Now I knew why. Or at least I had an idea. It wasn’t the time to press him for the whole story.
I returned to the stave rack with the leather still in my hand.
It had creased where I’d held it too tightly.
I smoothed it once with my thumb and started again.
“Does Ashford know?” Marsh asked.
“That we felt it?”
“That she didn’t seal.”
“He’ll know.”
“Will he understand?”
“Yes. Ashford, of all people, will understand. He was built for this. He knows how the bonds work better than any of us.”
Marsh tipped his head back against the wall.
“If he is decent about this,” Kieran said, “that will be worse.”
“No doubt about it.”
“You could have argued.”
“Icould have.”
“Terrible of you not to.”
This time the corner of his mouth did move.
Astra’s Mark pulled through the room again.
Harder.
I set the stave back down.
Marsh’s smile disappeared.
The three lines of it came through in order: Ashford first, cold and sweet; Marsh second, green and bright enough to hurt; mine last, leather and heat, held too long under the sleeve.
Astra’s Mark reached toward all three and chose none of us cleanly.
My first thought was not noble.
My first thought was that Ashford had touched her and still did not get to keep her for himself.
Then the thought passed, and shame came after it, late and deserved.
The Council would see danger in the open lines.
Marsh hissed through his teeth.
“She is going to make them furious.”
“She already has.”
