“I know,” I said slowly, tapping the window frame. “Please, I’d feel better if I knew there was another exit.”
Taran humored me by kneeling in front of the window. It was too narrow even when he turned to the side, which meant Marit probably couldn’t fit through it either.
“Do you want to leave?” Taran asked when I bit into the side of my cheek in worry.
“Right now?”
“Sure. I’ll have Marit get the horses.” His face was utterly serious.
“We can’t just leave. We don’t know anything yet.”
“We absolutely can. There’s a benefit to having a reputation like mine—I’ll explain that I forgot that I previously arranged a threesome back in the City, and we’ll just go. Nobody will think anything of it.”
When I forced a laugh, Taran got to his feet and covered my hand on the window frame with his own.
“I don’t want you to be afraid,” he said, voice intent. “You don’t have to come tonight.”
“I can’t let being afraid stop me from doing anything, or I’ll never do anything again. I just…want to be ready.” I took a deep breath. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan? We’ll have what is sure to be an awkward dinner, during which you are likely to hear many unkind words about the Maiden, but you shall be your typical model of tact until we go home. That’s the plan.”
I snorted at that blithe assessment of the risks.
“Taran, the Shipwright was justmurderedby the Maiden, and now he’s brought the Lord of the Noonday Heat to his home, probably to help him plot revenge. Aren’t you worried what they might do?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Because we are not going to get between Death and the Maiden.”
I closed my eyes, fighting back the memory of the roof collapsing over my head at Ereban. The blast that took Taran’s life on the beach.
“The entire world is between the two of them.”
Taran’s hand lifted from mine, but I didn’t open my eyes until he brushed a strand of hair away from my cheek.
He was uncharacteristically solemn, but if anything, he was calmer.
“Don’t be afraid. You should realize that what happened to you was Wesha’s fault. She locked her husband away from his family, his power, and his home for three hundred years, and all the mortals were trapped in there with him. But that’s over now.”
I didn’t believe that. Not after what I’d seen. “I was at Ereban three years ago. About to take my vows when…the riots started.” When I started the first riot. “The other maiden-priests weren’t any threat to Death. He killed them out of spite. He just lifted one hand”—I waved mine, to show Taran the gesture that had forever changed my life—“and they were gone. In one second. Everyone I knew. There wasn’t enough left of them after the fires burned out to fill a single funeral boat.”
Taran leaned in, sympathetic but undeterred. “Wesha abandonedher priests, hung you out to answer for her sins. She practically fed you to Death. I would never do that to you.”
I took a deep breath. That wasn’t what I was worried about. But it made me feel better to hear it.
He didn’t even know he was doing it, but it felt like Taran was still keeping his promises to me. He said he’d finish this.
I nodded tightly, and Taran wrapped his arms around me, over the cloak, to brush a kiss against my temple. I leaned into the warm solidity of his body, anchoring myself in his embrace and listening to his breathing until my heart slowed.
“Now, are you ready?” he asked again.
I put my hand on the ties of my cloak, hesitating to take it off.
“I understand the point of the dress, but I look ridiculous.”
Long before we even left the City, I’d explained my feelings about appropriate clothing to Taran, and he’d nodded thoughtfully. The resulting dress had a wide, black band at the waist, one thick enough to conceal two sheathed knives. And while the skirt was slit all the way up to my hips, the opaque panels of black hammered silk overlapped enough to cover my legs. The problem was the bodice, which theoretically covered me from collarbones to wrist—with a gold mesh so thin and fragile that not only the shape but thecolorof my nipples was visible through the transparent fabric.
“The point of the dress?” Taran lifted one eyebrow.
“So that I don’t look like a maiden-priest.”
