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Then she comes around the board so quickly that I let go of Daurek’s hand to catch her.

Her arms close around me. She smells of flour and the soap we always bought and the warm kitchen beyond the stall. I bury my face in her shoulder. I have imagined telling her everything, but for a few breaths I cannot say a word.

“There you are,” she says into my hair.

I hold her harder.

She draws back and puts a floury thumb against my cheek. There is flour on both our faces now. I can feel myself smiling too much to care.

“You look happy.”

“I am.”

She makes the small, undignified snort I had missed most of all and pulls me back against her.

“Good.”

Tovi emerges from the kitchen with a tray. He sees me, says my name, then looks past me and nearly tips the whole thing.

“Put that down,” Asha says.

He does. By the time he has hugged me, there is flour on the back of my coat as well.

“This is Daurek,” I say.

“I had worked that out.” Tovi looks up. “I didn’t think you meant that big.”

“I was quite clear.”

“The innkeeper owes me a drink.”

Daurek inclines his head beneath the awning. “It is good to meet you.”

Asha studies his face. New leaves frame his brow, but they leave his expression easy to see. He lets her look. Then her gaze drops to his hand, which I have taken again without thinking.

“Have you eaten?” she asks.

“Not since early this morning.”

“You could have said.”

She goes behind the board, breaks the end from a fresh loaf and puts it into my free hand. The heel is still my favorite part. I blow on it while she finds a much larger piece for him.

Tovi brings out two stools, looks at Daurek and takes one away again.

“There’s a bench at the back.”

Daurek takes the bread. “I can stand.”

“You’ve been walking for three days. You can sit down in my kitchen,” Asha says. “Tovi, move the flour.”

I catch Daurek’s eye. He takes a bite of the bread and looks appropriately pleased. Asha sees it. Some of the stiffness leaves her shoulders.

“You’ve got a little—” I reach toward the seam beside his mouth.

He bends for me without being asked. I brush away a crumb with my thumb. When I lower my hand, Asha is watching us.

“I see,” she says.