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“It has your name on it,” Ziku says. “I would find that difficult to prevent.”

When he has gone, I put the note beside my cup.

Daurek has seen the seal.

“I’m thinking about meeting him,” I say.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to sound as though someone’s offered you boiled bark.”

“I prefer it roasted.”

I laugh, and he smiles reluctantly. I want to kiss him for trying.

Then he looks at the note again.

“Ask him about the work. He’s heard what you can do. Find out what he expects.”

“I will.”

I fold the note small enough for my pocket. Daurek keeps me company until I’ve finished, and when I stand he comes with me.

The garden smells of wet stone. We stop beside the pool while the last family gathers towels and empty seed boats. A child offers Daurek a dripping hull for inspection; her mother catches it before he can accept.

“Tomorrow,” she tells the child. “You’re meant to be in bed.”

The child looks at me, considering an appeal. I shake my head.

“I can’t help you. I’m very tired myself.”

She takes that poorly. Her mother takes her home.

Daurek offers his arm again. “Are you tired?”

“Yes. I still wanted to come.”

We walk beyond the hedge to the bench. I sit close to him and rest my uninjured hand on his thigh. His leaves shift against my hair as he bends to kiss me.

For a little while, I stop composing letters in my head.

When he lifts his mouth, I reach up to the leaves at his cheek. A white petal is caught beneath one. I free it and leave it on the bench beside me.

“Do you always get this many afterward?” I ask.

His hand settles at my waist. “I haven’t had much reason to find out.”

I remember the footbridge, his face when he stood up, and how he waited while I put a flower beneath his antler. My dress feels suddenly too warm at the collar.

“I liked yesterday.”

“So did I.”

He says it close to my ear. I turn into another kiss, feeling him smile before his mouth covers mine.

When it ends, my hand stays at his cheek where the petal was. He said his people choose the bond in the deep wood. What does that look like? Has anyone ever asked him? I kiss him again instead of asking, and both questions stay in my mouth.

Later, I lean against him. I’ve been here long enough to know the evening sounds: the kitchen shutters closing, a keeper calling from the western path, Reivaka’s knife tapping a trellis as she checks the growth.