In a landscape of unbroken browns and tans, under a sky that was endless blue all day and star-speckled black at night, green was the color of wealth. Green meant thriving plants, which meant thriving people.

The grass was brown. Jae frowned at it, dizzy for a moment, and sagged against the fountain until the spinning sensation passed. She heaved a deep breath, willing herself to move, to just get back to work. She had to return the rest of the water, the little bit that sloshed at the bottom of the massive jug. But the water was so tempting….

A shadow flickered at the arched entryway into the courtyard. She reached for the jug, willing whoever it was to go about their business and not bother her. But the person stepped into the garden silently—barefoot, not causing the pebbles to grind. Jae’s gaze flicked sideways, and she was relieved to see it was only Tal, her brother.

He caught her glancing, and smiled, then waved with an open hand, which signaled that no Avowed were near enough to see or hear him. It would be safe for them to talk. Even so, he walked toward her silently, and then stopped next to her on the path, brushing his hand against her elbow in a silent greeting.

They were twins, but he moved through the world with an ease she’d never mastered. It was in the way he glided from the doorway to join her; it was how he sat near her, light and relaxed, as if the Curse didn’t weigh him down at all.

He nudged her elbow again, and when she glanced down at his hand, he opened his palm to reveal a date. He pressed it into her hand and murmured, “You look exhausted.”

She had to lean in to hear him, and she chewed the fruit for a second before answering, “I’ve been outside all day. Be careful. Lady Shirrad was looking for you.”

“I know, but she just keeps missing me.” He gave Jae a sideways smirk. Lady Shirrad adored Tal, treated him with kindness she never bothered to show anyone else. He was the only one of the Closest who ever ate or drank his fill, a privilege he earned by smiling to Lady Shirrad’s face and saving his scorn for when her back was turned. But he used her favor to get away with scrounging up the few scraps he could, and he shared these first with Jae and then with the other Closest. Sometimes Jae thought his position as the most favored of the Closest was the only thing that had saved her from dying of exhaustion or sunsickness.

“Lucky you,” she said. She didn’t know how he managed it. The Curse would never allow them to lie with words, so Tal used his body instead, acting for all the world as if he adored Lady Shirrad. His smile was his only weapon, but he wielded it ruthlessly.

She didn’t have Tal’s advantages. They looked similar enough, but the sharp features that were handsome on him were awkward and boyish on her. Tal was gorgeous and knew it; Jae was a mess of scraped hands and gangly limbs. Where he wore his hair in long curls, bound at the nape of his neck, she kept hers cropped almost to her scalp. Considering that she was nearly as flat and curveless as he was, only the fact that she had a dirt-stained dress instead of loose pants made it clear from a distance that one of them was a girl.

She stood and took a step toward the jug, but the dizziness hit again. She paused, waiting for the sensation to pass, but Tal was at her side this time. He guided her back to the fountain carefully, his hand gentle on her arm. While she waited for the world to stop spinning, he grabbed the smaller water skin she’d been using for the plants and held it out to her. He pressed it into her hands, urging her to drink.

She tried to push it back, turned away, as if not seeing it would suppress the longing. “Not allowed,” she said, mouthing the words because her throat was too dry to do much else.

He understood anyway, frowned, and didn’t let her release her grip on the skin. “Tell me if the Lady actually said that.”

She didn’t have to obey an order from him, another Closest, but if she didn’t answer, he’d ask it as a question. The Curse would force her to answer that. No matter who asked, the Closest were compelled to answer all questions. So, to spare herself, she said: “She ordered me not to waste any. Tal, I have to work.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “Traitor’s blood means a lifetime of toil. But you can’t toil if you die of sunsickness. So you have to drink. She might as well have ordered you to.”

Jae shook her head. If Tal explained that to Lady Shirrad, the Lady would laugh and let him drink what he wanted. If Jae tried to explain it, the best she could hope for was that Lady Shirrad would roll her eyes and tell her to get back to work. Jae knew full well what the lady had meant by her order.

But Tal was right. Lady Shirrad hadn’t actually ordered her not to drink, and Jae couldn’t work like this. If she got dizzy again, she’d probably spill all the water she had left, and that really would be a waste.

Hands shaking, she brought the skin up to her lips, telling herself that Tal was right. If drinking allowed her to obey, then drinking was obedience.

The Curse allowed her to drink. When it didn’t immediately punish her, she swallowed greedily, nearly draining the whole thing before she stopped. It was like breathing for the first time all day.

When she was done, Tal pulled the skin closed and set it aside for her. She shot him a grateful look but said, “I still have work to do. The front path is a mess.”

“I’ll help.”

“The Lady will see you out there,” Jae said.

“She’ll find me eventually anyway,” he said, his head so close, it nearly touched hers. “I might as well help you in the meantime.”

Jae hesitated, torn. She wanted the help, anything to make the work go faster. Anything that would keep Lady Shirrad from deciding that Jae hadn’t done a good enough job. But at the same time, she knew what Lady Shirrad wanted Tal for. The same looks and charm that won him relative freedom came at the price of him having to hold his smile when she brushed her fingers over his cheek.

Tal caught her gaze, gold-flecked eyes sincere. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle the Lady,” Tal said, then stood and offered Jae a hand up.

She ignored it and stood on her own, guilt warring with anxiety in her gut. Accepting Tal’s help would practically offer him up to Lady Shirrad for the evening, but without his help she’d be working all night. All she wanted in the world was to rest. But Tal was her brother.

“Jae,” Tal finally said, barely audible. He wasn’t smiling at her, pretending things were fine. He was as tired as she was, but he was still waiting for her. “Ask me if I mind helping you.”