Maybe I shouldn’t be the one doing any of those things.

I turned back to the window.

“I’m going back to Sivrinaj on my own,” I said. “Oraya shouldn’t travel that fast yet. I’ll have some of Ketura’s men escort you two back later.”

Mische leapt up. “What? You are not heading back there alone, Raihn.”

“Work on her magic with her. You’re better at that than me, anyway. And when Ketura gets here, she can teach her how to disappear her wings.”

“Raihn—”

“I don’t have time to wait, Mische,” I snapped. Then I let out a breath, and said, more gently, “Do this for me, alright? Watch out for her. Like you said. She needs someone.”

Mische’s face softened, though I could still see the conflict in it—torn between letting it go and pressing.

“Alright,” she said at last, though she didn’t sound convinced.

* * *

I left as soonas night fell the next day. I said goodbye to Mische, who vocally and emphatically disagreed with my decision to leave early. I shut down the argument fast.

When I went to Oraya’s door, no one answered my knock.

She was in there, of course. Nowhere else for her to go. And anyway, I could smell her. I could always smell Oraya’s blood, the pulse of it. I could hear her in there, too—faint rustling of blankets on the bed.

I knocked again.

Third time, I decided, I’d just let it go.

I knocked one more time, and—

“What?”

Downright vitriolic. I couldn’t help but let a little smile tug at the corner of my mouth.There she is.

I opened the door and peered in. She sat on the bed with a book, cross-legged, her wings slightly unfolded behind her.

I took a careful assessment of her in that split-second—eyes, skin, wings, wounds.

The wounds looked better than they had the night before. Wings looked a bit more relaxed, too. I’d practically ached on her behalf yesterday, just feeling the strain of those muscles. The tension, I was sure, long predated the wings. Oraya was always trying so hard to bear all that armor. I knew she’d been holding those shields up for twenty years.

I was staring. Oraya looked unamused.

“What?” she barked, again.

I smiled at her. “You’re so charming, princess.”

She stared at me.

“I’m leaving,” I said.

She blinked twice, a little too fast. Her face changed, grumpiness shifting to—

My brow twitched.

“Look at that face,” I said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried.”

“Why?” she asked, voice tight. “Where are you going?”