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Lysander was silent for a long time. “A price I gladly paid.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Perhaps we aren’t so different,” she said. The admission settled badly within her.

He stood, crossing the space between them. He knelt before her.

“Perhaps, witchling,” he said. “But never forget what we are.”

The world narrowed to the space between them, the moment stretching. A knock shattered it like glass.

Idonea jerked back, pulse spiking. Lysander straightened instantly.

“Idonea?” came Kitsa’s voice from the other side.

Lysander shut the bathroom door before pulling the front door open. A gust of wind and snow burst in.

Kitsa’s face bore a wide smile. “Morning.” She stepped inside, letting Lysander close the door behind her.

Idonea stood from her chair. Only then did she look down at the dried flecks of blood on her sleeves. Edik’s blood.

Kitsa didn’t notice. She looked between them, smile unwavering. “Would you like another lesson?”

“Can I meet you in the same chamber?” Idonea swallowed hard. “I just … need a moment.”

Kitsa nodded, still cheerful. “Of course.”

“She hasn’t eaten yet,” Lysander added.

Kitsa’s eyes softened. “Then take your time. I’ll wait in the chamber.”

She slipped out as quickly as she came, leaving swirling cold in her wake. The door shut.

Idonea and Lysander stood in the silence once more, the fire cracking faintly behind them.

“I need something clean,” she said.

Lysander nodded towards the bedroom. “Some of your other outfits were laundered. In the closet.”

She went and changed, tucking the torn relic page back into her clothes. The risk of someone finding it had increased. Though she doubted anyone else could read it, it wasn’t a chance she was taking.

Dressed in clean clothes, Idonea left and made her way to the terrace where Kitsa now stayed. Other witches lounged in the space and stilled in their motions at Idonea and Lysander’s appearance.

Idonea didn’t let her gaze linger on any of them for too long; any of them could be the one blocking the daemon signature. Though they were so young. It didn’t seem plausible.

She made her way to the larder, and Lysander opened the hatch.

The chamber was no longer bare. A couple of armchairs, a woven rug, and a set of shelves now sat in the space. Books sat proudly on one shelf.

Kitsa nursed a cup of tea while lounging in the chair.

She smiled at Idonea. “Cosy, right?”

“You did this yourself?” Idonea asked, taking a seat. Lysander, once again, stayed standing outside the chamber. Left lingering in the passageway.

Kitsa shook her head. “No. Others helped.”

Idonea glanced over at the books.

“You can take one if you want,” Kitsa said. “But keep it from the Templars.”