Sadie

I wandered the halls, searching for a bed for the night. I finally settled upon a room halfway down the third corridor, too tired to keep exploring the grounds. It was a simpler chamber than some of the more ostentatious stylings around the place, but everything from the bed to the wardrobe was made with fine materials and I liked how I could easily booby-trap the entrance to alert me to anyone entering . . . well, only one person.

I spent the evening pilfering through the drawers in the bedside table. My body was exhausted but my mind was still frantic. I lifted page after page of song sheets, ignoring them at first, but when I started to study the lyrics written between the bars, I realized—it wasn’t a song at all but a letter.

I wondered if another secret message lay beneath the words, too. This note seemed to come from Taigos, the writer talking about performances and travel plans. I dropped the page and picked up another, my eyes widening at the name signed at the very bottom: Mina.

A knock sounded at the door and I jolted. Sweet Moon, I had reached that jittery kind of tired; I was practically swaying on my feet. But I needed to keep my wits about me in this place. Nothing was safe, especially not the person knocking on my door.

I debated not answering, just telling Navin to go away, but finally I relented and bitterly called, “Enter.”

As if I had any permission to give in this place. As if this wasn’t just a prettier cell.

Navin peeked his head in, his eyes going from the lit candelabra to the dress hugging my figure and sandals on my feet. “Still awake.”

“So perceptive.”

I folded my arms tight across my chest. “I don’t suppose there’s any point locking these doors when you can just whistle them open?”

Navin’s pinched expression only enraged me further. Did he really think giving me some space over the course of a single day would sway me to see his side? Answers or no, he was my captor, my enemy.

“I can’t open these locks,”

he assured me, gesturing to the door.

I hated the way that comforted me. It should be him locking his doors, him who was afraid that I’d prowl into his room at night and tear open his flesh with my teeth. Maybe I still would . . .

Navin nodded to the sheet music in my hand. “Planning on singing a tune before bed?”

“These are letters,”

I said, lifting the one in my hand.

“They are.”

Navin’s eyebrows lifted, seemingly impressed.

I didn’t want any of his validation. Even as he spoke, I was still plotting all the ways I could make him suffer once I was certain it wouldn’t bring any suffering back onto me. That was a puzzle I still hadn’t quite solved. Patience was never my strong suit. I wanted instant vengeance.

“So Mina is a Songkeeper.”

I shook my head. “I mean, I should’ve guessed. Everyone in Galen den’ Mora was . . .” It felt so strange, people I thought I had a good read on, leading this completely different life.

“She’s quite powerful in her own right,”

Navin said.

My eyes widened. I didn’t know if it was the exhaustion or the litany of new information, but my mind instantly fled to the Queen I’d left with a powerful magic wielder. I wondered if Mina was luring Hector in with her songs just as Navin was bespelling me. “Calla—”

“Calla is safe, even more so with Mina around,”

Navin said quickly. He held up a placating hand and I clenched my jaw at the sight of it. I didn’t want his comfort. “I wished for Mina to return to Galen den’ Mora with me, but she refused. She loves being a member of the Golden Court. She believes in what Calla is doing. You will never need to fear her disloyalty.”

I huffed a bitter laugh. “I don’t know.”

I looked him up and down. “I’m not so eager to start trusting sweet-natured musicians. I’ve been so, so wrong before.”

“You aren’t wrong about her.”

Navin leaned his head against the doorframe, the mottled bruises on his face shining in the candlelight. “I am so incredibly sorry, . But I will find a way to make it right.”

I balled my hands into fists. Gods, it would feel good to smash his face in again. “You make this right by getting me out of here and then leaving me the fuck alone, you lying piece of shit.”

I could tell he was trying to hide the hurt of my words. Or maybe it was just another act. Honestly, fuck him. I didn’t need his sad little puppy dog eyes after he’d lied to me about everything. He’d locked me in a cell; he should be grateful he was only feeling the bite of my words and not my teeth.

“The way I see it, you have three choices,”

Navin said. “One: go along with my plan.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Once we’re out of here, you could easily overpower me if you still think I’m tricking you.” I pursed my lips at that. Good. Let him not forget it. He lifted a second finger. “Two: kill me, try to best the samsavet, and flee. Or three: see if you can broker a better deal with Rasil when he returns.”

“None of those sound particularly appealing.”

“I know.”

He dusted his hands down his tunic, and it was only then I realized he had flour on them.

