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Kyoshi watched him writhe at her feet. After thinking it over, she yanked the gourd full of wine off his neck, snapping the string, and poured the contents out until it was empty. The liquid splashed the man’s face, and he flinched.

“I’m holding on to this in case you change your mind yet again,” she said, waggling the empty container. “I’ve heard about Tagaka’s disciplinary methods, and I don’t think she’d approve of drinking on guard duty.”

The man groaned and covered his head with his arms.

Kyoshi collapsed facedown outside her tent. Her forehead lay on the ice. It felt good, cooling. The encounter had sapped her of energy, left her unable to take the last few steps to her bunk. So close, and yet so far.

She didn’t know what had come over her. What she’d done was so stupid it boggled the mind. If word got back to Jianzhu somehow . . .

A bright light appeared over her head. She twisted her neck upward to see Rangi holding up a self-generated torch. A small flame danced above her long fingers.

Rangi looked down at her and then at the liquor gourd still in her hand. She sniffed the night air. “Kyoshi, have you been drinking?”

It seemed easier to lie. “Yes?”

With great difficulty, Rangi dragged her inside by the arms. It was warmer in the tent, the difference between a winter’s night and an afternoon in spring. Kyoshi could feel the stiffness leaving her limbs, her head losing the ponderous echo it seemed to have before.

Rangi yanked pieces of the battle outfit off her like she was stripping down a broken wagon. “You can’t sleep in that getup. Especially not the armor.”

She’d taken her own gear off and was only wearing a thin cotton shift that exposed her arms and legs. Her streamlined figure belied the solidness of her muscles. Kyoshi caught herself gawking, having never seen her friend out of uniform before. It was hard for her to comprehend that the spiky bits weren’t a natural part of Rangi’s body.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping with Yun?” Kyoshi said.

Rangi’s head turned so fast she almost snapped her own neck. “You know what I mean,” Kyoshi said.

The redness faded from Rangi’s ears as quickly as it came. “The Avatar and Master Jianzhu are reviewing strategy. Master Amak only ever sleeps in ten-minute intervals throughout the day, so he and the most experienced guardsmen will keep watch. The order is that everyone else should be well-rested for tomorrow.”

They settled beneath their furs. Kyoshi already knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep as she’d been told. Her former life on the street in conjunction with her privileged place in the mansion these days meant that, improbably, she’d never had a roommate before. She was acutely aware of Rangi’s little movements right next to her, the air rising in and out of the Firebender’s chest.

“I don’t think they did anything wrong,” Kyoshi said as she stared at the underside of their tent.

Rangi didn’t respond.

“I heard from Auntie Mui about what Xu and the Yellow Necks did to unarmed men, women, and children. If half of that is true, then Jianzhu went too easy on them. They deserved worse.”

The moonlight came through the seams of the tent, making stars out of stitch holes.

She should have stopped there, but Kyoshi’s certainty buoyed her along past the point where it was safe to venture. “And accidents are accidents,” she said. “I’m sure your mother never meant to harm anyone.”

Two strong hands grabbed the lapels of her robe. Rangi yanked her over onto her side so that they were facing each other.

“Kyoshi,” she said hoarsely, her eyes flaring with pain. “One of those opponents was her cousin. A rival candidate for headmistress.”

Rangi gave her a hard, jostling shake. “Not a pirate, or an outlaw,” she said. “Her cousin. The school cleared her honor, but the rumors followed me at school for years. People whispering around corners that my mother was—was an assassin.”

She spit the word out like it was the most vile curse imaginable. Given Rangi’s profession as a bodyguard, it likely was. She buried her face into Kyoshi’s chest, gripping her tightly, as if to scrub the memory away.

Kyoshi wanted to punch herself for being so careless. She cautiously draped an arm over Rangi’s shoulder. The Firebender nestled under it and relaxed, though she still made a series of sharp little inhalations through her nose. Kyoshi didn’t know if that was her way of crying or calming herself with a breathing exercise.

Rangi shifted, pressing closer to Kyoshi’s body, rubbing the soft bouquet of her hair against Kyoshi’s lips. The sta

rtling contact felt like a transgression, the mistake of a girl exhausted and drowsy. The more noble Fire Nation families, like the one Rangi descended from, would never let just anyone touch their hair like this.

The faint, flowery scent that filled Kyoshi’s lungs made her head swim and her pulse quicken. Kyoshi kept still like it was her life’s calling, unwilling to make any motion that might disturb her friend’s fitful slumber.

Eventually Rangi fell into a deep sleep, radiating warmth like a little glowing coal in the hearth. Kyoshi realized that comforting her throughout the night was both an honor and a torture she wouldn’t have traded for anything in the world.

Kyoshi closed her eyes. She did her best to ignore the pain of her arm losing circulation and her heart falling into a pile of ribbons.

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