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She must have heard Iryana asking, knew it was her idea. Iryana couldn’t blame Misha for being angry with her. Iryana was taking away the closest family Misha had.

“Do you two want to help me with some processing?” Hadima asked hesitantly, glancing between her two sisters. “Like we used to do for Mom.”

Iryana opened her mouth to agree, desperate to wipe away her sister’s look of accusation, even if it was just a return to indifference. But Misha answered first.

“I’m busy, sorry.” And then Misha tore out of the room, her steps pounding through the hall.

Iryana closed her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Iri,” Hadima sighed. “I’m trying.”

“I know, and this isn’t on you. This is my fault.”

Hadima frowned. “It isn’t anyone’s fault. You had a lot—”

Iryana shook her head, silencing Hadima. “It’s on me. I have to take responsibility for the choices I made. It’s the only way I can make different ones now.”

“I don’t want you blaming yourself, but as long as you’re looking forward… Perhaps consider trying to talk to her, explain more about what’s going on. I know she doesn’t enjoy feeling left out.”

Iryana nodded, and she turned her mind to that as she helped Hadima with her work.

The idea that Misha thought she would take Hadima away from her, that Iryana was an enemy she needed to guard herself against, haunted Iryana. She’d seen signs that Misha still loved Iryana and cared about her, but that pain always got in the way. If Iryana started making mistakes that ate away at the love beneath… they’d never get past Misha’s pain. Iryana needed to do better. To be better.

Her ceremony was tomorrow, and she didn’t want to go into that with Misha being so upset.

So, after dinner that evening, Iryana followed her younger sister when she got up to leave, and stopped her in the kitchen.

“Hey, do you have a moment?” Iryana asked, lightly touching Misha’s shoulder before pulling back.

Misha pursed her lips, the delicate line of her jaw clenching. “Fine.”

Iryana moved into the parlor, which was thankfully empty, and closed the door behind Misha. For a moment, she just looked at her sister. Misha’s two long braids were falling over her shoulders and resting against her training gear. She stood stiff as a board, arms crossed. Bits of hair had escaped to curl around her heart-shaped face. Misha’s hazel eyes—Hadima’s eyes—were tense and guarded.

Iryana was afraid, and her hands trembled, but she held them tight behind her back. Forced the words out.

“The Vyukovold Clan didn’t want to join an alliance with the brigades, but they don’t have a healer. Hadima can help train someone there, and then they can pilgrimage to the water well. It’s a temporary arrangement.” Iryana could tell Misha wasn’t moved, so she added, “I should have explained to you both at the same time.”

Misha shrugged, a sharp jolt of her shoulders. “Don’t bother. I don’t expect that much from you.”

Iryana jerked back, surprised at the animosity in Misha’s voice. “I know you’re upset, but I don’t think that’s fair—”

“I’m not upset!” Misha snapped, despite her watering eyes and quivering jaw.

“It’s okay, you can tell me. If you could explain, then I could—”

“There’s nothing to explain!”

Iryana swallowed, trying not to shrink beneath her sister’s angry gaze. “Look, I promise that—”

“I don’t trust you!” Misha screamed.

Iryana stumbled back, unable to do anything but stare as Misha ran out of the room, the door slamming against the wall behind her.

She was terrified that Misha would never forgive her. That her little sister was lost to her completely. Hadima was the only thing that seemed to keep Iryana and Misha together at all. Without her, would Iryana’s relationship with her youngest sister completely fall apart?

Misha had every right to be upset. She’d lost her mom almost ten years ago, when Misha was only four. And then had practically become an orphan a couple years later. They didn’t know where their mother had gone, only that she wasn’t there. For years it had been only Misha and Hadima until Iryana came back to the house once their father died. But the moment she turned sixteen and took her oaths, Iryana had moved back to the little cottage. Misha had lost a lot. Had been left behind by her family time and time again.

Iryana sank down to the floor and buried her head in her arms.