“Seems I’m not the only one who can’t sleep.”

“I’m making bhavi rolls,”

he said, watching me closely as the memory hit me.

I raised my eyebrows at that. He remembered. He’d taken me to dinner in Taigos, and we’d had these delicious little bread rolls stuffed with spices, honey, and glazed almonds. I’d joked I’d eat them every day if I could. I pinched off my heart from the many faces of this man: a baker, a songwriter, a magician, a liar. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. And I certainly wouldn’t be lured back into trusting him with the promise of sweets of all things. I’d rather eat something bloody and raw anyway.

“I’m going to bed,”

I said instead, folding my arms. I’d sooner throw his baking in the sand than let him think he was winning me over.

“Okay.”

He lingered in the doorway. “Read the letters,” he said, nodding to the song sheets in my hand. “You’ll know I’m not lying about Mina’s loyalty to Calla at least.” I frowned and dropped onto the lumpy mattress. The whole bed creaked. “There are more comfortable bedrooms,” Navin continued, as if he were finding any excuse not to leave me. “The one next door has the best mattress, I think.”

I pinned him with a look as I stood and strode to the door. “I can sleep anywhere,”

I spat, gripping the door tighter. “After all, I’m just a dog, aren’t I?” I slammed the door in his face before he could reply. I hoped Navin’s heart sunk a little further with the snick of the lock.

I flipped through a book of ancient maps as I perched on the kitchen table, eating my fourth bhavi roll. It wasn’t until my stomach was painfully full that I licked the honey off my fingers and reached for the jug of freshly squeezed fruit juice.

I wondered if Navin had been up all night picking fruits and baking for me. Again, I had no sympathy for him. My forgiveness wasn’t so easily won. I wouldn’t be gently wooed into compliance. Not again.

But it was delicious . . .

No. That doesn’t matter. Figuring out what is happening matters.

Now that Navin had steered me toward answers in the library, I was determined not to need him at all. I had a thousand questions right on the tip of my tongue—ones he could probably answer for me with no effort. But instead, I pored through tome after tome, searching for the answers the long way.

I’d stayed up most of the night reading Mina’s letters to Ciara. Whoever this Ciara was, clearly the two of them were close friends. In letter after letter, Mina pleaded with Ciara to use any influence at their disposal to convince Rasil to support the Golden Court. It consoled me greatly to know Calla was safe with Mina; at least on that front, I hadn’t entirely misjudged the musician.

I heard the scuffle of Navin’s sandals long before he said, “I knew you’d like the juice.”

He knew nothing about me.

I knocked the carafe off the table at that, knowing it made me petty, far more like a cat than a Wolf. The ceramic shattered, shards flying everywhere as juice splattered across the floor.

Navin, to my surprise, only let out a light laugh. “You’d saw off the branch you’re sitting on just to watch it fall, hey?”

“Only if you were also on it. Goddess of stubbornness,”

I reminded him. “You think I’m only an animal, so I’m behaving like one.”

“I said that so Rasil would leave you alone,”

he countered. “I thought he would retaliate after you nearly choked me to death,” he added pointedly. A satisfied smile curved my lips at the memory. “I didn’t want him to suspect how I truly feel.”

I dramatically rolled my eyes at that. “If you felt anything at all, you would’ve been honest with me.”

I pressed my lips together, making a study of him. “The only thing I’m left to conclude is that I was some twisted obsession, a sick curiosity—”

“I would never think like that.”

I picked up the book beside me and slid off the table. “Will you and your husband laugh about all this one day?”

Chin high, I didn’t meet Navin’s eyes as I tried to walk past.

“—”

I knew before he even moved that he was going to reach out and try to grab me. I’d once been thrilled by the possessiveness of those hands, the confidence of his grip, but now . . . His hand had barely lifted when I moved, dropping the book I held and blindly reaching backward to grab the kitchen knife off the table behind me. My other hand grabbed Navin by the wrist and spun him, wrenching his arm until he barked out a cry. I slammed him into the wall. The tip of my blade was at his throat before he could even speak.

“You have a way of thinking you can just grab me whenever you like,”

I hissed, pushing my blade in for emphasis. “Let me make one thing abundantly clear, Navin Mourad.” My nails bit into his wrist. “Every single time you touch me, it is only because I allow it.” I threw the knife to the ground and released him, storming out the door as I said, “Remember that next time you think it’s a good idea to stop me.”