“I’m right, right?” Prisha asks with her signature smirk.
“Yes, pretty much.”
“I knew the Red Woman wasn’t bad. I’ve been researching her for weeks. But to think it was you this whole time.” Pride shines through the words. Pride. Like after my lies I can be forgiven. Like she truly respects what I’m trying to do.
“I’m not going to tell Mom and Dad,” she says calmly.
“I…”
Mother glides into the room. “I want that salve on the Bloodlurst patients immediately.”
Prisha and I both twist around and spread the ointment on the bandages. Jatin joins us, squeezing my hand and lacing the wool with the brown goo.
My mother smiles knowingly. “I knew you two liked each other. You know, we never told Adraa to write to you, Jatin. She did that on her own. She would run off as soon as she received one of your letters when she was younger.”
I give Jatin a sideways look. “I had to correct your arrogance or prove you wrong, that’s all.”
“Yeah, me too.” And he winks.
“Well, I personally always enjoyed your letters,” Prisha interjects.
Good Gods. Prisha is making it very hard for me not to throttle her. I push her shoulder, but her smirk only grows.
“I’m glad you liked them,” Jatin says, laughing.
Mother smiles. “We just have to get through your ceremony now.”
I try for a reassuring smile. Only Jatin catches that it’s more like a grimace.
Jatin and I wander out to the training ground, escaping the chaos of the clinic and my clever little sister for a few minutes. Of course any of the staff could be peering out a window. But they can’t hear what we are saying.
“If possible, I feel as if I know you even better,” Jatin says as the crisp air knocks into us.
“Was it watching me pour blood in a cauldron or freak out every time my sister even moved in our mother’s direction?”
“Both. You know, your sistercouldhelp,” Jatin says.
“I don’t know if I can watch out for the both of you.”
“That hurts.” Then he gets serious. “When you turn eighteen, masquerading as Jaya won’t be as easy. We need to think of another way to get information. Your sister—”
“My sister hasn’t been trained in the same way. She’s gifted, she’s never had to worry about the ceremony or fighting for herlife.”
Jatin gives me a look. “Are you scared about your royal ceremony, Adraa?”
I step up onto the fountain, hang off Retaw’s stone hand and swing to the other side. Jatin jumps up on the rim as well, circling with me. We start a game of chase, my mission to avoid, his to capture. He tries to win, to look me in the eye, but talking about my shortcomings in front of him? It’s easier to not facehim.
“It’s weird hearing you call me Adraa.”
“You prefer Smoke?” he teases.
“Do you prefer Jatin?”
I swing left and suddenly he’s in front of me. I guessed wrong.
“Yes.” He smiles.
“Good to know,” I breathe.
