Why couldn’t it turn cold? The cold kiss of autumn would remind Karn and his officers that they were guesting in a country that would grow inhospitable—even dangerous—as winter came on.

Raisa left the temple, threading her way through the rooftop garden to the edge of the terrace, where she could look down on the city.

If she squinted her eyes she could almost ignore the cook fires burning amid the rubble of Southbridge, the drab-clad soldiers on every street corner, clustering together for defense against the things that came out of the dark. Lifting her gaze, she looked beyond the city, to the wall of mountains surrounding the Vale. Lightning flickered amid the Spirits, and the wind freshened, bringing with it the scent of rain and dust.

Her fever had departed as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind a profound weariness. But whether it was physical, emotional, or some combination of the two—she had no idea.

A breeze off Hanalea kissed her face, lifting her sweaty hair from her neck. The weather had continued hot, as if the invaders had brought the steamy southern weather with them.

“Raisa.”

Raisa spun around, her fingers closing on the dagger she carried with her everywhere.

He stood in the doorway to the garden, at the top of the main staircase.

“What are you doing here?”

“You know I want to talk to you,” Micah said. “And yet you’ve rebuffed me every single time I’ve tried to approach.” He stood partly in shadow so she couldn’t see his face.

“You’ve had plenty of opportunity to talk to me. We’re together all day long.”

“In meetings,” Micah said, dismissing meetings with a flick of his fingers.

“All of my time is taken up by meetings,” Raisa said. “Or resolving disputes about disbursement of supplies. Or serving time on the walls. Sometimes, even sleeping.”

“What about now?” Micah said, glancing around the garden for eavesdroppers. “Let’s talk now.”

Raisa took a deep breath. “Micah, I’m trying to be diplomatic, considering our situation, but I really don’t want to talk to you.” She turned back toward the temple, but realized she couldn’t leave through the tunnel with Micah standing there.

“This is about issues critical to the survival of the queendom,” Micah said to her back. “Some critical to your survival.”

Raisa spun around and folded her arms, gripping her elbows to either side. “I’m listening.”

Micah took a step toward her. “What’s wrong with you?” he said. “What have I done? Why are you angry with me?”

“What makes you…?” Raisa’s voice trailed off. She could see there was no use in denying it. She didn’t want to deny it.

“All right, fine,” she said, dropping onto a stone bench. “I am angry with you.” She felt more in control now than when Micah had first arrived with the news of Han’s death.