There was a crowd in the town square. Even many streets removed from the center of the village, Cassie could feel the excitement humming in the air and hear people heading for the source. Nobody had rung the town's bell to call for a meeting, so what was happening?
She shut the door of the dressmaker's with a snap before Leora could hear the noise and go dashing off to get lost. Aldine had sent her on yet another errand—Cassie was beginning to suspect that Aldine was making up items for her to fetch and deliver to keep her away from the dresses. If that were the case, surely Aldine wouldn't notice if she was gone for a few extra minutes...
As she approached the square, the noise did not increase the way she'd expected it to. With so much of the town in one place, there should be an overwhelming hubbub of overlapping voices, but most were focused on listening. Cassie found a huge crowd filling the open area, both men and women gathered around the fountain. She could not see what was at the fountain, and she was too far away to hear. She was stuck behind a wall of boys who were occupied in a futile attempt to see over the heads of the adults. Most of their activity consisted of sporadic jumping, reporting they could see nothing, and shoving at each other when they stepped on their toes.
Determined to find out more, Cassie started squeezing through the tight ring of people, inching closer to the locus. She ended up beside George, still a row behind the front, who glanced over and acknowledged her with a smile before looking back toward the fountain. Now that she was closer, she could hear a single man's voice, droning on about civic duty.
"What's going on?" she whispered to George.
"They're planning another campaign," he muttered back. "King Marius is calling for more soldiers."
The carpenter in front of Cassie shifted for an instant, just long enough for her to see who was standing on the stones of the fountain, reading from a long scroll. Avery—it was Avery! Looking better than ever, in the well-dressed regalia of an army messenger. He was alive!
"Avery!" It was little more than a gasp, and few heard or marked her voice.
She had not killed him.
He was alive, and in Telyre, looking well-fed and unbeaten. Which would change if people knew where they had come from.
George, unfortunately, had not missed the way she had unthinkingly started forward.
"Friend of yours?" he whispered curiously.
Cassie didn't move. "No," she said quietly. What a lie it was. Servant or not, Avery had been her friend. A lifetime ago, it felt like. Seeing him again was shocking, but it also had her reeling with unexpected pangs of nostalgia. She missed him—the only friend she'd had for years, really, besides her sister—terribly. He was the only person who had never judged her for her choices. But if people knew they were connected somehow, questions would be asked, and questions would ruin her. And him.
Cassie squeezed back out of the crowd, hoping people would be too glad of the chance to see the messenger to pay attention to her. Even on the fringes of the town center she could feel the excitement, palpable in the air. Numb to it, Cassie walked in circles down aimless streets, until the noise and interest dissipated. He must be gone, then. Would any men sign up? Would they leave immediately, or would there be a few days to prepare? Where would Avery go next?
The sound of a hammer interrupted her thoughts. She looked up abruptly to see Avery at the end of the street, nailing the same notice he had been reading to the outer wall of a building. More in control of herself this time, she nevertheless quickened her pace, keen to catch him before he left.
He glanced at her as she approached, then immediately looked again, as though he doubted his own sight. "It is you," he said quietly.
As soon as she was close enough, she eagerly grabbed him by both arms. "I can't believe you're here!" she exclaimed. "I thought you were—"
He stiffened at the touch. Cassie released him and moved back two steps. She had been with peasants for too long, grown too used to their familiar touches. She did not have the right to grab him. Not after what she had done to him.
"What are you doing here?" he whispered. "I thought you would be—"
Mirroring his stance, Cassie planted her feet and folded her arms. "After they caught us, I...I ran."
"Here?"
"Not right away," Cassie admitted, wanting to avoid mentioning the Gemmaros. Something told her that was not information they wanted shared. "But it was better than the alternative, and what are you doing here? I thought for sure when they took you that you would be elf fodder."
"Close to it," he admitted, a shadow crossing his face. "But I managed to make it through two battles before Lord Wyatt pulled me off the lines. He had me assisting him, then when the news came in about Citak he sent me running around gathering volunteers."
Cassie paused, unease brewing. "What news?"
