lina’s forearm.

“I forget sometimes that our mothers were once friends.” Lina’s braids swayed, the light clink of the gilded coils punctuating each rock of the carriage. “Do you think you’ll ever visit her again?”

“I don’t know.” Bri sighed. “Are you going to tell me I should be the bigger person? That I should set aside our differences in case I never have another chance?”

“No.” Lina’s lips curved down, and her stroking fingers paused. “Close your eyes.”

Bri furrowed her brow. “What?”

Lina’s laugh made Bri’s head wobble. “Just do it.”