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“Hey,” Pyetar said, his voice low and soothing.

“I just need a minute—I’ll be there soon,” she choked out with false cheer, as if she were just taking a quick breather and not falling apart entirely.

“Are you okay?”

“Just… can you give me a minute?”

He didn’t move.

“Pyetar, please. Just go away. I need to be alone right now.” She couldn’t stand to show him how weak she was beneath the false bravery she wore.

She turned farther away from him, hoping he would get the hint. Let her fall apart in private.

“No, I’m not letting you hide this from me,” he growled. “We promised no more secrets.”

“This isn’t a secret,” she argued, voice strangled. Her eyes were burning and she fought to keep the tears at bay. “I—”

His hands slid around her face, his fingers tugging her chin so that she was looking at him. Could he see how broken she felt? Her clothing and hair had all been meticulously assembled, but she was sure her face reflected her turmoil.

Pyetar’s brows twisted over his worried blue eyes, and those full lips pulled into a frown.

“What’s going on?” he asked gently.

Pyetar hadn’t seen this side of her, not really. No one had.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said weakly, trying to avoid his gaze lest she completely lose it.

He narrowed his eyes at her and he pulled his lower lip into his mouth, seeming to consider his words carefully before answering.

“I’m not going to judge you, Iri. You don’t need to fear that.”

Iryana fought the urge to flinch away from him, the urge to believe seeing this would make him run from her. Even with her heart racing and all the worries about what was about to go wrong swimming in her mind, she remembered that promise not to listen to the fear.

She leaned into him, letting him pull her against his chest. The strength and warmth of his arms enveloped her, and she breathed more easily.

“What if they don’t listen to me? What if they don’t care?” Iryana blurted out. “I’m only twenty, and I’m not even officially the Third. Why would they listen to me? What will we do if they don’t?”

“Then fuck them.” Pyetar shrugged, the words making his chest vibrate. “And we will keep trying. You’re right—we need to work together, but if they can’t see it now, they will eventually. Because we won’t give up.”

Her voice came out small. “It feels like this is our chance, and I’m afraid I’ll ruin it.”

“How many people did I go to about my brother? How many listened? No one, and yet we took care of it.”

“I don’t think that’s particularly comforting,” she complained.

“You convinced your clan to follow you, united us to remove Karvek from power, and convinced the river brigades to help us. I think you’re more convincing than you think.”

She shrugged, not quite believing it. They’d all shared a desire to get rid of Karvek, that was plenty motivating.

Pyetar smoothed out her hair. “If things go badly, I’ll be here. Your uncle will be here, Vaneshta will be here, and we will figure it out. Okay?”

She nodded, taking another steadying breath. This time, she found she could shove the panic and fear back into its cage. “Thank you.”

“Ready to head in?”

Iryana straightened, let the facade of confidence fall over her again.

“Yeah.” She smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.