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Kit closed his eyes, though not because he expected to get any sleep. He felt as if the blood was rushing through his body, making his heart pound and his breaths come shallow. Making him restless, hungry. He could feel Ty pressed up against his back, and warmth bloomed under his skin.

He was filled with a longing he could not define. He wanted to turn around and look at Ty face to face. He wanted to say, I’m not angry at you anymore, and You broke my heart, is all, and he wanted to tell Ty what it felt like now that the pieces of his heart were coming back together, wonderful and terrifying all at once.

Ty murmured something against the back of Kit’s neck, raising a wave of goose bumps over his skin. A moment later Ty’s arm draped over his waist, which sent Kit’s heart speeding into overdrive. He could feel Ty’s palm against his belly, through the thin fabric of his shirt. He could feel every fingertip, every breath, like a deep ache in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes against the beat of his own imagination: Ty’s hand moving lower, Ty moving closer, lips pressed to the nape of Kit’s neck…

Kit could hear the unevenness of his own breathing. In any other circumstance, he would have felt that he was doing a terrible job of hiding his feelings, his reactions. It was something of a relief that the signals that might have been obvious to someone neurotypical wouldn’t necessarily be obvious to Ty.

He took a ragged breath. “Ty?”

“Mmm?” Ty was clearly almost asleep. Kit envied him his calm.

“Who’s Anush?”

Ty yawned. “My roommate,” he said, and promptly fell asleep.

So it wasn’t my boyfriend. But Kit didn’t feel relieved. Anush was someone who shared Ty’s daily space, who was always in his life. Maybe they slept like this every night. No, surely they had their own beds? They must. Great, Kit thought, staring into the darkness. That didn’t help at all.

—

The next morning, when Elara came into Dru’s room carrying breakfast, Dru was already up and dressed in her training clothes. Silently, Elara set breakfast—bread, butter, honey, and tea—on the table, and backed away as she always did. Which made Dru uncomfortable, like it always did. She knew Elara was a servant and that her cringing away from Dru (or at least, that was what it felt like) was supposed to be a gesture of respect. But Dru hated it. The cringing made her feel like a bully to be avoided, not a regal presence to be honored.

“Elara,” Dru said. “Come over here.”

Elara came obediently, still holding the breakfast tray in her hands. “Is the food not to your liking, my lady?”

“I’m not a lady,” Dru said. “In so many ways.” She twisted around in her chair, looking up at Elara. “Was I right to assume I’d be training Ash today?”

Elara hesitated, but her inability to lie seemed stronger than her desire to avoid awkwardness. “No, for the Prince has gone with the Huntsman to inspect the new wall.”

Ah. The wall. “Sounds like an exciting day. Going to look at a wall. Maybe someday they’ll get really adventurous and inspect some windows. Cornices, even!”

Elara looked puzzled. “I am not sure what a cornice is, my lady.”

“Neither am I,” Dru admitted. “But still. What’s so special about a wall?”

“It is a barrier that cleaves Faerie in half,” said Elara. “It separates Seelie and Unseelie lands.”

Dru stared. “Are you serious? Never mind, you’re always serious. But—” For a moment she was lost for words. “Who built it?”

Black hair tumbled over Elara’s shoulders as she shook her head. “I’ve no idea. But the Huntsman seems proud of it.”

Dru tipped her head back, watching Elara narrowly. “Why did you bring me to see Clary last night?”

Elara stiffened fearfully. “Please don’t mention that to anyone else, my lady—”

“I wasn’t planning to. But you’ve been helping me, and I wanted to know why.”

Elara set down the breakfast tray, her hands shaking slightly. Enough to make Dru feel bad. Pressing Elara felt like poking at a harmless insect with a stick. You’ve got no choice, Dru reminded herself.

When Elara did speak, what she said was not at all what Dru had expected. “When I was younger, the Queen took a child from me,” she said. “I have not forgiven it. If the Queen hates you, then I must help you.”

Dru felt her lips part in surprise. “You had a child?”

“Only for a brief moment,” said Elara, and there was something in her voice that told Dru not to ask more questions about this particular subject. “A short time for a mortal, the blink of an eye for one of us.”

“You know what the Queen would really hate?” Dru asked, buttering a piece of bread. “If you let me escape.”

“She would kill me,” Elara said. “And it would be pointless. Even if you could escape the Court, you could never leave Faerie. There are no escape routes now. You would flee, and the Huntsman would find you, and then you would wish you were dead.” Elara glanced down at her bare feet. “I am sorry—”