I grabbed the dress with my free hand, and stuffed it back into the bag. “It smells of the soap I wash it with, fool!” I cried, furious. I glared at him, my face flaming. “Don’t go through my things! Bring the whole bag now, since you can’t control yourself. It’ll give you a useful occupation. And stop tormenting me.”

“I didn’t think I was tormenting you, handmaid,” he murmured, as we walked on. He carried my bag over his shoulder. “I thought I was amusing you. I had hoped you enjoyed my company. I’m sorry.”

I walked on, silent. I had too many things on my mind and in my heart I wished he was not here. And I was glad he was.

“Elsha, I know something troubles you,” he said gently, his sleeve brushing mine as he stumbled on a rock. We were climbing higher, up into the mountains east of the town, away from the divining ground. “I know you were leaving. It’s not because of me, is it?”

I stopped walking, and looked at him. His face was earnest, and there were tiny droplets of sweat on his brow and along the dark brown hair on his upper lip. His eyes were golden-green in the daylight, his lashes long and golden-brown. His eyes were full of light. I must have looked confused, because he added, blushing: “They know we drank wine together, last night. My uncle owns the house you stay in. They said my conduct was unacceptable, because I took you wine in one of our cups.”

“And the Firelord took me food on one of your plates,” I said, tearing my eyes from his. “If he can break laws, so can you.”

“But he didn’t do it openly. We have to be careful, Elsha.”

“Why? We do no wrong.”

“You’re not leaving because of me, then?”

“No. It’s nothing to do with you.”

“So, you are leaving?”

“Stop it, Alejandro!” I started walking again, quickly, and Kallai clutched harder on my fist, disturbed, sensing what I felt.

“Stop what, handmaid? Caring? Being interested? I’d have thought you needed a friend, needed someone to talk with face-to-face, who honoured you. You’re in between two worlds, aren’t you? You live with the Chosen, yet you’re Quelled. Life must be hellish lonely for you at times. I don’t blame you for wanting to go home. Even if home is slavery.”

“You don’t know anything. Not the first thing about me. So stop making judgements. I’m not so lonely that I want to go back to the mine, and I wouldn’t waste my spit on your laws. Stop plaguing me. You’re like a flea in my sleeping furs.”