“I’ve never picked leaves from a plant before.”

Sighing deeply, then rubbing her face, Nev muttered, “Ledra people.” She rolled out of bed again, this time bringing a blanket with her as a cape. “Here,” she said, lighting both a lamp and her little stove, then dipping a small, bashed-up tin pot into her basin of water. “We’ll have some together.” Then she went to the windowsill and picked a few small leaves from the plant.

“Is that enough?” Lovisa asked. “For both of us?”

“More than enough,” said Nev. “People use ten times more than they need.”

“I follow the instructions on the packet.”

“The instructions are written by a merchant who wants you to buy ten times more than you need.”

“Huh,” said Lovisa, with a flash of appreciation for the merchant.

Nev dropped the leaves into a little metal strainer shaped like a silbercow that screwed closed at its middle.

“That’s cute,” said Lovisa. “Where’d you get it?”

“A woman at home makes them,” said Nev, lowering the strainer into the pot, then going back to bed. The room was freezing. Standing awkwardly, Lovisa pulled the fur collar of her robe tightly around her throat. From the bed, gold eyes peered out at her.

“Are you bonded yet?” she asked.

“No,” said Nev shortly.

I never say the right thing, Lovisa thought, then, suddenly exhausted, went to the bed and sat at Nev’s feet, not asking permission. She wondered what Nev would think if she knew Mari Devret was the reason Lovisa needed the tea. Or that Lovisa had slept with him because the Queen of Monsea was trapped in her parents’ attic, and she didn’t know what to do.

The water began to bubble, a low, comforting whisper that made her want to lie down, curl up, and fall asleep at the foot of Nev’s bed. I could sleep in Nev’s room too, she thought, with a blip of surprise. Even with her right there, annoyed at me.

Nev pushed herself up in bed with her eyes closed, back propped against the wall. When the fox kit crept out of the blankets and edged closer to Lovisa, then pressed her small side against Lovisa’s furry robe, Lovisa stiffened. It was strange to be making contact with someone’s fox.

“Would it bother you if the person I had sex with was Mari Devret?” she asked, suddenly too curious to help herself.

Nev’s eyes popped open. “No,” she said, then said nothing more, which was frustrating. Lovisa wanted to understand.

“Is that because northerners never get jealous?”

“No! Why would you think that?”

Lovisa shrugged. “Most people wouldn’t want me sleeping with their ex. I wondered if northerners cared less about those things.”

Nev looked incredulous. “Do you think we’re all the same?”

“No,” protested Lovisa.

“Isn’t your own mother a northerner? Doesn’t she get jealous?”