Page 47 of Silvercloak

Auria said nothing, her pixie-ish jaw clenched.

“Sorry, Saff, I can’t be here,” Tiernan mumbled. “My father would … You understand, don’t you? Take care of yourself.”

He climbed out of the booth, leaving behind most of his blossombeer, and left the tavern in a hurry.

Auria visibly squirmed. “I’m going to the bar. Another flamebrandy, Nissa?”

“Two,” said Nissa tautly. “One for Saff.”

Auria left a beat of chagrined silence, ensuring her disapproval was felt, then said, “Fine.”

Saffron tried not to betray how much the snubbing stung. After everything she’d just endured,thisshould not be the thing to break her.

Once Auria was out of earshot, Nissa’s clawed hand squeezed Saff’s beneath the table. “Are you alright?”

Saff nodded unconvincingly.

“What happened? Are you—”

“A Bloodmoon?” A stark image of Neatras’s dead body hit Saff like a physical blow. “I am. It’s done.”

“So what are you doing here, if you’re already compromised?” There was an edge of accusation to Nissa’s tone.

Anger stabbed at Saff’s temples, though she understood Nissa’s wariness. It had just been a long night.

“What I have to do to stay alive,” she said curtly, sliding out of the booth. “Excuse me.”

“No, Killor, wait—”

Saffron ignored Nissa’s protests and approached Auria, who stood straight-backed at the bar, focusing very hard on the dusty line of liquors.

“Auria,” Saff said, her toes curling inside her boots. The mental image of Papa Marriosan without his hands was seared into her skull.

Auria didn’t look at her. “Hi.”

“How have you been?”

“Good.” Her tone was pointedly flat. Saff struggled to reconcile itwith the sunny, bright-eyed friend she knew so well. “Enjoying the posting.”

Saff swallowed hard, resting her elbows on the oak-carved bar. It was sticky with honeywine residue. “How are you healing? After the final assessment.”

She shrugged. “Well, I’m missing an ear. But the scars look more dramatic than they are.”

“Can they do anything about them?” As she said it, Saff regretted it. The marks were oddly beautiful, an ethereal cobweb over pale, freckled skin. She didn’t want to imply they were something that needed fixing.

“I don’t want them to,” Auria said, her teeth gritted. “It’s a reminder to do the right thing, even if it leaves a mark.” There was a loaded pause as she gestured to the barkeep. “Three flamebrandies.”

He nodded, pouring viscous amber liquid into cut-crystal tumblers.

Saff cleared her throat. “I have a favor I need to ask.”

“Do you think you’re in a position to ask for favors?”

“No,” Saff admitted. “And I’m sorry if you felt betrayed by the forgery. I just wanted to be a Silvercloak so badly, Auria. My parents—” Her hand went to the wooden pendant. “Anyway. I wouldn’t ask unless I needed it.”

At the mention of Saff’s parents, Auria softened a little. “Go on.”

Deep breath.

---