His smile didn’t falter, but the light in his eyes dimmed. “The attack. That’s why you’re in hiding.”

I bowed my head, not outright lying—Mother said I was a terrible liar—but allowing him to believe I was confirming his suspicions.

“I was so sorry to hear about that,” Tanhe went on. His gaze slipped toward Gerel as she walked partway up the stairs, watching the landings above for signs of anyone eavesdropping. This wasn’t the best conversation to have in the lobby, but moving it to his office would invite more questions. “Such a tragedy. And now you’ve come to Flamecrest, only for everything tonight . . .” He waved a hand toward the front door.

“It’s been a difficult decan for everyone,” I said. “And since you’ve cleverly found me out, I must ask your help in keeping my secret.”

“Of course. Guest privacy is a priority at the Fire Rose. As is ensuring our guests’ needs are anticipated and met.”

I smiled. “Then you already know what I’m going to ask.”

“You’ll have everything I can find by tomorrow afternoon.”

“The Fire Rose came very highly recommended. Clearly its reputation is well deserved.”

Tanhe bowed as Chenda and I followed Gerel up the stairs.

“Was that wise?” Gerel kept her voice low. “Can we trust him?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But we need help.”

“We should make a plan in case he betrays us,” Chenda said.

“We should.” Gerel glanced over her shoulder. “But first I’d like to hear what Mira thinks she’s going to do. You really think it’s possible to get into the summit as anyone other than yourself?”

“Now that he has Tirta, I can’t go as me. Imagine the chaos of two Hopebearers.” I hauled myself up the last few stairs. “No, I’ll go incognito and look for Nine. It will give me a different sort of freedom, not being myself.”

Gerel nodded slowly. “I hate this idea, just so you know. It’s stupid, going straight into the Red Hall when fake Mira was just kidnapped—again—and all her guards killed. But I can’t think of anything better right now, so I’ll help you.”

“That’s nice of you,” I said.

“I just mean that I’ve gotten used to having you around, so it would be a shame if something terrible happened because you’re bad at plans.” Gerel opened the suite door to where Ilina and Hristo were waiting for us to give them the news.

“YOUR BREATH STINKS.”

Zara, tactful as always, was standing in the washroom doorway, watching me as I peeled off my dusty, sweat-streaked clothes and dropped them into a laundry basket.

“I threw up.” I was tempted to start gnawing on a bar of soap; it smelled of honey and lala flowers.

Zara’s eyebrows arched. “You haven’t thrown up in years.”

I looked at her askance. “One: it’s weird that you know that. And two: Mother said it would ruin my teeth, and you know what it’s like living with her.”