Page 69 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

I almost laugh.

“What about you?” I ask. “What’s your favorite food?”

She thinks for a moment.

“Besides these?” She gestures at the turnovers. “My mother used to make this stew with root vegetables and herbs from the garden. Every full moon, she’d splurge on meat and make a big pot. She would say the full moon was a night for us to celebrate all together.” Her voice softens. “We would all dance together after dinner.”

There’s an openness she doesn’t usually let surface.

“Used to?” I ask quietly.

“She’s not around anymore.” Pain flickers across her face, there and gone.

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” she says.

After a moment, I ask, “What were you doing in the gardens?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she says too quickly.

“Me neither.”

“What’s keeping you up?” she asks.

I hesitate. “Rye’s trials.”

“He’ll survive. No way the king’s son doesn’t make it out.”

“It’s not only that; it’s what he’ll see.” I feel my voice drop. “The trials change you.”

I look up and find her gaze locked on me.

“Rye hasn’t awakened yet,” I continue. “He doesn’t know what I know, what I’ve learned about our father’s past.”

She lets the silence stretch.

“He’s reckless,” I say finally, protectiveness flaring hot in my chest. “And Father—” I search for words that won’t unravel everything. “I can’t risk it.”

“That’s why you hold back,” she says, with recognition in her tone.

“That’s why I hold back,” I agree, hating myself for it. “While the people starve.”

She’s looking at me differently now. Not with pity, but with understanding.

Neither of us speaks for a while. The kitchen fills slowly with the smell of apples and cinnamon. She checks the oven, and her whole face changes.

“Perfect,” she says, pulling the tray out and setting it between us. “Careful. They’re hot.”

I pick one up, tossing it between my hands. She does the same, and we bite in at the same time.

The pastry flakes against my lips, buttery and warm, the filling sweet and tart with apples soft enough to melt on my tongue and cinnamon lingering at the back of my throat. I close my eyes.

“Well?” she asks.

“I think I have a favorite food now.”

She lets out a bright and surprised laugh, and the sound settles something in me I didn’t realize was knotted.