I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening wandering the castle grounds, one of my other Scipian guards, Felix, following but keeping his distance like a disembodied shadow. From the castle walls to the courtyard, from the Great Hall to watching the blacksmith hammering iron over his anvil, nothing sated the feeling of unease that crawled under my skin like a nest of insects beneath a log. I finally wandered into the Queen's Garden, hoping to take my mind off of the bout with Kiran and Adri's words in its aftermath. The whole situation filled me with a kind of discomfort, mostly because I knew they were both right. I had marginal control over my anger, particularly when I had nothing to lose. Their words had brought to the surface a truth that I had always known deep within. My power was borne out of rage, and yet it felt... incomplete. If I could fuel it with more than that... what could I become?

The thoughts were swirling in my head like wraiths when I turned past a blooming rhododendron and nearly ran into Rolfe. We both startled and took a step backward, Rolfe recovering quickly with a wide smile.

"Lady Quinn! What a pleasant surprise to see you here. The Flower of Fidelium in the Queen's Garden... I suppose that makes sense."

I returned his smile, though my face still felt tight. "Please, just call me Quinn. I'm hardly a Lady of the Court." I realized I'd let my emotions slip a little, and widened my smile to compensate. "It's a pleasure to see you as well. How is your work going?"

"It's coming along. Would you like to see?"

"Yes," I said, with a genuine smile that time. "Very much so." Rolfe offered his arm, and I looped my hand into the crook of his elbow. We walked at a languid pace toward his work area, taking in the colourful lupines and fragrant irises as we went. We arrived at the barren section where earth was overturned and Rolfe's long wooden desk sat empty.

"This will be where the purple jade will border the top of a stone retaining wall," Rolfe explained, gesturing to a mound of dirt. "I have a contact who has found beautiful specimens of balloon flowers, wax plants, and camellias. The Queen has requested camellias for some time but they are difficult to procure." We walked a little further as I tried to picture the final execution of what he described. "And this," Rolfe said, pointing to another mound of dirt, "is where the greenhouse will be located to house rare flowers such as orchids, which I will also procure from the East." I glanced up at Rolfe, admiring his vision for his work.

"Do you enjoy what you do?" I asked.

"Yes, very much so," he replied with a sincere smile. "I find rare treasures, I meet new people, I cultivate friendships. It suits me well."

"I imagine it does." It wasn't difficult to envision Rolfe's charm in negotiation or his enthusiasm for rarities. "Tell me, before coming here had you met any other Diviners?" Rolfe's smile took on a mask-like quality, something I imagined he slipped on frequently in his line of work.

"A few." We started walking again, heading toward the dahlias where I had spotted Draco a few days earlier. "Your friend that I am to cross swords with tonight... tell me about her?"

"Why, are you concerned about your duel this evening?"

"A little."

"So you should be. You will only win if she lets you," I said with a smile of affection and pride for my closest friend. "But she is kind, and fair. She will only stab you if you deserve it."

"Then let's hope I do nothing to deserve it." We smiled at each other, Rolfe raking his hand through his black hair.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," I replied, stopping in front of a purple dahlia and running my fingers over one of its silken petals. I sighed, my smile faltering.

"Something troubles you," Rolfe said, looking down at me with concern in his dark eyes.

"I fear I have been neither fair nor kind, and it weighs on me," I confessed.

"Ah, the training yard today," he said with a gentle smile.

"How did you know about that?" I could feel my brows draw close and my eyes narrow as I looked up at him.

"Acquiring information is the first step in acquiring rare objects," he replied. I scrutinized his face for any hint of malice but found none. He laid his hand over mine, as though he read my concern. "Look, I've known Kiran a long time. He asks the best of himself, and likewise he strives to bring out the best in others. He can be antagonistic in his pursuit of such goals, but the intention is pure."

"I suppose that makes sense," I conceded, considering Rolfe's insight. "I felt he was unfair, and I still feel that way. But I also don't feel that I handled it well. My anger... sometimes it takes over."

Rolfe turned to face me, laying his hands on my upper arms. "Kiran values trust, and part of trust is accountability. If you feel you've done wrong, just apologize. I'm sure he will meet you halfway." I smiled and looped my hand through Rolfe's arm and we started walking again.

"Wise words for a man who is willingly about to be stabbed with a sword or a fork," I said. Rolfe's laugh sang through the flowers, and my thoughts dwelled on what he said as we parted ways at the entrance of the gardens. I felt Skye's presence approach as I watched Rolfe depart into the deepening dusk of the summer evening, picking her up so she could twine around my arms and shoulders. I called back to Felix who waited patiently several paces behind me and asked him to lead me to the Scipian halls.