"I shouldn't say," Avery said, grip tightening on the roll of papers he held.
She stared at him. "You're kidding me, right?"
"It's just...it's not even something most of the army officials know. I only know because of Lord Wyatt, and he only knows because—"
"And now you're going to tell me."
Avery hesitated, but Cassie waited patiently. She knew he did not fear her—he never had—it was one of his best qualities, but she had been persuading him to give her what she wanted for years. A few months of separation could not break him of the habit.
He tucked his hammer away in his bag before answering. "We started getting reports that Citak was building a new force. Two spots near the Fields of Rathell. Most of the generals believe the devils intend to sweep through the Fields and into the forest through there."
"They've tried before," Cassie said, shrugging. "Right?" The most decisive victories they had had in this never-ending war were fought in the shelter of the trees, where the plains-accustomed Citaken soldiers were lost, divided, and confused.
"Not with the numbers we're hearing," Avery murmured. "Lord Wyatt can't even figure where they've mustered these thousands from. And if they take the Fields back..."
The wind swirled around them, rustling the call for volunteers Avery had just posted. Cassie shivered. With winter setting in soon, if Esre lost their best land for crops it would be disastrous.
"Why now?" she asked quietly. "I thought their rainy season was underway. Seems a bad time of year for gathering an army."
Avery stuffed the rest of his papers into his satchel. "Seems the Citakens caught wind of the betrothal between the Trenorish crown prince and Esre's spare. They don't have much of a choice."
No, if the wedding had taken place without Citak knowing, they would have surprised them with the combined resources of Esre and Trenoriah. Cassie's father had worked on the betrothal contract for months. The war could have been ended with one last, decisive battle, they could have rescued Citak from the shackles of the devilish Findlays, and there would have been no more death or waste between the three kingdoms.
Instead, Queen Mag had balked at committing troops to the cause, negotiations had dragged on, and the Trenorish delegates had had too many issues traveling through the Esren forest to reach the Bergstrom court. Damn bandits made life too difficult all around. The king had tried so many times to wipe them out, and failed miserably every time.
And now the Citakens saw no option but to attack anew, with a bigger force than Esre expected. A desperate hope before Trenoriah and Esre could fully unite.
"They know that?" The news had not even been posted in Esre yet. How had King Charles discovered it?
"The Findlays always were notorious for their spies." It was sickening, the deviousness of those elves.
She couldn't let this happen. She could not sit in Telyre, sewing in Aldine's quiet, sunlit room, waiting for news to trickle in about another battle, another slew of deaths. Waiting to hear what else the poor would have to do without to feed another army.
She wanted to be a part of it.
"Take me with you," she said, impulsively seizing his sleeve.
"Where?"
"To camp. To join up."
He shook his head and his arm, dislodging her. "You're not allowed."
"You're the one who trained me!"
"And you'll notice I didn't say you're not capable." Avery allowed himself a small smile. "Able or not, there's the small matter of your..." He waved his hand in the direction of her chest.
She scoffed. "It's a small enough matter. What did you say I looked like in men's clothes?"
He scrubbed his hands over his face. "An angry rectangle?"
"See? There you go!" It wouldn't even be an impediment. She'd strap her chest down and be set.
"I couldn't protect you," he said. "There's too much going on at camp. You would be on your own."
So no different to the rest of her life, then. "If it comes down to it, I'll be the one protecting you," she promised. "If I'm discovered, I've never met you, it was all my idea, and nobody helped me."
"It will never work," Avery said, his eyes sliding shut, but it was a capitulation.
"Of course it will," Cassie said, bolstered by her victory. "You're on my side."
Avery looked the same way when she first convinced him to teach her to fight. "Always will be," he sighed, almost regretful.
Cassie had so much to do. She would have to get to Aldine's, collect her things—at least there were not many, and they were all still under her bed, ready to be swept back into her pack—and she would have to come up with a plausible excuse. What if Silvana came to Telyre while she was gone? The banisè would not be fooled by an easy lie. What if she didn't come back? What if the commanders were impressed by her fighting skills and asked her to stay on? It would be bad manners to refuse, yet she had obligations here, did she not?
