“Oh—no, that’s plenty.” I shake my head, forcing a smile. I’m hungry but not that hungry. “Thank you.”
She shrugs, already turning to the person beside me so I step away, scanning the tables until I spot a gap toward the back. Keeping my head down I beeline for it.
I just want to eat in peace, five minutes of quiet to gather my thoughts.
Ahria settles in front of me, claws clicking softly against the wood as I drop my tray down. I’m about to dig in when a warm voice chirps up in front of me.
“So, they fit?”
I glance up as the girl from outside—the one with the long braid who was handing out bread—slides into the seat opposite.
“Sorry—what fits?” I ask.
“The clothes.” She picks up a sausage from her plate and points it at the clothes I’m wearing. “Talen said we’d probably be the same size.”
A flicker of embarrassment slips through and I smooth my hands over the khaki shirt. “Oh—yes… umm, thank you.”
“No worries. I’m Neeve, by the way.”
Her free hand shoots across and I take her in properly—her long mousy brown braid flows over her shoulder, disappearing beneath the table and a gold nose ring catches in the light against her pale skin. Up close I realise she's probably a bit younger than me, but not by much.
I stall for a moment, nervous to take it—but then I remember I’m not in the Citadel any more and she has no reason to kill me. At least I hope. “I’m Lyra.” I reach my hand out to meet hers.
“I know,” she beams, shaking it firmly as a wide smile spreads across her face. “Been waiting for you to wake up. Nice to finally put a voice to the face.”
I mean to return the smile, but when I pull my hand free, something in my neck twinges and I wince.
“You okay?” Neeve asks.
“Yeah.” Digging my fingers into the spot, I try to ease the stiffness. “Just slept bad—the bed was rock solid.”
“I would’ve thought the boss’s bed would be more comfortable than that.” She throws me a wink and digs straight into her food.
“The boss?” My head tilts.
“Talen,” she replies around a mouthful of bread, not looking up. “Merrin might technically be in charge, but we’re all here because of Talen. He’s the one we listen to.”
“Oh—no,” shaking my head, I try to hide the blush creeping into my cheeks. “No. I’m not staying in his tent.”
“Ah, sorry my bad. I thought you two were together. From how he’s been the past few weeks, never leaving your side…” She lifts a shoulder. “I don’t think he slept. Definitely didn’t shave. And with him gone from the Citadel for so long—yeah, that would’ve caused some issues. He’s usually hardly ever here. A day, maybe two, max.”
“Talen stayed the whole time?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
Neeve nods, shovelling in another sausage.
“No, we aren’t...” What even are we? I don’t know what to say, so I settle for, “it’s complicated. I crashed in the Healer’s Tent last night. Magda was meant to find me a permanent bed today, but she left before I got the chance to ask.”
“Oh, you can stay with me. Two of the more senior recruits who were crashing in my tent got caught up in an ambush last week and never made it back.” Her smile falters for the first time. “So there are two free beds now. It’s easy to find—a few tents down from Talen’s. The wonky one.”
I want to ask more about the ambush, about what happened, but the pain flickering across her face stops me. I only just met her, and the last thing I want is to push too hard. And if the Citadel taught me anything, it’s the value of good friends. So I keep the conversation light for now.
“Okay, thanks. I appreciate that.” I offer her a friendly smile. “But the wonky one?”
“Yeah.” Her lips curve again as she swings her long braid back. “My remaining tent mate had some company over the other night, and I think they got a little distracted.” She tears off a piece of bread. “Good thing I was out.”
I bite back a laugh and reach for a sausage, only for my hand to hit empty space.
“What the?—”