It took me a moment to actually knock on Kiran's door when Felix deposited me in the corridor. My palms heated and the residual pain in my chest suddenly felt more acute as my heart rallied against the fading bruises in my bones. A door could be so many things: an opportunity or an ending, a chance or a failure. It felt both impenetrable and full of possibility. The weight of a simple door seemed to press on me and I wanted it to stay shut as much as I wanted it to open. I finally gathered the courage to knock, and was already starting to turn away when it opened.

"Quinn," Kiran said, sounding surprised. He neither smiled nor frowned, his face indifferent but not unkind. "Come in." The door opened wider and Kiran's room was spread before me as he stood back and allowed me to pass. It was sparsely decorated, with thick, deep crimson curtains framing the tall window and matching blankets laying on the well-made bed. A number of books lay stacked on a small mahogany table and one of the two accompanying chairs. There was a set of dark leather armchairs next to the empty hearth, the mantle of which was lined with a row of candles of various heights, all lit. A glass of whiskey and a worn book laid spread like a dying bird across the small end table next to one of the armchairs.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. We can always speak another time if it's inconvenient," I said, taking a few ginger steps into his room.

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"Not at all," he replied, picking up his glass and bringing it to a side table where the bottle of whiskey and several clean glasses waited. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please," I said, in desperate need for the courage of spirits. As I set Skye down on one of the armchairs, Kiran poured me a glass and topped up his own, handing me the etched crystal vessel. I took a sip, letting the burning liquid bite the back of my throat and coat my chest in warmth. I sighed, looking down into my glass as I swirled the liquor, trying to conjure a spell of courage. When I looked up again at Kiran, his eyebrows flicked upward and the hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. I drained my glass.

"Another?" Kiran asked, holding out his calloused palm. I nodded, unable to speak around the fire in my throat. He refilled my glass and handed it back to me. I took a long sip.

"I'm not good at this," I said.

"I can tell," he replied, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. I rolled my shoulders and looked down at the floor, willing the words to form on my tongue. I shook my head a little and met Kiran's eyes again.

Gods, how is it he seems more beautiful every time I look at him, I thought. His face was lit by the warm glow of the flickering candles, his broad, athletic frame relaxed in the comfort of familiar surroundings. I took another sip of whiskey.

"I came to apologize, for earlier," I finally spat out. There was a moment of silence where I half expected Kiran to say something, but he simply waited, unmoving. "You were correct earlier that my anger sometimes gets... out of control..." I trailed off and looked at Skye as if she could save me, but she simply sat coiled on the chair, observing, silent as a stone. I rolled my eyes and tried to refocus on my purpose, taking a deep and cleansing breath. "My power first manifested out of rage," I said quietly, looking down. "Sometimes it feels like there is little else to draw on here. I didn't mean to take it out on you." I looked back up, meeting Kiran's opalescent eyes. He smiled, his features softening.

"I'm sorry too," he said, looking down into his glass. "I have goaded you, and your anger was not unwarranted. You were right when you said I was patronizing. Forgive me." Kiran's gaze collided with mine. I felt the sincerity of his plea in the worried tick in his jaw and the way his eyes bored into mine.

"Forgiven," I said. "Provided, of course, that you will honour your offer to help me learn to better control it." Kiran's smile spread, both dimples winking through the dark stubble on his cheeks.

"I can do that."

I nodded, looking past Kiran to the window and the darkening sky beyond, wriggling a little as I fidgeted in my discomfort. "You're not used to apologizing, are you," he observed.

"No."

"Nor asking for help." I shook my head and moved my shoulders and arms around, trying to loosen the feeling of being uncomfortable in my own skin. "How do you feel?"

"Itchy," I said, squirming a little. Kiran blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion, a frown pulling at the edges of his lips. "Umm... flummoxed?" The frown deepened and is his head tilted. "Okay then, vexed... No? How about confounded?..."

Saudade, Skye whispered in my mind. I snapped my fingers and pointed at her with a delighted smile.

"Yes! What the snake said. Saudade. I'm very much...saudade..."

Kiran's sudden, uninhibited, sonorous laugh filled his room.

"Those don't even go together! Itchy and flummoxed?"

"Of course they go together!" I protested. "I am flummoxed as to why I am itchy. I am vexed as to why neither flummoxed nor itchy seem to be satisfactory responses. And I am extremely confounded as to how a snake knows the meaning of saudade, particularly when I... do not." Kiran's ivory blue eyes danced, his dimples in full force.

