“I’m surprised it’s still standing,” I couldn’t help but admit. “Most homes this far inland were deserted long ago due to passing human squadrons stealing crops and weaponry.” I looked at the hillsides of the valley. “They would kill so many of us, even if we surrendered.”

Scythe’s skin had grown clammy, his fingers squeezing mine. “I cannot bear an opinion when I’ve done the same.”

“I suppose you have,” I said carefully, for there was no use acting like all he and his king had done was right. “But perhaps you’ve been a touch less murderous.”

That roused a huffed chuckle from him. “Murderous?”

I smiled up at him. “Am I wrong?”

He cupped me beneath the chin and lowered his head to mine. “I’ve never felt more murderous than I have these past few days.” He kissed me before I could respond, swift and thoroughly distracting me from our surroundings.

“Perhaps it’s not fae who dwell here anymore.” He straightened and looked back to what had once been his home so long ago. “And therefore, we should be going.”

But we took the dirt road leading to the nearby town lit up from the midday sun, prolonging our inevitable return to the towers.

“What was he like?” I asked. “Helvectus.”

“I assumed you’d met him?”

“Yes, but I did not know him well. Not in the way you did.” I swung our hands and grinned when his lips twitched. “There’s a portrait of him in the towers that I think you might like to see.”

“I’ve no need.” He was quiet for a minute, then he said, “He always read for two hours before bed, no matter what. When I asked him why, he would always say why not?” He slowed as the town became less of a blur, his voice low as we passed an abandoned field. “It would make me fucking incensed.”

“Until you began to read yourself,” I surmised.

In answer, he smiled at the ground. “In the months before he died, he began to drink a lot. I didn’t understand it then, but now I see it was the worry over what was happening and being unable to control it.”

I remembered how much less we had seen of him at the towers and how quiet he’d grown when we had. “Did you ever meet your grandfather?”

“No, but he was aware of my existence. He didn’t agree with my father’s secret life—which was what he’d called it—but although he didn’t understand, he never betrayed his son by telling anyone. Not even Rorn.”