Then he looked away to whisper something in her ear. The female’s eyes closed, her lips parting.

My heart splintered. I hadn’t known it was still whole enough to be harmed in such a way. I wasn’t grateful to be made aware that it was. I didn’t push back through the crowds of the tavern.

I warped my way outside and found myself standing before a familiar white door with blue trim.

My breaths came fast. Far too fast. I tried to slow them.

I shouldn’t have warped here. There was no need to visit Olivianna now that I’d discovered where Scythe was…

Busy seducing another female. One with claws and fur.

I couldn’t compete with that. I never wanted to compete with anything. I supposed this was my comeuppance for trying to take a little more of what I couldn’t keep. As my father used to say, the stars would never fail to throw blades to the ground for the treacherous to eventually stumble upon.

I’d had one more night.

I’d made sure he was okay. There was no reason to linger outside of Olivianna’s shop door, and there was certainly no reason to linger in this war-wounded city for another moment.

The door cracked open far enough to reveal Olivianna in a floor-length blue robe. “Aster?” she asked, a glass of wine in hand. “Oh, I suppose you’re finally here for the gowns.”

She threw open the door and traipsed into her shop, leaving me to follow. “I’d ask if you want some wine, but I think that would be redundant.”

Remembering she had a young son, I was careful to close the door quietly behind me, for he might have been asleep upstairs given the hour.

Dresses and shirts and even some pants lined one wall, waiting upon hangers. Some were complete, and others seemed to await final touches. Rolls and mountains of fabric dotted the space I’d stumbled into bleeding and disorientated just a few days ago.

I crossed to the chaise I’d laid upon, unsure what else to do when Olivianna returned with another glass of wine. “Here,” she said, and I took it as she eyed me up and down. “You’re looking better, but I do hope you haven’t been wearing that soiled dress since you arrived.”

“No,” I said, sipping the wine and taking a seat when she gestured for me to. “I’ve been wearing Scythe’s tunics.”

“We can’t have that, either.” She set her glass on the table and twirled back out of the shop.

A moment later, she returned, gowns in hand and blowing a ringlet from her cheek that had escaped her clipped updo. “I’d be offended that you hadn’t thought to visit me again until now, but I suppose you and Scythe have had some ah…” Her nose scrunched. “Catching up to do.”