Bri snickered.

“I love her, Bri. Maybe not in the right way all the time, but I love her. I know she’ll take care of me and . . . I’m scared.” Delta’s voice broke as she lifted her bottle to her lips.

“That’s not a good enough reason to hang on to someone,” Bri murmured.

“I know,” Delta whispered back. “And I’m sorry for it. I will miss you, though.”

“Don’t pine for me, it’s so unbecoming,” Bri taunted.

“It never would have worked between us.” Delta shook her head. “I think we were both just filling the nights.”

“Yes,” Bri said, her eyes sweeping the form of the warrior beside her. “I’ll miss you too. What we had . . . it wasn’t love, but it was something.”

“Yes.” Delta’s eyes dropped to Bri’s lips.

She leaned forward, her mouth meeting Bri’s in a soft, desperate kiss. Her lips felt so familiar, her scent, her taste. So many nights they’d spent together, taking their minds off their own sorrows. The feel of Delta’s warm skin pressed against Bri’s body flooded her veins with desire, but instead of leaning into Delta’s kiss, she pulled away.

“You should go get some rest,” Bri whispered, tucking the crumpled list in her pocket and standing. “The surgery will be fine.”

She gave Delta one last look. The warrior’s expression was hard, as if clenching her jaw might stanch out the tears Bri knew threatened to spill. She turned away, heading back down the stairs toward her room. She remembered their last night together at the Winter Solstice in Yexshire. If only she had known that moment between them would have been their last . . .

She swallowed, gripping her hand around the hilt of her amber dagger, and savored the comforting sensation of the cold stones beneath her palm. It didn’t matter either way, she told herself. There was only one person who’d ever truly loved her, and she was dead.

* * *

The quiet grated against Bri worse than an itchy woolen cloak. If she couldn’t find solace on the roof, she’d have to find it somewhere else, starting with the food tasters on Delta’s list. Her pulse strummed down to her fingertips, and her pointed ears tingled. She hated this feeling that nighttime brought to her body, the sense of wrongness putting her on high alert. It was time for a much-needed distraction.

Wiping a damp cloth over her face and swirling it around her neck, she sighed at herself in the mirror.

“Off to find some guard or cook to entertain you this evening?” Carys asked with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe.

“Perhaps.” Bri grinned, giving her a wink through the mirror. “Why?”

“You’re cleaning up.” Carys shrugged. “If you had a date with the wine cellar, you wouldn’t be trying to wash the stench off yourself.”

Bri huffed a laugh, shaking her head at her friend. “They don’t seem to mind.”

“Yes, you’re a gift to all womankind, Bri,” Carys taunted.