Lenora found Lewd in an alcove two turns beyond the mess hall.
A tall window stood behind her. Pale light crossed the floor, reaching the toes of her boots and the lower edge of Blight Vein, which she held tightly against her chest. She had chosen a place removed from the main passage, but every approaching footstep still made one ear turn.
Lenora stopped outside the alcove.
“I am not going to ask whether you are fine again.”
Lewd looked at her, then toward the corridor behind her.
“Did everyone send you?”
“No. I followed because I was worried.”
“I told you I did not want to talk.”
“You did. I should have listened before telling you what would help.”
That made Lewd look back at her.
Lenora rested one shoulder against the stone beside the alcove. She left the opening clear.
“I can stay here without asking questions. Or I can go back.”
Lewd’s fingers shifted against the cover of the book. For several breaths, Lenora thought she would be sent away.
Then Lewd said, “There is something I did not tell you.”
Lenora waited.
“About the mindscape. Before the fight.”
“You told us a great deal.”
“Not this part.” Lewd looked down at the book. “I kept leaving it out because it sounded embarrassing. Then everyone wanted to know about the poison and the lightning, and I thought perhaps I would never have to say it.”
Lenora eased away from the wall.
“Would you rather sit?”
Lewd shook her head. “If I sit down, I might stop.”
“All right. I am listening.”
Lewd watched the light on the floor instead of Lenora’s face.
“The first time I reached him, I ran straight to him. I had been so frightened of finding him hurt that I did not think about what I would do if he was simply standing there.”
Her grip on Blight Vein tightened.
“I hugged him. Hard enough that he stepped back. He hesitated before he held me, and I thought for a moment he was going to ask me to let go.”
“But he held you.”
Lewd nodded.
“For a little while, that was all I could think about. He was there. He could touch me. I did not have to keep guessing what was happening behind his eyes.”
Lenora remembered the hours spent addressing the same face and receiving answers from Sinister. She could understand why the difference would have mattered before Lewd found words for it.
“It felt like being home,” Lewd said. “Then I remembered what he had agreed to, and I started yelling at him.”
“About the bargain.”
“And the fail-safe. We all put our hands on that book. I thought the promise meant I would never have to wonder which one of them was deciding how far was too far.”
Lenora moved close enough that Lewd no longer had to raise her voice for someone listening from the passage to hear.
“He told you it had not been broken.”
“He told me what it was supposed to prevent. That is not the same thing as making me feel safe about what he had done.”
“I know.”
Lewd looked at her then, searching for disagreement.
Lenora did not give her any.
“He said Sinister could not physically hurt anyone,” Lewd continued. “I kept thinking about how many things had already happened without that rule stopping them.”
Her ears lowered.
“But I am doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Talking about the part I already told everyone so I do not have to reach the other part.”
Lenora almost smiled, then decided Lewd would misread it.
“You can take your time.”
“That makes it worse somehow.”
“Then I will stop being reassuring for a moment.”
Lewd gave her a brief, startled look. A little of the strain left her mouth before returning.
“When Blight trained me, I could not keep everything where it belonged. My shield, my sword, my feet. Every time I fixed one thing, something else went wrong.”
“You had just started using them.”
“I know that now. I did not feel it then.”
She shifted the grimoire against her chest, noticing its presence as though it had become an inconvenient witness.
“Blight called me worthless.”
Lenora’s expression hardened.
Lewd saw the change immediately.
“Please do not go looking for her.”
“I am standing here.”
“You are thinking about it.”
Lenora took a breath through her nose.
“What happened after she said it?”
“I could not breathe properly. I dropped everything. I kept thinking Derpy would decide I was too much trouble to keep helping.”
The admission came quietly. Lewd watched Lenora as though she expected the thought itself to be judged.
“He stopped training,” she said. “He came over and told Blight to stop. Then he sat with me.”
“Good.”
“He did not make me get up. He did not tell me how ridiculous I was being. He said I could leave the shield on the ground if I needed to.”
Lewd swallowed.
“And he said he was not leaving because I was having trouble.”
Lenora’s face softened.
For a moment, Lewd seemed unable to continue. She moved one hand away from the book, rubbed it against her skirt, and returned it to the same place.
“Lenora, I kissed him.”
Lenora went still.
Lewd noticed everything about that stillness.
“It was quick,” she said hurriedly. “I was not planning it. He was right there, and he had been so kind, and I needed to know that he was really staying.”
Lenora opened her mouth, but Lewd had already continued.
“I pulled away immediately. He looked shocked. I thought I had ruined it, that he would look at me differently after I had made him stop everything to help me.”
“What did he say?”
“That he needed a second.” Lewd’s cheeks reddened. “Then he said we would talk later, when I was not shaking and everyone was not watching.”
Lenora looked toward the window for no useful reason.
Lewd narrowed her eyes.
“He did not reject me,” she added, a little defensively.
“I did not say he did.”
“He said he was still there. He stayed with me, and afterward we practiced together. Then later we had the argument, and now I do not know what any of it means.”
She stopped.
Lenora could feel the heat in her own face. She had managed far more difficult conversations without becoming so conspicuously aware of where to put her hands.
Lewd watched her for another moment.
“Why are you blushing?”
“I am not—”
“Lenora.”
The name carried enough accusation that she gave up halfway through the denial.
Lewd drew the book a little higher.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Then tell me why you look like that.”
Lenora rubbed the back of her neck.
She had followed Lewd to offer company. Somehow, she had arrived at a question she had hoped to leave alone until the palace stopped inventing emergencies.
“I care about him too,” she said.
Lewd’s ears lifted.
“I know you care about him.”
