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“You should try this.”

“I intend to.”

He is looking at my knees. I move one foot through the water, sending a small wave against the opposite step.

“I meant now.”

“I would prefer more time.”

Heat reaches my face. He sees it, and his mouth lifts on one side. There are disadvantages to living with someone who is learning exactly how to make me stop talking.

He crouches beside the fig and loosens the soil around its roots. I watch his hands while the water warms the last chill out of my legs. He has had those hands on me. I have no intention of letting him forget it.

“How much time?” I ask.

He looks over his shoulder.

“An afternoon would be a start.”

I sink my feet a little deeper.

Inside, I find a cloth by the washing bowl and dry my legs before putting my stockings and boots back on. Daurek remains in the courtyard, settling the fig into better soil.

I open the bag on my bed.

The comb comes out first. I put it on the shelf beside the pillow, with Asha’s brass token next to it. The letters belong on the writing ledge, where I can read them in the light. I fold the grey dress again and set it on the lower curve of the shelf.

Since I arrived, I have been able to tell myself I could leave this room in the time it took to lift one strap. Now my things are spread around me, and I am trying to decide where I want the coat.

I hang it on a hook near the door.

Daurek comes in while I am smoothing the grey sleeve. He stops beside the bed. I turn toward him, suddenly shy about something I have spent the whole morning doing.

“There,” I say.

He looks at the comb, the token, the empty bag. Then he kisses me. I catch his shoulders and keep him close.

He has been waiting for this. I can feel how much through the bond, but it is his careful hand against my cheek that makes my throat tighten.

“I couldn’t find that comb half the time,” I tell him when he lifts his head.

“I’ll remember where it is.”

“You’d better. You’ve tangled my hair.”

His smile is close enough to kiss. I do.

A knock interrupts us.

Ziku stands outside when I open the corridor door. Edrin has sent the declaration with him. I take it and let Ziku in while Daurek and I sign the brief account of yesterday’s choice. Ziku’s gaze strays toward the bed.

He sees the shelf.

“Reivaka,” he says bitterly.

“What has she done?”

“Known you better than I did.”