But Amon stepped onto the stone walk that led to the Temple School, turning off to the entrance at the far right. In front of the heavy wooden door, he paused long enough to take a swipe at his hair, then raised the knocker and let it fall with a clatter.

Raisa had remained on the main walk, off at an angle, so she couldn’t see who came to the door. But Amon bowed at the waist and extended the flowers. Then he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

For a long moment Raisa stood frozen on the walk, unsure what to do next. The broad porch was crowded with dedicates and students, so she couldn’t very well go up and listen at the door. But perhaps if she circled around…

Fortunately, the ground floor was lined with tall windows and glass doors, spilling light into every room. Raisa crept along the perimeter of the building, between the shrubbery and the foundation, peering into every window. Though some were probably at dinner, Raisa saw dedicates and students reading, relaxing, doing stitchery, painting, playing instruments, and the like.

This is what everyone had intended for me, Raisa thought, fingering her dun-colored uniform tunic.

In the rear was a parlor, a cheerful fire in the fireplace and trays of cookies and sandwiches set out on tables. Amon was there, sitting in a chair by the fireplace, his back very straight, his hands on his knees. Across from him sat a girl in temple dress, dark-skinned and pretty, with masses of long curly hair—a Southern Islander. She clutched the nosegay in one hand, and every so often she raised it to her nose and took a sniff.

Two other couples shared the room, and a rosy-faced dedicate sat in a far corner, keeping an eye on the young lovers.

Amon’s face was in profile, but Raisa could see the girl’s shy smile and her large dark eyes, and hear the murmur of their conversation.

Any fool could see that the girl was in love with Amon Byrne.

Raisa’s eyes burned with hot tears. Was this possible? Honest, straightforward Amon Byrne was…cheating on her? She tried to ignore the voice in her head that said it wasn’t cheating if there hadn’t been a relationship to begin with.

You don’t lie to your friends, Raisa said to herself defensively. He’d gone out of his way to hide this from her.

And then, as if in a bad dream that turns into a nightmare, she saw Amon stiffen, squaring his shoulders under the blue wool. He slowly turned his head so that he was looking right at Raisa. For a long moment she was petrified, unable to move, and they stared at each other. Then, cheeks flaming, she dropped below the windowsill and scrambled backward like a crab, out of the shrubbery.