I held the brooch tighter.
“They gave me my dead mother’s brooch and told me I should be grateful to stand beside Caspian Ashford in three weeks.”
Kieran looked toward the quad. No smart-ass response came to fill the silence.
“Quill told you.”
“Quill gave me Caspian. Juno gave me a word.”
“Untethered.”
“The Council word.”
His eyes came back to mine.
“Did she give you the other one?”
I looked at the brooch. The wren’s lifted wing caught the moonlight and held it.
“Star-Marked.”
Kieran stopped looking at the brooch and looked at me.
For once, the cleverness didn’t get there first.
“Who told you that?”
“Juno.”
“That sounds like Juno.”
“Is it bad?”
“Bad things are rarely that old.”
“You’re dodging.”
“A little.”
The wind moved between us.
Kieran looked out over the quad. I followed his gaze and saw one dark window lit across the way.
“Ashford’s window is lit,” Kieran said.
“Good.”
That brought Kieran’s eyes back to me.
“Good?”
“Let him wonder what I do when no one is holding a basin under my hand.”
Kieran’s laugh came short and surprised. It warmed the space between us for exactly one second before the cold took it back.
“You didn’t come here to talk about Ashford,” he said.
“No.”
