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My skin grows hot. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait—”

I rush out of the room and down the hall to my bedroom, where I keep a basket of ribbons. Grabbing the first one—silken, black—I loop it around my throat and tie it.

When I re-enter the main living area, Achlys is curled up underneath the table.

Avaline frowns at me. “You didn’t have to cover yourself up for me.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” I say, sliding into the seat opposite her. “Just spit it out. Who died?”

She blinks. “What?”

“The only other times you’ve come outside of our pre-planned accords were to tell me someone has died. Catalin, Ioana… who else have we lost?”

“No one,” she says, reaching for a strawberry and biting into it.

Air rushes out of me in a shaky exhale, leaving my chest hollow. “Well, thank Dagny for small mercies.”

Relief flickers through me, faint and untrustworthy as I pour my tea and sip it, wondering how it’s possible to be glad someone hasn’t died while simultaneously filled with fear that worse news is bound to follow.

She chews daintily, a picture-perfect lady, and takes a long swallow of her tea. “Mmm. That is refreshing.” She smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Listen, Winny, I’m sorry to drop in like this. I had absolutely no intention to break our accords, but I have a”—she cuts herself off before she reluctantly squeaks out—“friend.”

“You have a friend?”

She squints. “You could say that.”

“Is it the same friend who gave you that dress?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, gods no. This was a gift from… someone else.”

It’s my turn to squint at her. “A male someone else?”

Her teeth carve into her upper lip. “Don’t be mad.”

“Avaline,” I groan. “It’s Carver, isn’t it?”

“It’s just a dress!”

I toss a strawberry at her. “A dress he gifted you so he could take it off you!” Her cheeks burn a bright shade of pink, and I gasp. “He’s already gotten you out of it, hasn’t he?”

“Like five hours ago,” she mumbles. “But it’s really not a big deal. We’re just… getting to know one another again.”

“Naked.”

She sips her tea. “Occasionally.”

I rub my lips together, torn between genuine happiness for Avaline—she’d been absolutely devastated when Carver ended their relationship so long ago—and a gnawing worry for her safety. He’s a vampire, and my friends seem to have a terrible record with them.

“Just be careful,” I say softly, stuffing my toes beneath Achlys’s warm belly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

“You’d just bring me back.”

“Ava—”

“I’m kidding,” she says. “Don’t worry about me. Just… let me tell you why I’m actually here.”

“Right, right.” I circle the rim of my cup with my finger. “You mentioned a friend. Who is it?”