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“She’s a princess, isn’t she?” Havilar realized. Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away. “How can you not love a princess?”

“Because she’s not you,” Brin said fiercely. He pulled her nearer, as near as she could get. There were tears in his eyes too. “I will fix this,” he promised.

“I will find a way out, because this is all I want. Not a princess. Not a throne. Just you. Here.” He fell silent a moment. “But it’s going to take a little caution, a little time. Please-give me a chance. I. . I have to unravel some things that won’t take well to being unraveled.”

Havilar nodded mutely. He hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t even hinted.

“You said you never gave up,” she finally managed.

Brin looked at her sadly. “I didn’t. But I tried to.”

It was all more than she could manage. Havilar pushed him back.

“You. . You can’t stay here tonight,” she said. “I want to be alone. I have to be alone.” Brin stood, folded his hands, and for a brief terrible moment, Havilar wasn’t sure if she was glad or not that he wasn’t arguing. “That’s fair,” he said. “I hope it’s not always true. I mean it: I love you, and I will fix this if it destroys me.” He bent to kiss her on the cheek, and she let him, even though she didn’t know what it meant anymore. Even though when he shut the door behind him, Havilar curled her knees up tight, feeling lonelier than she could ever remember.

The little room in the Harper hall seemed even quieter the second time around. Farideh stood, waiting for the faint creaks and pops of the building, the soft vibrations of the warding magic, to break the silence.

As much as she ached for company, she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Evenfeast with Mehen and Havilar, with all the many guests of the Harpers watching her surreptitiously, had grated against her nerves. She’d hardly spoken- glad for the too-many things Mehen had to tell them about Cormyr and Suzail.

“Don’t worry,” he said, long after Farideh had stopped counting the number of times he had said it. “It’s a lovely city. And we have a home there. And people will get used to you-just as they’ve gotten used to me.”

“And if they don’t?” Farideh asked.

“If they don’t,” Mehen said mildly, “I will remind them what the Crownsilvers employ me for.”

“You can’t thrash an entire city,” Farideh said.

Don’t tempt him,” Havilar had said. And despite the fact that she had no doubt Cormyr had no place for twin tieflings with unfortunate ties to the Nine Hells, Farideh had to chuckle at that.

She still had not explained to Mehen what had happened in the tower room, what it was he had pulled her back from the brink of, and he had not pressed. Not yet. She wondered if Tharra would prove to be right-if this would be the fault that Mehen could not forgive.

She looked down at her bleached white finger. For so long she’d thought Mehen had a hard time loving her-she was stubborn and clumsy and strange beside Havilar. She wanted things Mehen couldn’t fathom the reasons for. They argued and she felt as if she’d never be enough to make him proud. And then she stole Havi-his peerless heir-from him for seven and a half years.

But he had come to the black glass tower and faced the Nameless One, and helped her back from the edge of losing herself. And she realized maybe she’d been a little blind all that time. She thought of the vision of Mehen, braiding her hair. Maybe she’d been lost in her own guilt and grief.

She was sure she would tell Mehen. But not before she told Havilar-not before she was sure she knew how bad things were-and that would have to wait for tomorrow. Farideh took off her boots and her leathers. She braided her hair and fished through her haversack for a thong to tie it off. Her hand brushed the ruby comb, tucked into the bottom of the bag, and she pulled it out.

The wind of the portal opening was hot against her neck. She shoved the comb back into the bag before turning to face Lorcan, standing in the middle of her room, not saying a word.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Only to check in on you. Make certain you’re happy with how things fell out.”

“I wasn’t executed,” she said dryly. “Fortunately.”

“I saw.”

She rubbed her brand. “I know. Does it have to hurt like that?”

“What do you want it to feel like?” he asked with a smirk.

Farideh turned back to the dressing table, hoping she wasn’t blushing as hard as it felt. “If you’re just here to tease me, you can go, many thanks. I don’t like you spying on me.”

“Watching out for you,” he corrected. “I would have stepped in.”

Farideh watched her hands as she tied the haversack shut. “Are you settled, then?”

Lorcan heaved a sigh-sounding so tired, so human that she looked up at his reflection in the mirror. “Hardly,” he said. “Sairché is not recovered-or at least, she’s insisting she is not recovered. Her Highness is unhappy without saying she is unhappy. His Majesty is. .” Farideh dropped her eyes at the mention of Asmodeus, and Lorcan didn’t finish the thought, but slipped his arms around her.

“I was thinking,” he said, “you might let me borrow your protection once more. Until things do settle.”

Farideh turned, as surprised as she would have been to hear him ask if she might consider handing her soul over for a moment. She pushed him off. “I cannot believe you’d ask me that.”

“Why not?” Lorcan smiled wolfishly. “I could make it worth your while.”

Farideh blushed hard enough her cheeks ached. “Shall I go get Dahl, then? Or will any jack do?”

Lorcan’s dark, dark eyes fixed her for a moment, his mouth shifting into his familiar smirk. “Is that what you think? How interesting.”

She folded her arms. “Please-you wouldn’t have. . if he hadn’t been standing there, you would have just left.”

“He’s not here now,” Lorcan noted, easing toward her. “It would be a simple theory to test.”

Farideh didn’t move. She felt tired and worn through as an old sleeve- threadbare and ready to tear right through. If he asked, if he pressed, she wasn’t sure she could put him off, or that she wanted to. All she could think of was how he’d kissed her, how much she wanted him to kiss her again. How easy it would be to just put everything else out of mind, if he pulled her close against him again-

How much she would hate herself if she let him make her forget that easily. You cannot save him, she thought, as his hands found her hips. You cannot make him safe. You are losing all the ground you gained in Proskur, in the fortress. It was as if she was in the frozen lake once more, at the edge of her air. I know I have to let go of him, she thought, and I can’t.

“This is all a game to you,” she said. “You’re trying to trick me.”

“A little,” he admitted. “But you enjoy it. And who says I don’t?”

“And when I say no again?” Farideh looked into his dark eyes. “How quickly will you start railing and threatening and pouting? How long will you make me pay for that?”

Lorcan hesitated. “What if I promise not to?”

“If you can manage it?” Farideh said. “Then I might think about forgiving you.” He leaned close, one hand sliding up her back to pull her nearer. “But you won’t,” she added, hardly able to think of the words. “I know you.”

His lips brushed her cheek, her jaw, her mouth. This time it wasn’t sudden, it didn’t surprise her. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, enough to make her forget the reasons this was a very bad idea.

Almost.

She pushed him away, shaking. “Gods. You’re dangerous,” she said to him, to herself.

He hesitated. “Not so dangerous as you.”

Someone knocked at the door, and Farideh let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Neither of them moved. The knocking came again.