“But—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted. Then, his voice softening, “She’s going to give me Firran’s position soon. Everything will be easier then, for both of us.”

Something dark and hard formed in Jae’s chest as Tal walked into the kitchen and she continued down the hall toward Lord Elan’s quarters. The Curse had let Tal say all of that, so maybe he’d convinced himself it was true, that what Lady Shirrad did was fine because he’d get something out of it. But just because he believed that didn’t make it right. Gali had spent the night alone and miserable, and whether Shirrad treated Tal well or not, he still had no choice in the matter. It wasn’t fair. What Shirrad did to Tal was no better than what Rannith had done to her—

The world around her went bright, even though there were no windows in the stone corridor. She fell backward against the wall, letting it hold her weight as she gasped in breaths. Her fingers scrabbled at the smooth stone, and she tried to focus on that, to let the sensation ground her. All she could think about was Tal, lying awake on Shirrad’s mat, what had happened to him, to her, to Gali, to every other Closest in the household.

Energy sang around her, bright and pure, begging her to reach out for it. Her head pounded as the Curse reminded her: she wasn’t allowed. Lord Elan had forbidden it, and even though all she wanted was to pull that energy into herself, to find a way to use it to take revenge, she couldn’t.

She took a deep breath, then another, pressed her palms flat against the stone and leaned on it, the wall cool against the back of her neck. She shut her eyes and waited until the sense of power receded, the light dimming, the need to do something with her magic fading away.

She woke Lord Elan and helped him dress. He regarded himself critically in the mirror, rubbing his palm against the stubble on his chin, then ran his hand through his curls. “Help me pull this into some kind of order,” he said. “I can go a few more days without shaving, but I’m starting to look like a mess.”

Maybe she was allowed to speak, but holding her tongue seemed like the better idea, especially when she was so close to him. His hair was finer than hers, his curls falling in loose ringlets instead of tight spirals, and it was just long enough for her to pull back at the nape of his neck. She tied it with a piece of bright green cord, fingers brushing his neck accidentally. His skin was warm where she grazed it, and he smelled like sweat and perfume. Her chest tightened, and it was all she could do to keep her hands steady. Gali would have been much better at this; Gali, or Tal, or anyone else.

She took several long steps back the moment she finished, while Lord Elan looked in the mirror and frowned. Even Jae could see he wasn’t as polished as when he’d arrived at Aredann, but he was still handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline despite its current stubble, and warm, dark eyes. Jae turned away quickly, not wanting him to notice her looking and get the wrong idea. Or get any idea at all.

The day continued the same way the previous had. Jae worked and waited, fetched and carried and cleaned and sewed, and longed to be outside with her plants instead. The Avowed gathered in Lady Shirrad’s study after lunch. With no choice but to serve as an attendant in case Lord Elan needed anything, Jae followed, and sat in a shadowed corner so she could continue with the estate’s mending while they talked.

“Now that Lord Elan and I have been here for several days, I can see just how dire the situation at Aredann is,” Lord Desinn started. “I’ve sent word to His Highest, asking him to come oversee the abandonment personally, and immediately.”

A few of the Avowed’s mouths opened, to gasp or to talk, but Lady Shirrad cut them all off. “Are you truly certain that’s necessary? Our reservoir isn’t all that low. The Well still provides.”

“Yes,” Lord Desinn said. “It does, but that’s the problem. There simply isn’t enough water, and what the Well sends to Aredann could be better used in the central cities. Once Aredann is empty, that’s where the Highest will send it.”

“But that’s not fair!” Lady Shirrad snapped, her voice breaking.

Jae looked up at her in surprise. She’d thought the Avowed were all happy to move closer to the central cities, where the drought wasn’t as bad, but Lady Shirrad obviously wasn’t. Then again, the rest of them would have it easier, but as a failed guardian, Lady Shirrad would probably never again be trusted with any responsibility, no matter how small.

But Aredann wasn’t going to be abandoned. Jae was going to save it, even if she had to do it Lord Elan’s way. She looked over at him and found him silent, watching Lord Desinn carefully.

“It isn’t fair to waste water on a tiny estate like this, when others need it more,” Lord Desinn said. “That is what the Highest have decided, and none of us has any right to question that.”

Lady Shirrad looked down, cowed.

“We’ll need to prepare for Lord Elthis’s arrival, be as close to ready to leave as we can when he gets here. Aside from what remains in the reservoir, what is there to bring to Danardae?” Lord Desinn continued. He glanced at the room’s largest mosaic, which had already been removed from the wall and sat leaning up against it. “Is there anything else of value?”

“Aredann has value,” Lady Shirrad said.

Lord Desinn rolled his eyes. “The artwork, the furnishings. Things that matter.”

Jae seethed at that, for the first time appreciating something the Lady had said. Aredann was their home. The people had value.

“The fountain,” one of the other Avowed ventured. “It was mage-crafted by Lord Aredann himself.”

“There’s no way to move that,” Lady Shirrad said.

Jae frowned, that familiar feeling of a memory just out of reach hitting her again. The fountain—mage-crafted. But not by Lord Aredann. It had been sculpted by a woman, Jae was certain of that, someone tied to the Well….

She stared at the door that led to the corridor, as if she’d be able to gaze through the walls and into the courtyard.

“It is a shame, though, to leave it,” Lord Elan said, finally contributing something to the conversation. He glanced at Jae, then away. “If it could be moved, it would be worth more than any artwork. It isn’t just mage-crafted; it’s a piece of Aredann’s history. Lord Aredann won the War here. It’s something we should never forget.”