“So I’ve heard.” Raisa stopped a foot away and stood looking up at him, her fists on her hips. “How could you leave like that—without speaking to me?”

Han didn’t want to answer that question, so he asked one of his own. “Did you really come out here by yourself?”

“You wouldn’t come to me, so I came to you,” Raisa said, her green eyes narrowed, her voice low and fierce. “We need to talk.” Reaching up, she took hold of his jacket front, pulling his head down to hers. She kissed him, long and slow, pressing up into him.

Han struggled not to react, but his weary body betrayed him. His arms went around her, and he kissed her back, intent on getting as much of her as he possibly could. It didn’t matter how far away he fled—he would never—could never—forget this.

Finally she pulled back, but kept hold of his lapels, like he might try to get away.

“So,” Han said, his tongue thick in his mouth, his breathing ragged and quick. “You’re walking out on Micah already? Most at least wait until they go to temple.” He paused, and when she said nothing, added, “When’s the big day?” A terrible possibility struck him. “You’re not already married.”

“You’re a fool if you think I’d ever marry Micah Bayar,” Raisa said, sounding a little breathless herself.

“Look,” Han said. “I overheard him tell his mother that he asked you to marry him and you agreed.” He tilted his head. “You’re saying that’s not true?”

“Well,” Raisa allowed. “That part is true.”

“Plus he was wearing your ring,” Han said. “And you were wearing his.”

Raisa let go his coat and held up her hand, inches from Han’s nose. The gold wolf ring was back on her forefinger, next to the pearl-and-moonstone ring Dancer had made, that Han had given her for her coronation. The Bayar ring was missing.

“Sorry,” Han said, after a moment. “I’m a little lost here. Are you saying that you and Micah are on the outs now?”

Raisa sighed. “Micah came to me at Fellsmarch Castle while we were penned up in there. He told me that you tried to murder his father on Gray Lady and that Bayar killed you.”

Han’s mind had ranged far ahead, but now it stumbled, then backtracked. “Micah told you I was dead? And you believed him?”

Raisa nodded, blinking back tears. “At the time, remember, you were wanted on suspicion of murder. I could see them taking advantage of that to get you out of the way.”

Han recalled what Micah had told the Wizard Council—that Han was dead—before he’d made his surprise appearance. And Magret Gray’s reaction when he’d appeared in Raisa’s bedchamber—calling him a demon spirit.