First she had to wait for Avery to leave, along with anyone who might volunteer to join up, and then she would disappear herself. There was a road, Avery had told her, fairly well traveled, that would take them to the camp. If she reached the burnt shell of Enomrah, she'd gone too far. She could manage that, a simple walk by herself on a forest road.
When she turned a corner, she nearly ran into Wynne, carrying her routine basket of bread to her uncle.
"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed, pulling up short. "I didn't see you."
"Too much on your mind, Cassie?" Wynne said with a friendly smile.
"You could say that," Cassie admitted, fiddling with the handle of her knife. Too much energy. She needed to get moving.
Wynne looked at her more closely. "Are you well? What is it?"
"No, I'm—I'm fine, it's just—I have to leave." Less elegant than she had planned, but she had to let someone know. She couldn't just disappear with nothing but a note as an excuse.
"A secret assignation with that handsome soldier?" When Cassie gaped at her—surely she couldn't be talking about Avery—Wynne smiled. "I heard you two were whispering together, all comfortable. Should I tell James he has competition?" She was teasing Cassie. And why would James have anything to do with—
"I might follow him," she said, hoping it would sound as offhand as she intended.
"And do what?" Wynne asked, her look sharpening. "Be a camp woman?"
If all went according to plan, she would not be recognized as a man at all. "Why not? I've always wanted to see the army."
"Cassie, I know we haven't known each other that long, and I don't have the right to give you advice—" Wynne hesitated, biting her lip, before deciding to go ahead and do it anyway. "We've heard enough stories, and the front is not a kind place for anyone to be."
"Oh, but think of it," Cassie said, tugging on her cap. "I've heard stories, too—they say there's a special breeding and training farm just for the war horses. They're meant to be magnificent. And the way the soldiers march, the singing of the arrows...they're already writing ballads about these battles." The performances of the ballads had given her chills every time.
Wynne peered more closely at her. "This isn't about a man," she stated. "You want to see it."
Of course she did. Wasn't Wynne listening? "Don't you?"
"No," Wynne said flatly. "We sent enough of our men when the war started. And the stories they brought back..." She shook her head. "After Leora's father fell, Telyre decided they had given enough."
"It's different now." It was a different war, the stakes higher. This battle could end the entire war. "And I could—"
"You could what? Stand on the sidelines and watch these magnificent war horses in action?" Wynne was not teasing her. There was an edge to the question. "Or are you planning on becoming a general, feted by the king?"
Cassie frowned. "I can fight." Wynne should know that by now.
"I've heard some rumors of run-ins with bandits," Wynne acknowledged, pursing her lips. "Not quite the same as being a solider, though, is it?"
"I'm better trained than most men in this kingdom." Cassie's chin jutted out stubbornly. "Why should I not have the chance to defend it with them?"
"Because it is illegal!" Wynne hissed, dragging Cassie into the relative privacy of the shadow of her uncle's house. "You'll be found out, tortured, and the king will likely lop your head off himself!"
Cassie narrowed her eyes at Wynne. "If that happens, then at least I know who to revenge myself on." If Wynne turned her in, Cassie would hunt her down mercilessly—and if she was executed for the treason it was, she'd haunt her as a vengeful ghost.
Wynne's eyes grew wide in horror. "I would never...I would hope you know me well enough...I need you to see how dangerous it would be!" She clutched her basket more tightly to herself. "The law is iron. You of all people should understand the consequences of crossing it."
"I of all people...?"
"After living with those banisè. You've seen what happens when those lines are crossed, what it turns you into."
Cassie flashed hot with anger. "Are you talking about Skylar and Silvana?" she demanded.
"You know what they're like," Wynne said. "The way they have to live—"
Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to calm down. It did not work. "Wynne, they are brave and kind." Far braver and kinder than she deserved, that was certain. "They are my friends." She clenched her fist with a frustrated noise. "You people are so prejudiced!" It was not fair, to the Gemmaros, or to so many other decent people in this world, who were shunted to the fringes of it simply because they did not seem to fit the expectation of what was acceptable.
