Faey holds her hands in front of the iron grate separating the fire of the sigil heater from the rest of the carriage. She had forgotten her mittens in her shared room with Annakae, and—despite the offers of Osmund to go back and get them—she did not want to be a moment late for her meeting with the queen.

  She watches Osmund as he steps into the carriage after talking to the coachman. He gives her a slight smile before sitting down in the seat across from her and rubbing his back against the soft brown leather seating. His posture breaks as he slides down into the seat and begins to look out the window, watching the now leafless willows and library as the carriage turns around in the forecourt.

  He seems nervous being around her; he had not spoken to her on the walk to the carriage, and he didn’t seem intent on speaking to her—is he really that scared of Eue-Lysae? He can speak if he wants to, but she decides to break the silence first. “Osmund, I have a question about your brother.” The thought of Eue-Lysae reminding her of her recent observations of the high priestess’s behavior.

  Osmund looks away from the window. “Dyder or Georges?” The young priestess stares at him with her pale blue eyes, the look of concern changing to embarrassment as she realizes she wasn’t specific enough.

  She flushes slightly. “Dyder.” She pauses, watching Osmund nod before asking her question. “Do he and g?ri’Seliani have a history together?”

  “G?ri? I haven’t heard that one before.” He tries to parry the question; it’s not his business to tell her about the affairs of others.

  “That’s because it’s only used by priestesses to refer to their high priestesses when she’s not present.” She pauses, pouting at Osmund for trying to change the subject. “So, do the two know each other?”

  “Well…” he pauses, trying to think of the best way to dismiss the question, but the glare he is receiving reminds him so much of Eue-Lysae, cold, dead, misandrist stare that he struggles to find a fitting way to explain.

  “I’m taking that as a yes. So how do they know each other?” She takes her hands away from the heater and places them on her lap. Leaning in, he continues to stare at Osmund.

  “I can’t tell you that.” He decides that stonewalling is the best course—Floryana does this to him whenever he does so much as say good morning to her, so it should work on Faey just as well as it works on him. He quickly turns back to the window, breaking the eye contact to focus on the buildings and people they pass.

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  She stands from her seat and carefully moves across the carriage to sit next to Osmund. “Yes, you can.” She stares at him, hoping her glare comes through in his peripheral vision. “I want to know, and if you don’t tell me—I’m going to start guessing.”

  “I can’t tell you; it’s not your business.” He doesn’t think Dyder would be mad if he told her—the past is the past, and neither of them can go back to how things were; but if Dyder finds out that he caved to the pressure of a teenage girl, he would never live it down.

  “So... they knew each other well enough that you can’t even discuss it?” Faey wants to just tell him that she thinks there is a connection between Dyder and Eue-Lysae’s drinking, but that isn’t his business, and if a rumor about that gets out, it would be terrible for everyone involved.

  Osmund turns away from the window and back to Faey, who is now two hands away from his face, once again staring at him, only this time it is curiosity. He raises his hands between them. “Bela’Humel, please return to your seat. If someone sees this through the windows, they will get the wrong idea.” He doesn't want to embarrass her, but she must mind her own business.

  Faey flushes as she realizes how she is sitting. Removing her knees from the seat, she quickly backs away from Osmund and returns to her original spot. “Don’t think like a degenerate—don’t imply such things in the presence of a priestess. Are you no better than Georges?” While she has only met Georges on a few occasions, she has heard stories from both Eue-Lysae—Georges seems to be her preferred example of the ‘disdainful man’—and her sister, who encounters him at the bar she works at.

  “I am thinking no such thing; do not put words in my mouth.” He raises his hands up in front of him. “And he’s really not that bad... he’s just always been stuck in the shadow of Did—” he stops himself before finishing his eldest brother's name, knowing it will restart her questioning.

  Unfortunately, he did not stop himself soon enough.

  Faey leans in again, staring at the guard from across the carriage. “Can you at least tell me when they knew each other?” She asks, hoping for any sort of information regarding the two.

  Osmund groans and runs his hand down his face. “No, I can’t; why don’t you just ask High Priestess Seliani? I’m sure she would tell you.”

  The carriage bumps as the road changes from the cobblestone pathways to the wooden drawbridge to Herst Castle, much to the relief of Osmund and the annoyance of Faey.

  “I’m scared it’s a sensitive subject...” Faey trails off, stopping to think of a way to avoid mentioning her concern.

  “Then it might be best to just leave it be—let sleeping bears lie.” Osmund interjects, using her pause to put an end to the subject as the carriage comes to a stop out front of the main building of Herst Castle, not wanting the discussion to continue through the hallway.

  Ferran opens the door of the carriage. Osmund quickly stands and steps out, offering his hand to Faey to help her out down the steps. She shoos away his hand and leaves the carriage on her own.

  “Is Gekaryna vela’Herst still in the library?” Osmund asks Ferran.

  “Of course. She had only left to get Franheska.” The corner of the steward's mouth curls into a small, smug smile. “It is excellent to see you, Priestess Humel; Gekaryna vela’Herst is in the queen’s library; I shall escort you there.”

  Faey smiles and gives a slight bow as the carriage door is closed behind her.