"So, you are very much feeling saudade."

"Yes, most definitely."

"...A nostalgic yearning..."

"Uhh..."

"For what, exactly? My charmingly patronizing instruction methods?"

I snorted, clamping my hand over my mouth to try to stamp down the giggles that followed, which was made only more difficult by Kiran's bright smile and the look on his face, like he had won a prize by making me laugh. He stepped toward the fireplace and sat in one of the armchairs, motioning to the other where Skye was coiled in an offer to join him. I picked her up and rested her on my lap, her head climbing my torso until her face was nestled in the warmth of the crook of my neck. Kiran watched as though entranced by the candlelight that reflected off of her blue scales.

"I suspected it must be hard for you all here, bearing so much of the weight of the kingdom's protection on your shoulders. I think I underestimated just how hard, however," he said as he offered a kind smile.

"Is that your pity face?" I joked. He laughed and looked into his glass with a sheepish grin. "In all seriousness, there is pressure here, yes. And sacrifice. But we as much as we protect, we are protected. We have food, shelter. We have a certain status that affords us some liberties that aren't perhaps so obvious. Just look at Skye. As a child, I brought a venomous attack snake into a castle and there was never a question about keeping her, even after her murder spree." Kiran chuckled. "We are trained to look after ourselves and each other. We have a family with one another. We don't want for anything."

"You don't?" Kiran asked, his voice low, his eyes glittering. His expression lost any trace of amusement, replaced instead with something rich and dark, like a spiced liquor. Something foreign and unfamiliar. Something intoxicating and dangerous. I ran the tips of my fingers along the length of Skye's scales as I regarded him, not breaking our tangled gaze.

"What is the point in wanting more than what you can have?" I asked before taking a sip of my whiskey.

"I thought that was the point of life, to want everything. To pursue more than you thought it possible to attain," he replied, turning his gaze to the tawny liquid he swirled in his glass. I smiled a little, though it felt melancholic in my skin.

"Perhaps, for a person. But I am a Diviner."

"Is a Diviner not a person?" Kiran turned his gaze back to me with a look like he thought he'd caught me in a little trap.

"No," I said, my voice sure and the timbre strong. I drained my glass, enough liquor already in my blood that it no longer burned down my throat. "A Diviner is more. And we are less." I stood and passed my empty glass to Kiran, our fingertips grazing as the crystal transferred from my hand to his. The warmth of Kiran's touch radiated up my arm. "Thank you, Kiran, for your hospitality. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Let me escort you back to the Sanctum," he said, starting to rise from his chair.

"No, that's all right," I replied. "I know my way back. Felix will be there waiting for me. And I have a snake for the journey in between," I said, holding Skye's head toward him. Her tongue flicked, her amber eyes catching the candlelight. I pulled her head back up to my shoulder and smiled faintly. "Goodnight, Kiran."

"Goodnight, Quinn." I left Kiran in his armchair by the mantle filled little flames and left the Scipian barracks, suddenly feeling a pleasant kind of tiredness in my limbs, as though the weight I'd been carrying all day had finally eased from my bones. I crossed through the courtyard, slowing to a halt part the way across to admire the vibrant stars in the cloudless night sky. The scent of wisteria drifted toward me on the warm summer breeze that caressed my face. This is what you can have, I thought to myself. Somewhere along the thread of this life, I had learned to cherish these moments: a summer breeze, the scent of a flower, a star-riddled night. They may have been little, simple things, but they were things I could absorb. They were memories I could keep. I soaked them into my pores with a breath that filled to the bottom of my lungs.

I started walking again, thinking of Adri's date with Rolfe, and how it would only be a few hours until their blades would glint in the starlight on a perfect summer night. I thought about my advice to her, to live as though her options were endless, and about my talk with Kiran. In replaying those conversations in my mind, I felt as though my life was more closed-off to opportunity than the lives of those I knew and cared for. It felt like the future was somehow wider for Adri, even though she was due to wed Nikolas by decree of the crown, or Kiran, even though he'd sworn an oath to protect me for the rest of his life. Even Hadriana and Cato, who had always been together and now were married. It felt like their life together was rich and abundant with possibility. We all had limitations. But why did theirs feel less constrictive than mine?

As I slowed up the steps of the Sanctum, lost in thought, I felt a warmth like breath on my skin and turned. Looking back across the courtyard, I saw Kiran, his tall frame illuminated by moonlight, a hand resting casually on the sword at his side. He'd escorted me anyway but had given me space. I smiled faintly, unable to see if he smiled in return, and then turned and stepped over the threshold, into the darkness of my home.