"We welcomed you willingly enough," Wynne replied hotly. "In case that slipped your mind. Despite whatever questionable things are in your past." She looked as angry as Cassie felt. "Are we not also your friends? Do we not also deserve some respect? Even if we don't spend our time thinking up ridiculous ways to get ourselves killed?"
The urge to hit something—or someone—was palpable, a living thing within her breast. The reminder that she was only in Telyre by their charity was as welcome as a spit to the face. And she could hurt the baker right back, could sneer at the pitiful excuse for habitation this pathetic village offered.
But she shouldn't.
Although Cassie had never run from a clash of swords, had only ever enjoyed the way violence seemed to sing in her blood, she did not want to fight with Wynne. It made her feel sick to her stomach, even as the anger roiled in her muscles.
She had to walk away. Before she said or did something to regret. Continuing the argument was not worth losing one of the few friendships she had.
"Give your uncle my regards," she said stiffly.
Without waiting for Wynne to hum a goodbye, she spun on her heel and made for Aldine's as swiftly as she could without running. Wynne had thought it worth reminder her that she had been taken in, that she had nowhere else to go. And had practically said she would turn Cassie in—had dared to threaten her. Angry tears pricked her eyes, stinging her on faster. The only thing worse than crying over that disaster of a conversation would be crying over it in the street.
She did not want to see another person as long as she lived. She kept her watery eyes fastened to the ground, trusting her feet to take her home.
She should have trusted her feet to veer around other people.
"Watch out!"
The warning came too late, Cassie getting knocked to the ground by an enormous stack of bags. Backside smarting, she glared up to find James peering around his burden with concern.
"You all right there?—Oh, it's you!" He grinned cheekily at her. "You have to stop falling for me."
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she said, trying to sound as unfriendly as possible as she stood and dusted herself off.
He shifted slightly to better talk to her. "Well, I was on my way back to the stables, but I found myself detained by a beautiful lady."
Of course he was bragging to her about some other woman he was chasing. The man had no shame. Heart still rankling from how she had left things with Wynne, the last thing Cassie wanted right now was to hear about his latest conquest. And what did he hope to gain by mentioning it to Cassie? Congratulations? A show of jealousy? He would get neither. He would not get satisfaction from her.
She had stopped herself from unleashing on Wynne, but she could not keep the venom from pouring out now. "For once, please go do your job. Those horses must be the most neglected in the kingdom, with all the time you waste chasing after women."
He blinked, the smile sliding off his face like dew evaporating. Before he could say anything, she was pushing past, not caring that doing so would throw him off balance. He was left trying to keep his bags from falling, while Cassie turned the corner and disappeared into Aldine's stairwell, breathing too heavy against the painful pressure in her throat. All she had wanted to get to her room and pack. Why did he have to get in her way? Why did Wynne have to—not that she should have expected Wynne to understand, every other person in her life had reacted the same way Wynne had, with disbelief and dismay. Except for Avery, Skylar, and Silvana.
And James.
The first time she had drawn a sword on James, he had been...delighted. Had met her, stroke for stroke, before upending her and showing her how much more she had to learn. And had never hinted at it being something she should be ashamed of, much less hide. Had never been afraid of it. Of her.
He did not deserve the way she had spoken to him.
Later. She would deal with it later.
For now, there was too much to do.
She had to pack and set off at once, to catch up to Avery before Wynne could raise the alarm against her. She would have to make some kind of excuse to Aldine as to why she was running away with no notice. She would not get a farewell with anyone, which Leora might never forgive her for. And Wynne—were they to part unreconciled?
She might not return from battle. Casualties were common. It would be unforgiveable if her last words to Wynne were so angry.
Before gathering her belongings, before making further plans, she sat down and wrote Wynne a letter. She was not wrong and she was not sorry, but she did regret they had fought.
She thanked Wynne for her friendship. She would have been so much lonelier without it, and without the baker. Swallowing her pride, she begged Wynne to keep her destination a secret.
