He breaks into a lopsided smile when he sees me, and he pushes off the wall he was leaning against, meeting me halfway down the hall.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, Erik,” I tell him, surprised to find that it’s true. Maybe it’s because he isn’t fully Kalovaxian, and I have a difficult time thinking of him as one of them.

“It takes more than a few pirates to kill me,” he says, shaking his head.

I hesitate. “How is he?”

Erik’s face clouds, and he doesn’t have to ask who I’m referring to. “Søren’s…as you would expect him to be. Whatever you said in your letter seemed to comfort him, though. He read it at least a dozen times before he burned it. Of course, the Kaiser blames him for the failure of the siege. This was his first major command and it should have been an easy one. But I was there, Thora. There was nothing he could have done. We were ambushed.”

An ambush to stop an ambush. These are not people who deserve my pity.

“I know,” I tell him instead. “It must have been awful. I’m glad you both are safe, though.”

He nods, but his eyes dart around and he lowers his voice to a murmur. “I was hoping we could speak privately. Well…” He breaks off, glancing behind me where I’m sure my Shadows are waiting. “As privately as we can.”

I lower my own voice to match his, even though my heart is thundering. “Is everything all right?”

He pauses, blue eyes flickering around the empty hall. “When we first met, you asked me about berserkers….” He trails off, but raises his dark eyebrows pointedly.

My hand slips on his arm at the sound of the word, but I’m careful to keep my expression nonchalant. Lady Thora doesn’t really care about anything as boring as berserkers, whatever they might be. She only asked him out of mild curiosity. I can’t let him see how desperately I want to know.

“I know the perfect place,” I say.

* * *

—

The garden is empty, as it usually is, and as soon as we’ve taken a lap around the perimeter to ensure no one is listening, Erik drops my arm and turns to me. All pretense of friendliness dissolves immediately. His eyes go cold in a way that reminds me of the Kaiser so much it’s jarring. I unconsciously take a step back.

“Did you tell anyone about Vecturia?” He asks the question quietly, but like he already knows the answer.

The accusation stops my heart and panic seizes me, but I struggle not to show it, to keep my expression surprised and perplexed, but not afraid.

I meet his gaze. “Of course not.” I manage to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question, even as my heart hammers loudly in my chest.

“It was a quiet mission; trade-route pirates were our official story. I was the only one besides Søren who knew otherwise before we left, and I didn’t tell anyone except you. But Dragonsbane knew, the Vecturians knew.”

I glance up at the windows, counting one, two, three Shadows watching. If the accusations go any further, they can make sure Erik ends up at the bottom of the sea with my former Shadows. No one is around to see, he made sure of it himself. Still, I would rather it not come to that.

“I have no idea, Erik,” I say, keeping my voice level. “I’d all but forgotten you even mentioned Vecturia until now. Besides, I’m watched always, even now—do you think I had any opportunity to waltz out of the palace, find Dragonsbane, and tell him what you had planned? I don’t even know what you had planned. The Kaiser already made me answer for your failure. Are you going to make me answer for it again now?”

For a beat, he looks uncertain, his eyes flitting away before landing on me again.

“Nothing else makes sense, Thora,” he says, but his voice wavers.

“And this does?” I ask him. “That I’m a spy, giving information to pirates? How does that benefit me at all?”

He lifts a shoulder in a defiant shrug, but it’s halfhearted. “Dragonsbane is known to work with Astrean rebels. It’s a way of striking back, a way of weakening our troops, even a way of getting rid of Søren—”

“I would never,” I say, letting my voice rise to a shout before I hasten to lower it, stepping closer to Erik. “I…” I trail off, making a show of biting my lip and looking troubled. “I love Søren.”

It’s not the truth, but it isn’t as much of a lie as it should be. I give a mournful sigh and sit down on the stone bench at the garden’s center, letting my shoulders slump forward.

“I’ve been raised here among Kalovaxians,” I continue, making my voice fray like I’m on the verge of tears. “After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve endured, I can’t believe you would still question my loyalty.”

I hear him huff out a breath before sitting down next to me. “I’m sorry,” he says after a minute, and it takes all I have to hide the relief coursing through me.

He clears his throat. “When you said the Kaiser made you answer for our failure…” He trails off.

I sigh and turn my back to him, tugging down my collar just low enough that he can see the tops of some of the fresh scars. Even with Ion speeding up the healing process, they’re raw. They look a few days old instead of a few hours, but are still red and raised and painful. He lets out a curse under his breath, and when I turn back I see he’s gone a few shades paler, so that he almost looks like a full-blooded Kalovaxian.

He’ll tell Søren about this, I realize, and I can use that to my advantage. I can fuel Søren’s anger at his father even more.

“It’s not the first time, and I doubt it will be the last,” I say, pulling the collar of my dress back up so that the wounds are covered once more.

“When Søren finds out—”

“He’ll do what, Erik?” I ask, choking out a bitter laugh. He’ll repeat this to Søren, so I need to make it count. “He won’t stand up to his father. He won’t take me away from here. He’ll marry Crescentia, just like the Kaiser wants him to, and keep me as, what? His mistress? Or his stepmother, if the Kaiser gets his way. And we both know he always does.”

The idea is so ridiculous that I can’t help but laugh, as much as it sickens me. I glance at Erik, expecting surprise, but he shows none.

“You’ve heard the rumors,” I say. “He hasn’t been very subtle. Does Søren know?”

He shakes his head. “Søren prefers to ignore rumors, even ones he knows are true,” he says. “In our many years of friendship, he’s never once asked me if I’m really his father’s bastard.”