She studies me, reading everything I won’t admit aloud. One side of her mouth kicks up into a half grin. “I’ll bet it is.” Her grin grows as she adds, “He’s not exactly hard on the eyes. If I didn’t have a boyfriend already, I’d have no problem being ‘complicated’ with him, too.”

I ignore the last part of what she said—and the way she’s looking at me with laughter in her eyes—and say, “You have a boyfriend? Do I know him?”

She turns and pushes out of the water and up onto the ledge, reaching for her towel before answering, “You haven’t been introduced yet.”

I follow her out of the springs, wrapping my own towel around my dripping body. “You said the same thing about— wait.” I glance at her in surprise. “Is your boyfriend the guy who found you outside the library?”

A nostalgic smile settles on her face, but there’s a hint of something else in her eyes, too. Some kind of tightness, or anxiety. “That’s him. You’re good at joining the dots.”

My inner romantic is delighted to hear that she’s living the equivalent of her own happily-ever-after.

“Only … it’s a bit of a secret,” Arryn continues, explaining the worry I saw in her gaze. “With my position as head of security here, there’s a risk of people thinking our relationship is … inappropriate. That we might be compromised.”

That seems ridiculous to me. I met Arryn less than twenty-four hours ago, yet even I know how seriously she takes her role. There’s only one person I can think of who would compromise her. But she’s already denied that he was the one who found her as a breakout. Even so …

“Are you sure it’s not Kael?”

A startled laugh leaves her, the sound so authentic that I believe her when she says, “I can absolutely promise it’s not Kael.” She cocks her head to the side. “To be honest, given his obsession with you, I figured …” She trails off pointedly.

“‘Obsession’?” I repeat, snorting. “Oh, please.”

Arryn shrugs. “Okay, so ‘obsession’ might be a bit strong. But I’ve been here at the catacombs for nearly two years, and I mean it when I say he acts differently around you. I can’t put my finger on what it is. I don’t necessarily think it’s romantic, despite the kiss you apparently shared. But … it’s something.”

“Kael is a friend,” I say, ignoring her comment about the kiss. “A good friend. That’s what’s between us. Nothing more.”

She throws on a T-shirt over her swimsuit and pulls on a pair of jeans as she replies, “Whatever it is, it’s interesting.”

“What’s interesting,” I return, dropping my towel and tugging on my own clothes, “is you thinking he’s obsessed with me.”

“You can’t see it?”