You can tell people I'm visiting a cousin on the other side of the forest. She supposed she could call Avery a cousin. They were close enough. The next time we see each other, I will have an exciting story, but I will miss you dearly while I am gone. I shall return when I can.
She sealed the letter with Wynne's name written on the front, then turned to packing. There was nothing: a more masculine cap, her banisè clothes from Skylar, and a purple rock Leora had found somewhere and given her, and that she was loath to leave behind. She would nab a loaf of bread from the kitchen on her way out.
As she changed into her old trousers, Cassie's hand hovered over the knife belt she had laid on the bed. It would be conspicuous. It always had been, but what she was doing was more important than her pride, or even than her family ties. She needed go unnoticed for as long as possible.
She made herself pull her hand back, instead tucking the slender knife Silvana had given her into her boot. It would be better defense than nothing, although she was unlikely to need it.
As for the cap...again she hesitated, this time tugging on her hair.
If she was to do this, there could be no half measures. No man would have the braids she did, cursed or not. At long last, she would have to muster the courage she had always lacked.
It was time.
Fingers shaking, she picked up her enameled knife and sliced through one braid. Then the next. And the next. Until her head was nearly shorn, her scalp feeling unnaturally light—and cold.
She left the braids coiled next to her re-sheathed weapon.
She was ready.
Cap on but feeling all wrong now, Cassie tucked the rock into her pocket, dropped the letter for Wynne in the breakfast room, and opened the front door.
James, fist raised to knock on the door, nearly punched her in the face.
"Oh," he said, wrenching his arm back. "That's...bad timing."
For once, he was not smiling. Although he had pulled his arm back, he had not stepped away from the door to give her space, leaving an impression of the coiled preparedness of a hunter, so at odds with his relaxed veneer. So rarely this still, this serious.
She would not have the chance to apologize to Wynne in person; she should at least apologize to James. She had been so rude, she could already feel the shame squirming around in her chest.
"Going somewhere?" he asked before she could begin.
"No," she lied instinctively.
For once, he remained silent, glancing at the loaf of bread in her hands and raising an eyebrow at her.
"Well—yes," she amended. "I'm...visiting family. A few days away." She glanced down the street, unable to meet his eyes. "I should be back in a few weeks." The only person she could see was Sarita, trailing past the buildings with the open pages of a songbook dragging behind her like the train of a gown, who did not seem aware of their presence. It still felt too exposed for Cassie. She opened the door wider for them, inclining her head for James to follow her. "If I could...?"
He followed no farther than the dark entryway.
"I'm...I should apologize," Cassie blurted. "For earlier. I—it was wrong of me to—"
"It was you. In case you weren't aware."
Interrupted before she could really get underway, Cassie had trouble catching his meaning. "What?"
"I was talking about you holding me up. When you went off on me about chasing women."
What was it he had said—something about being detained by a beautiful woman? Of course she had assumed he meant someone other than her.
"I—" James thought she was beautiful? "Oh." Unlikely. Impossible. Wynne had made some comment as well, that Cassie had forgotten in the aftermath of their fight, about James having competition. With the way he acted, however... "But I thought—"
"I think I can guess what you thought," he said, still not moving. "If you want me to leave you alone, I will. It's a small town, Cassie." He cleared his throat. "No one deserves to feel unsafe."
"No, it's—it's not that." It was the truth. For all that they were standing in a tight, dimly lit, enclosed space together, Cassie did feel safe. "It's just..." He waited. "Lily wants you," she offered as evidence. She wasn't the only one, Cassie was sure. Didn't that mean he acted like this with everyone? That every woman was a target for his charms?
He considered the information, then discarded it with a shrug. "I don't want Lily."
"Then...what do you want?" There was a tightness in her chest, an unfamiliar breathlessness.
"I want to know what happened," he said at last. "If I don't make you feel unsafe. The last time I saw you, I thought we were making progress." They had been. They had sparred, they had talked, Cassie might have even smiled. "Then I see you today, you bite my head off, and next thing I know you're disappearing to...visit family." His tone made it clear how believable he found her lie.
