Page 25 of Crown of Storm and Silence
"We've known each other for years, Elif. Nesilhan. Whatever name you want to use." She hops down from her perch, moving to sit across from me. "Since you were barely more than a child, actually."
My heart starts beating faster. "How? Where?"
"You were training to be…let’s call it a problem-solver for important people." Banu's voice takes on that musical qualityit gets when she's being deliberately vague. "Very exclusive training. The kind where they don't just teach you to fight, but how to think, how to move through shadows, how to kill without being seen."
The words should shock me, but they don't. They settle into place like puzzle pieces I've been searching for.
"An assassin," I say quietly.
"Among other things. You were brilliant at it, too, which honestly was both impressive and terrifying to watch." She grins, and for a moment, the weight in her eyes lifts. "You had this way of analyzing people, figuring out exactly what they feared most, what they wanted most. Made you very, very dangerous."
"And you were there…how?”
"Oh, I was definitely not supposed to be there." Her grin turns mischievous. "I'd been living rough for a while—family troubles, you could say—and I heard about this academy where they trained the most elite warriors. Thought maybe I could steal something valuable, maybe some magical artifacts or rare books."
I find myself leaning forward despite everything. "What happened?"
"I posed as a pet merchant. Came to the gates with a cart full of exotic birds and small creatures, claiming I had a special order for one of the instructors." She laughs, the sound bright and musical. "Spent weeks casing the place, learning the routines, figuring out where they kept the good stuff."
"But you got caught."
"By you." Her pale eyes meet mine, and there's such warmth there it takes my breath away. "I was in the archives, trying to steal a particularly interesting book about ancient fae magic, when you walked in. Just stood there in the doorway, watching me stuff this enormous tome down the front of my dress."
Despite everything—the confusion, the fear, the weight of mysteries I can't solve—I laugh. "What did you do?"
"Panicked, obviously. Started babbling about how I was just looking for the privy and must have taken a wrong turn. You know, while still clearly stealing a book." She shakes her head, silver hair shimmering. "You just looked at me for the longest time, then walked over and helped me get the book positioned so it wouldn't fall out while I was escaping."
"I helped you steal it?"
"You said—and I remember this exactly—'If you're going to steal something that valuable, at least don't be obvious about it.'" Banu's voice goes soft with memory. "Then you told me about a window on the third floor that was always left unlocked, and suggested I might want to use it instead of wandering the halls like a lost tourist."
Warmth spreads through my chest, unfamiliar but welcome. "That does sound like something I might do."
"You were…lonely, I think. All that training, all those lessons in being a perfect weapon, but no one to just talk to. No one who saw you as anything other than a tool being sharpened." She reaches out hesitantly, then pulls her hand back. "So I started coming back. Not to steal—well, notjustto steal—but to see you."
"How?"
"Oh, I'm very good at not being seen when I don't want to be. Comes with the whole fae thing." She waves a hand airily. "I'd sneak in through your window, bring interesting books or unusual herbs, terrible jokes to make you laugh. You'd tell me about your training, about the politics between different factions, about dreams you had that you couldn't quite remember."
The picture she's painting feels right in ways I can't explain. "We became friends."
"Best friends. Partners in crime. You covered for me when the instructors got suspicious about missing items, and I..." She hesitates, something flickering across her features.
"And you what?"
"I kept you human," she says quietly. "All that training, all those lessons in emotional detachment and strategic thinking—it was turning you into something cold. Beautiful and deadly and absolutely terrifying, but cold. I reminded you how to laugh, how to be silly, how to care about things that didn't involve missions or politics or death."
Tears prick at my eyes without warning. "You saved me."
"We saved each other." She finally reaches out, taking my hand in both of hers. Her palms are warm and slightly calloused from years of magic work. "You gave me a family when I'd lost everything. I gave you a reason to stay human when the world was trying to make you into a weapon."
"What happened to your family?" I ask gently.
Her expression goes carefully neutral, but I catch the flash of old pain before she can hide it. "War. Politics. The usual stupid reasons people kill each other over." She shrugs, but it's too casual to be real. "Ancient history now."
Before I can push further, the sound of approaching footsteps draws our attention. Sinan appears in the doorway, his storm-gray eyes immediately taking in our joined hands and tear-streaked faces.
"Is everything alright?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice.
