“Why did you put her in the path of the Order without evidence?” I demand, turning to face her.

“Because there’s something off about her.”

“Something off?” I ask, incredulous. “Could it be that you don’t like when anyone encroaches on our friend group? Thane bailed on us, Natalie. And Lily’s going to be on lockdown with the Order. We have a few vacancies at the moment, so why not Anora?”

“Just because you can’t look past a pretty face doesn’t mean she’s not hiding something, Shy. Besides, you’re just mad because you’re not the only one keeping tabs on her. Yeah, I know where you were last night—watching her.”

“You followed me?” I expect a lot of things from Natalie: disdain, disappointment, judgment, but not this. I grit my teeth together and narrow my eyes. “So why not tell Elite Cain I didn’t make it to patrol? Why not jump in while I was being attacked by hellhounds?”

“Because I don’t want you on probation like Jacobi. And you know how to handle yourself in a fight better than anyone. Besides, you aren’t my target. Anora is.”

“Anora doesn’t have to have a reason to be your target, Nat, and until she starts causing trouble, she isn’t your concern.”

“Not according to Elite Cain’s orders.”

“Why do you have to be so damned self-righteous?”

I leave her alone in the hallway.

In the infirmary, I sit on a metal table while a medic uses a solution in a clear bottle to clean my wounds, applies a smelly claylike substance to each mark, and then bandages my arm. I’m not there long when my father strides through the curtains. I glance at him and then focus intently on my arm.

“I thought those curtains were there for privacy.”

“Do you know the danger in what you’re doing?” he asks.

“Infection?”

My father maintains his cold, emotionless façade. “Does your mother know you didn’t go on patrol?”

“I wasn’t where I was supposed to be last night,” I correct. “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t doing my job.”

“Part of doing your job is obeying orders.”

“Even when I disagree with them?” I’m aware this conversation has become something very different than I intend.

“You are a knight-in-training. You don’t get to have an opinion.”

“You sure? Because I actually have a lot of them.”

My father takes a step closer and leans in, inches from my face. I want to move away, but I also know it’s important to hold my ground, especially since what I’ve been saying sounds like treason.

“You might think you’re standing up for something grand, but when you do it wrong, it’s not you who will suffer for your actions, it’s the people you love. Do you understand?”