"It wasn't you," Cassie admitted. "I...I had a fight with Wynne. Right before I saw you. It was bad."
He nodded, absorbing the truth. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
She had the option? This day was full of surprises. And yet another: she did want to tell him about the argument, about how upset she'd gotten. But she couldn't. If even Wynne had been horrified by the thought of her fighting, she'd never get a man to see reason. And the fewer people knew her likely destination, the better.
Regretfully, she shook her head. "I just...need some time," she said. "Need to get away, clear my head." If that was what it took as an excuse for her disappearance, she would take it. It should keep them from suspecting anything for a few days, at least.
Whatever she had expected from James, it was not comfort. "It will work itself out," he told her, sounding sincere. "Wynne cares for you. Arguments are a natural part of any relationship."
Her muscles relaxed slightly. He was right. It wouldn't ruin her friendship with Wynne. When she returned, she would set things right.
"Take us, for example," he said, a smile at last entering his words. "I can't think of a conversation we've had that hasn't turned into a fight, so we must have the strongest relationship in Telyre."
He succeeded in drawing a reluctant chuckle from her. James always did know how to make people laugh. It was a valuable quality in anyone, but particularly a friend. Or acquaintance and occasional foe, as in his case.
"How long will you be away?"
Cassie hesitated. "Not sure." There was no telling how long it would take for all the recruits to gather and train, or how soon battle might be met. Or whether she might be immediately caught and turned over to the Guard.
He nodded, mulling it over. "I'll miss you." When she stared at him, he corrected himself. "We all will. Especially the horses."
Cassie smiled at that. She would miss the animals as well, perhaps even miss her evening chores mucking out the stables. "Give them lots of treats while I'm gone," she said. "I've spoiled them quite a bit."
"I'm sure they deserve it," he replied.
"They most certainly do," she told him with mock severity. "Fine creatures, the lot of them. Despite their brute of a master."
James grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light of the stairwell. "Fair enough." Eyes more amused now, he looked her over cursorily. "Your knife," he said, snagging at her bare hip. "You aren't leaving it here?"
Reflexively, Cassie's fingers brushed the spot her dagger always hung, grasping only air. "It would attract too much attention on the journey," she said by way of explanation.
He nodded, concern creasing between his eyes. "You can't go into the forest unarmed."
"I'm not," she assured him. His worry was almost touching. "I've got a throwing knife Silvana gave me, just in case."
His breath came out in a strangled choke. "Silvana...gave you a knife?"
"Yes," Cassie said slowly.
"You didn't trade, or—or pay for it somehow?" James asked intently. "Not loaned, just—just gifted?"
"Trade?" Cassie screwed up her face, trying to remember. "I don't think so. I was leaving, and that morning she tossed it at me and just said, 'Here.'" Silvana hadn't said anything else, but it had felt as close to a goodbye as they would get. "Why?"
James stared at her, as though seeing her for the first time. "The Trenorish—you knew they were Trenorish, yes?—they have all these customs around gift-giving. It's an entire code in their culture."
"I studied it once," Cassie said. What was his point? "Gifts for every occasion, event, social strata—it sounds exhausting." Not to mention expensive.
He nodded slowly. "But the gifts—the type matters. And weapons...weapons are only given to forge a familial bond."
"Familial—what?"
"It's a part of their betrothal ceremonies. And at weddings, the siblings of the groom will give weapons to the bride, officially marking her as part of the family."
"Did Skylar and I get married without me knowing?" Cassie tried to joke, but for once, James was not smiling.
"Or on very rare occasions, they are given to a friend, one whom the gifter feels is equal to a sister or brother in their heart. It is—Silvana gave it to you?"
"She doesn't..." Cassie paused, collected her thoughts. He was saying Silvana had given her a knife because she felt Cassie was like her sister? "She never...said she cared that much."
"Then you weren't listening." The expression on his face—was he impressed? That couldn't be it. "Defeater of bandits and kin of banisè, Cassie...and I don't even know your family name."
"It isn't important," Cassie said, trying to ignore the pang of fear at the reminder.
