It would be so easy, a quick shove, and once she wore herself out screaming and trying to stay afloat, she’d be one more body at the bottom. They could call it an accident.
And every way she could fight him off, she would lose—she knew that as sure as the sun rose. He’d win with steel, he could not be touched by fire, and whatever she might wreak with a Hawk war-witch’s tooth he could easily undo with his own healing.
She’d just always trusted that Tavin wouldn’t hurt her, not when he needed her help, and then not while he held her heart. That wasn’t the boy Fie knew.
But this was a traitor with a stolen face.
She should have cut his throat while he slept.
“I know why I’m here,” she rasped.
He took a step back from the well’s edge, drawing her away with him, then unwound his arm from hers. “I’m going to play the fool,” he said tightly. “I’ll tell the queen I thought she just wanted you taken away from the party, and if you’re asked, we only passed by the well as we walked about the gardens. But if you ever speak openly against her again, she will know, andshe will kill you.”
To Fie’s humiliation, her sight blurred with tears. She couldn’t help it; the well still droned in her spine, her heartbeat still crackled down her veins, she still hated him, missed him, she hated this awful palace and everyone in it and she wanted to go back to her roads and her crowsilk and her pa.
The words choked themselves free: “How do you live like this?”
Tavin’s face fractured the way it had the night before. He turned his head away and said, voice cracking, “They’re all short lives.”
Fie wanted to push him into the well for quoting her own words to a different face. She wanted to cry more because he’d remembered them.
All she did was scrub her face with a sleeve until she could speak again. “W-why are you helping me? Won’t the queen be angry?”
Tavin didn’t look at her. “I don’t want to answer to the Covenant for any more than I already have to,” he said heavily. He hesitated a moment, then turned to the stairs, offering his arm once more. She took it. “The palace is full of dark secrets. You don’t have to be another one.”
Fie gulped. She needed to managesomethingtoday, or Khoda might send her back to the well himself. “And if I like dark secrets?” she made herself ask.
Tavin’s eyebrows shot up, as if to ask,Even after this?He gave her a long look, one that ended with a hint of a smile. “Then I have a lot to show you, Lady Sakar.”
Niemi’s tooth-spark flickered at Fie, prompting. “You saved my life, Your Highness. If I may be so bold, I think you can call me Niemi.”
Something hitched in Tavin’s face, only to smooth over. He reached over to rest his free hand on hers. “Thank you, Niemi. And you may call me Jasimir.”
Jasimir and Khoda were both waiting for her at the meeting statue, and they fell in line behind her, seamlessly shifting from palace servants to personal attendants as Fie strode toward the guest quarters.
Once they reached the empty chamber Yula had set aside for them and the door had shut, Fie found herself wrapped in an abrupt embrace.
“I’m fine, Jas,” she wheezed, but she hugged the prince back anyway.
Jasimir didn’t let go, but still managed to point a finger at Khoda. “You’re not allowed to yell at her,” he said, voice muffled in her shoulder. “I—I forbid it, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Khoda sounded less acerbic than Fie had expected, but twice as tired.
“I thought they were—I thought he would—” Jasimir pulled back but kept a tight grip on her shoulders. “How did you get away?”
“He’s just going to play like he misunderstood.” Fie ducked her head. “He didn’t want to kill me. Let others kill the Crows, aye,” she added bitterly, “but he’s not up for drowning Peacock girls yet.”
“His Highness was right.” Khoda folded his arms. “We’re asking too much of you. I should have warned you about Dengor and Urasa—”
Fie shook her head. “I can do it. Hells, now Tavin and I are on a first-name basis. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Not if you had to take a trip to the Well of Grace to get there!”
Jasimir let her go, only to turn to Khoda, rubbing his chin. “No, no, we… we can work with this. The aristocracy will smell that lie a league away and know he intervened for her. It already looks suspicious that he’s courting a woman. If that becomes a point of conflict between him and Rhusana…”
“The strength of their alliance would also be questioned,” Khoda said.
Jasimir nodded. “Making an argument.”
