The bunk was too warm because, at some point after she’d fallen asleep, Kem had crawled in with her, as he used to do as a little boy, when there was a thunderstorm. He was sprawled on his stomach, fast asleep, taking up more than his share of space. His presence eased her bruised heart. She’d told him, at long last, and he’d said nothing, no words to sympathize or to condemn, but he hadn’t left. It was a start.

She eased herself over him, found a pot to piss in and water to splash on her face. After lacing up her boots and pulling on her coat, she went outside, into the empty courtyard. The Sun Chaser had been rolled into the carriage house, and its harness folded away.

The sky was cloudy, and the wind smelled of rain incoming. It was a little warmer than yesterday. The presence of the Pall brushed against her senses. The viper stirred, but it was still sluggish and sated from its feast last night.

Last night.

He was gone.

Elen set her jaw and straightened her shoulders against the weight of pain. But she didn’t cry. Her tears were gone too. Tears wouldn’t bring him back, so what use were they?

Yet thinking of him hurt. His mischief smile. The random statements, now easy to recognize as the thoughts of a person who didn’t quite understand the human world. The delightful conversations. The pressure of his sweet lips on her lonely palm.

She knew better than to think that the grief would soften. It might dull in time, as things did that were worn and handled, over and over again. As awful as it was to have lost Ao, at least she’d had Ao for so many good years. Her mistake had been in starting to believe she could fall in love with a person who didn’t truly exist in this world.

It hurt so much. Yet she couldn’t regret knowing him, just as she couldn’t regret a field of spring wildflowers radiant beneath the sun. It was better to have witnessed beauty, even knowing it would not last.

“Deputy Courier!” Luviara stood at the door into the tower. Her eyes were shadowed, as if she hadn’t slept.

“Your Worthiness.”

The theurgist started down the ramp, leaning on her cane. Seeing how stiffly the other woman moved, Elen hurried over to meet her where the ramp met the courtyard.

“You knew about the griffin scout,” said the interlocutor, without preamble.

“I did.”

“Did the prince give a reason he chose not to trust me with the news of this shocking murder?”

“He did not speak of the matter to me.”

“Was he behind it?”

“Behind the murder? Why would he kill his own griffin scout?”