Safi had never visited this part of the city. It was not so run-down as the slums, but it had certainly seen better days.

“I feel … good,” Safi said, and to her surprise, the words were true, true, true. Yes, her muscles juddered and her toes were still blocks of ice. And yes, the Loom’s magic called to her, miles upon miles away. But this was her first taste of freedom in a month, her first trip outside the palace without guards or Hell-Bards or a chain around her neck, and her first glimpse of colors, even if nighttime dulled their edges.

“If I did not have unfinished business at the palace,” she continued, “I would leave the city right now.”

A murmur of acknowledgment from Leopold. He still held her hand. “You cannot go alone, though, Safiya.”

Her brows drew together. “But there is no one who can go with me, Polly.”

“Oh, but there is.” He tipped back his head until she could see his face beneath the hood. Skeletal in the shadows, but with bright, otherworldly green eyes. “I will go with you.”

Safi did not react. She simply gazed at him, grasping for any change in the Truth-lens. But it did not frizz with lies.

“How could you join me?” she asked. “I thought you could not risk openly helping me or execution would await you.”

“No,” he admitted, tugging Safi back toward the river. Several blocks later, the second chimes clanged, and Leopold finally continued: “It is a delicate balance. My loyalties to Cartorra are true. My loyalties to the Cahr Awen as well. Until now, I have walked that line as best I could, for I am my uncle’s heir. I do take my future role seriously. More than seriously. It is all I have been raised for, all I have ever wanted.”

He hesitated. His footsteps briefly slowed. Then he resumed his pace, faster now, and his grip on Safi tightened.

“However, circumstances have changed.” He glanced briefly at her, his hood rustling. She could not see his face. “What is at stake has changed.”

Safi’s eyes narrowed. “My uncle? I realize you’re working with him on this scheme to end all wars and heal the Origin Wells, but how does knowing where he is change anything? You didn’t interfere when Henrick took my magic. You didn’t interfere when Iseult was chased away. And you don’t interfere now when Hell-Bards hunt her down.”

“Ah, but that’s just it, you see. Everything is different.” He lifted her hand and gazed down at her fingers for several seconds. Then his second hand grabbed hold too, and Safi knew—before he could speak, before he could fully enclose her hand in both of his—she knew what he was going to say next.