When the house was filled with sounds of six men—and one boy—croaking at the top of their lungs, Marron closed the ledger. Before he left, he leaned toward Perry and said, “Leaders need to see clearly in darkness, Peregrine. You already do that.”

An hour later, Perry rose from the table and stretched his back. The house was quiet, but outside, the wind had picked up. He heard its low whistle and saw the embers in the hearth glowing, struggling to rekindle.

Looking up to the loft, he searched in vain for the sliver of light that had always been there. Cinder’s foot hung over the edge, twitching in sleep. Perry climbed over Hayden and Straggler, opened the door to Vale’s room, and stepped inside.

It was cooler and darker in there. With the floor in the other room packed, it made no sense to leave this one unused, but he couldn’t do it. He’d never been able to bear being within those walls. His mother had died there, and Mila, too. The room brought only one good memory to mind.

He lay down on the bed, letting out a slow breath, and stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling. He’d gotten used to fighting against the pull, but now he didn’t. Now he let himself remember the way Aria had felt in his arms just before the Marking Ceremony, smiling as she asked if he ever missed anything.

His answer hadn’t changed. The truth was that no matter how hard he tried not to, he did miss her. Always.

28

ARIA

Liv smoothed her hands over the ivory silk of her wedding dress. “What do you think?” she asked. Her hair hung in tangled golden waves around her shoulders, and her eyes were puffy with sleep. “Is it all right?”

They were in Liv’s room, a large chamber with a balcony like last night’s dining room, just a few doors down along the same corridor. A fire crackled in a huge stone hearth to one side, and thick fur rugs covered the wooden floorboards.

Aria sat on the plush bed, watching a stout woman pin the hem of Liv’s dress. She was tired and wished she and Liv had fallen asleep here, instead of on her bed. A crisp morning breeze drifted in from outside, carrying the scent of smoke—a reminder of last night’s storm.

“Much better than all right,” Aria answered. The simple lines of the dress complemented Liv’s long, muscular figure and enhanced her natural beauty. She looked stunning. And nervous. Since she’d put the dress on half an hour earlier, Liv hadn’t stopped drumming her fingers against her legs.

“Hold still or I’ll prick you.” The seamstress spoke with pins pressed between her lips, her voice muffled and irritated.

“That’s not much of a threat, Rena. You’ve pricked me ten times already.”