She fished out her bag of laceroot and counted out a few seeds, blinking away the stinging in her eyes. No sense in stopping now, with or without Tavin there—not with Trikovoi still so far off.
“Don’t tell me you’re worriedI’llget you with child,” Jasimir scoffed.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back. “And learn how bleeding works. I don’t need anymorepains in the ass.”
The tyrant silence reigned cold betwixt them. Jasimir started rummaging in his pack. “I still say we should go to the Hawks. They’re honor bound to—”
She couldn’t hide her irritation. “I still say no.”
“Because I said it and not Tavin.”
That hit closer than she’d own to. “Because it’s a fool notion. They’ll never believe us.” Jasimir rolled his eyes. Her temper flared. “And if we’re going for the cheap hits, when Tavin told you no, you listened.”
“This is different.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Fie said.
“Tavin was trying to protect us. You’re just—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
“I’m.What.”
The prince would not look at her. “You’re no Tavin,” he mumbled.
“Neither are you,” Fie said, prying a few pelts from her pack. Jasimir flinched. She heaved one in his general direction. “Enough. Sleep in that. I’m taking watch.”
He wrinkled his nose as if the pelt was still attached to a rotting doe. “You’re joking. I know what you two did in these.”
“Oh aye?” Fie asked with nasty, sugar-bright cheer. “You sorted out what rutting is? You’re such a grown-up little man!”
His lip curled. “Don’t be vulgar.”
“And you grow the hell up.” She didn’t feel like pulling punches anymore. “Stop whipping me because your Hawk didsquarewhat you wanted him to.”
Jasimir recoiled like she’d struck him. “Don’t youdare.I didn’t want him to—to—I just wanted him to do his duty—”
“Which is to die for you—”
“It’s to putmefirst!” Jasimir slammed a palm over his heart. “He’s the closest thing to a brother I have! He had his pick of the court, did he tell you? Every week he brought back a different Hawk sword-maid, a different Peacock lord-in-waiting, a new Swan apprentice, and he still put me first. He wasnevergoing to parade around a little Crow half chief for a wife.”
“Did he tell you he never meant to go back to court?” Fie snarled. Jasimir’s jaw dropped. “Aye.Never.He said it’d blow your story if both of you survived the plague. He said when I left Trikovoi, it’d be with him at my side. And he said the only reason he never stayed with a lover before was because he thought he’d have to die for you someday. So I hope you feel real damn kingly about every time you’ve thrown that in his face.”
Jasimir stared at her, aghast. She wasn’t done.
“I knew I wasn’t the first,” she hissed. “And I know who I am. Now you tell me. Is your problem that you came second to me? Or is it that you came second to a Crow?”
Jasimir froze.
“Which is it, palace boy?” she demanded.
The answer came out in a ragged rush. “Both.”
Fie caught her breath. To her astonishment, her eyes pricked with tears. She hadn’t expected the prince to own to it. To fight her, to whine, to dodge, to deny—all likely. She didn’t know why hearing him admit it shook her so.
Jasimir ran his hands over his face. Then he got to his feet and stalked off into the trees without another word.
When he came back, it was with an armful of fallen branches. Some had dried out enough to hold a flame, but others still showed green at the heart of their splinters, the leaves barely wilted. “I need the cooking pot and a fire.”
Fie blinked at him, hackles rising again at his imperious tone, but she kept silent and yanked open her own pack, pulling out the cooking pot.