“Not only in the way you mean when you say that.”
Understanding moved across Lewd’s face slowly enough that Lenora had time to regret her phrasing.
“You like him.”
Lenora nodded.
Lewd stared.
“I did not plan to tell you like this,” Lenora said. “You were already hurting. I was trying to listen without making it about me.”
“By turning bright red?”
“That part was not planned either.”
Lewd glanced down at the book, then back at her.
“How long?”
“I cannot give you an exact moment.”
“You sound as though I asked for a military report.”
“I would find that easier.”
The answer almost drew a smile from Lewd. Almost.
Lenora took the small opening before she could lose her nerve.
“There is something else I should tell you.”
Lewd’s eyes narrowed again.
“I have kissed him too.”
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Lewd lowered the grimoire far enough for Lenora to see her entire expression.
“You what?”
“It was part of the contract when we first met.”
“You kissed him first?”
The question carried into the corridor.
Lenora looked toward the opening. Somewhere beyond it, footsteps slowed, then resumed at a more determined pace.
“Could you say that a little less loudly?”
“Could you have told me before I stood here explaining how I kissed him?”
“I did not know that was where your story was going.”
Lewd’s ears stood completely upright now.
“What contract requires kissing?”
“The one we made. It was a condition of the binding.”
“So you are telling me it was business.”
“Magic politics,” Lenora said, then closed her eyes as she heard herself.
Lewd stared at her.
“Magic politics.”
“It sounded better before I said it.”
“No, I do not think it did.”
Lenora let her hand fall from her neck.
“It was not romantic at the time. That is what I am trying to explain.”
“At the time.”
“Lewd.”
“You added that.”
“Because I am trying to be honest with you.”
Lewd made a small, strangled sound and covered her face with one hand. The other kept Blight Vein trapped against her ribs.
Lenora watched her, uncertain whether to apologize, explain again, or stop speaking before she found another way to make it worse.
“I did not know you liked him then,” she said.
Lewd peered between her fingers.
“I did not know you liked him now.”
“That is fair.”
They looked at each other, both embarrassed enough that the admission should have made the silence unbearable.
Instead, Lewd laughed.
It came out short and uneven, surprising her into another breath. Lenora tried to remain composed and failed when Lewd looked at her again.
For a few moments, they stood beside the window laughing quietly at a situation neither found especially funny.
When it faded, Lewd wiped beneath one eye.
“I came out here because I could not stand anyone looking at me.”
“I noticed.”
“And now I have told you about the kiss.”
“And discovered my unfortunate history of diplomacy.”
Lewd shook her head, but there was less anger in it.
“You are never calling it that again.”
“I would be grateful if neither of us did.”
Lewd rested the book on the window ledge without releasing it.
The cooler stone gave her hands somewhere to settle. Outside the alcove, the castle continued its ordinary noises: a distant voice, the movement of a cart, guards passing through rooms where neither woman could see Derpy.
The thought of him brought the seriousness back without erasing what had come before.
“I still need to talk to him,” Lewd said.
Lenora nodded.
“About the kiss?”
“About all of it. The kiss, the fight, what I said. I cannot keep trying to decide what he thinks from whichever expression frightened me most.”
“No. You cannot.”
Lewd glanced at her.
“I am jealous,” she admitted.
Lenora did not pretend to misunderstand.
“Of the contract?”
“Of you knowing things about him I do not. Of you being able to stand beside him and look as though you know what to do.”
“I do not know what to do much of the time.”
“You look like you do.”
“That is practice.”
Lewd considered her, then lowered her eyes.
“I do not want this to turn into another fight.”
“Neither do I.”
“And I do not want you to tell me I should stop feeling something just because it is inconvenient.”
“I am not asking that.” Lenora rested a hand against the edge of the ledge. “I cannot promise I will never be jealous either. But we can decide what we do with it before someone else has to get hurt.”
Lewd looked at her hands.
“I already hurt him.”
“I know.”
“I need to fix it.”
“You can take responsibility for your part. You do not have to find the perfect thing to say that fixes everything he has done too.”
The distinction held Lewd’s attention.
Lenora continued gently.
“He will have things to answer for. You will have things to say. Let it be a conversation instead of another test you think you have to pass to keep him.”
Lewd breathed out through her nose.
“That sounds difficult.”
“It probably will be.”
“At least you are not telling me it will be fine.”
“I promised to stop being reassuring.”
“You said for a moment.”
Lenora smiled a little.
“I will be nearby when you speak to him, if you want me there. Close enough to help, far enough that you do not have to perform the conversation for me.”
Lewd studied her.
“You would do that?”
“You are my friend.”
The answer quieted her more effectively than advice had.
Lenora looked toward the passage.
“And until Vaeloria decides we are permitted within breathing distance of him, you do not have to keep having the argument alone in your head.”
Lewd picked the book up again, holding it less tightly this time.
“Thank you.”
They stood together for another moment. Neither moved toward the mess hall.
Then Lewd looked at her sideways.
“Please do not tell anyone about the kiss.”
Lenora hesitated.
Lewd noticed immediately.
“Which one are you thinking about?”
“The problem is that I would prefer you not to tell anyone either.”
Lewd’s mouth twitched.
“About the magic politics?”
“We agreed not to call it that.”
“I agreed you should never call it that again.”
Lenora’s face warmed.
“Both kisses stay between us.”
Lewd lowered her forehead against the grimoire with a muffled groan. When she lifted it again, she was smiling despite herself.
“Fine. Both.”
A servant passed the alcove and glanced in. This time, Lewd did not flinch from being seen.
She stepped beside Lenora, and they left the window together.