I look around the room, realizing for the first time that we're in Raith's quarters. I've never been here before. It's sparse, utilitarian, with few personal touches beyond a small table with supplies for cleaning his blade, a few weathered books stacked neatly on a bedside table, and a faded tapestry hanging on one wall. The tapestry catches my eye—a scene of mountains and forests in shades of red and gold. It looks old, and somehow out of place in the otherwise austere room.

Most different of all is the brick making up the water. Instead of the cool blues of my quarters in the water tower, his are dark gray with glowing veins of orange and red at the seams. The whole place smells faintly of smoke, reminding me of camping trips I used to take with my brothers back in Saltcrest.

"Why am I here?" I ask. "Why not the healer's?"

Raith's jaw tightens. "After what happened with the siphon, I didn't trust anyone else to watch over you. And we couldn't exactly explain why you're in your current condition, could we?"

The memory of the siphon sends a shudder through me. The way it had taken Raith's form so perfectly, how it had known exactly where to find me. How it had spoken of using me as bait.

"Voss," I murmur. "He saved us, but then he just... left."

"He did," Raith agrees, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp. "I've heard the Empire Council is trying to remove him as Rector."

There's something he's not saying, questions he's holding back. I can sense it in the tension of his shoulders, the careful way he's watching me.

The door opens and Mireen slips into the room, carrying a tray with steaming bowls. Her eyes widen when she sees me awake, her face breaking into a radiant smile that makes my chest ache with affection. Her copper-red hair is braided and pulled back and her blue eyes threaten to water at the sight of me.

"Nessa!" She rushes to the bedside, nearly spilling the soup in her haste. "Thank the gods! We've been so worried."

“Hold—” Raith says, lifting his palm and stopping her. “Password?”

Mireen gives him an annoyed look, but answers. “Fish slap.”

Raith shifts sideways, letting her move to my beside.

“Can’t be too careful,” she says with a shrug. “How are you?”

I stare up at her, confusion furrowing my brow. "Raith… told you? And you said ‘we’. Did he tell Beck and Ambrose, too?"

"We didn't give him a choice,” Mireen confirms. “Beck and Ambrose are outside keeping watch," she explains, setting down the tray. "We've been taking shifts with Raith. Making sure no one suspicious gets too close." She brushes a strand of hair from my face with a gentleness that seems at odds with her usual boisterous nature. "Even Bastian comes by every so often, though Raith won't let him in."