Then her face fell and she let go.
Caspian didn’t look at me.
But I knew he felt it.
He kept walking to the north table, one hand at his cuff.
The fabric at his wrist pulled tight, as if his hand had closed around something under it. His Mark.
The heat kept climbing.
Caspian’s jaw tightened.
Then his hand uncurled, and he reached for his cup.
Still without looking at me.
That was when I understood.
Caspian knew.
Whatever my Mark had done in attunement, whatever had reached across the circle and made the room go quiet, it hadn’t only happened to me.
It had happened to him too.
Cosima leaned in and whispered something in his ear.
Caspian answered without turning his head.
I couldn’t hear the words, and in that moment, I really wished I could read lips.
But I couldn’t.
Delphine looked from Caspian to me.
“Astra?”
I stood too quickly.
The seat scraped against the floor.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?”
I didn’t know which answer would be worse.
For staring at Caspian Ashford while she sat across from me with Zenith Tower hanging over her head.
For knowing Kieran had seen the tower and refused to name it.
For having no useful thing to give her except bread and a lie about paperwork.
“I’ll find you later,” I said.
That was probably another lie.
Delphine didn’t call after me.