"Now, that," James said softly, seeming to get closer. "Out of what I feel is a very long list, I have a feeling that is your biggest lie yet."
She would not flinch. She would not show him that he was right. She would not be weak and give herself away that easily.
"Unless it is Gemmaro now," he said, suddenly easing the tension away with a comfortable facetiousness. "Maybe Silvana thought she saw you and Skylar doing some obscure Trenorish marriage custom and this was her way of avoiding an announcement."
Cassie breathed a laugh. "She would."
She wished Silvana was here, so she could ask. Did the banisè really feel that way about her? Had Cassie behaved poorly in not understanding the magnitude of the gift Silvana had offered, and accepting it without a word? She even missed her quiet, practical company.
Not that the company she currently had was poor. Even without speaking, without needing to make the moment a joke, James' presence was comfortable. Easy to enjoy.
She had lingered too long.
"I need to go," Cassie admitted on a sigh. She had enjoyed this time with James, far more than she had expected, but it could not last. She had a journey ahead.
"Of course," he said, all courtesy. "I don't mean to keep you."
She took a step forward, expecting him to move back and open the door. She waited for a breath, but he did not move. Was he planning on blocking her in the house all day?
The easiest solution would have been for him to exit first, then let her go, but he seemed oblivious that there even was a problem. He had not moved at all—unless he was leaning in closer to her?
Cassie moved to the side, trying to squeeze through the only available space to get to the handle. Instead, she managed to trip over his foot. She felt his hand at her waist, steadying her, helping her regain balance.
She could feel the warmth of it sinking into her bones, ensnaring her. For an endless moment, she forgot entirely about what she was trying to do, where she was trying to go. She forgot about the war entirely.
She was rooted to the spot, staring up at the man in—it was not shock, not really, but what was it? Like discovering the world anew, in all its terrifying power, and wanting it all for herself?
Something akin to an inferno was rising in Cassie, and she couldn't tell if it was pleasant or torturous. What was happening to her? Her heart and stomach had somehow swapped places, or perhaps her heart was lodged in her throat and it was her brain that had switched with her stomach, for all that Cassie could think about was an unidentifiable hunger, an all-consuming need that she had never known before. She was no longer in control of any part of herself, which must be the only explanation for why she leaned forward, closer to James. As if they weren't already near enough, her body sought to close the miniscule distance, and she wasn't the only one affected, for she could hear the short, sharp breaths that James was taking. He had not looked away from her either, and his free hand was rising, coming up past her waist, past her shoulder, skimming along her neck with a gentleness that almost made Cassie's eyes flutter closed, until his fingers had reached her cheekbone.
Cassie wished—she wasn't sure what, but she desperately wanted something, and if she didn't get it soon—Aldine bustled into the house and pulled up short, her timing for once miraculous as the door knocked into James, breaking them apart.
Her words, on the other hand, were less welcome. "I can come back later," she said, pausing in the doorway, a smile hovering around her mouth.
Cassie flamed red down to her toes. The spell between them snapped abruptly, and she flinched away as James stumbled back into the wall.
"Aldine! You're back!" It was the dumbest, most foolish words she'd ever heard, and they were coming from her own mouth. If she weren't already about to die of humiliation, that would have sealed her fate.
"So I am," the seamstress replied wryly. "Should I go out again?"
Blowing out a frustrated breath, James raked a hand through his hair. "No," he said, finally looking away from Cassie. "I need to get back to work, and Cassie is in the process of leaving."
Aldine's amusement turned to confusion. "Leaving?" she asked. "Where are you going?"
It was easier than Cassie had expected to make her excuses to Aldine. James left without saying anything further to her, giving her the privacy and clarity of mind to bid the kind seamstress farewell. Aldine remained confused, but did not attempt to delay her, which was another unasked-for blessing.
That final business taken care of, Cassie set off. No matter that James' low voice and tender touch stayed with her long after Telyre was behind her. She couldn't afford to allow it to haunt her, and she certainly didn't want the memory of that moment to linger. Cassie had to put it out of her mind. She had an appointment with treason.