The moment his lips touched her hand, Kyra’s chest turned to ice. She’d assumed, with all the upheaval in the Palace, that something like the marriage negotiations would have been suspended. How na?ve she’d been.
Tristam watched the girl leave and went inside the building. A short while later, a soft glow came from the window as he lit a lamp. Kyra pressed herself flat against the wall. She’d planned to knock on his window, but she couldn’t let Tristam know what she’d seen. She lingered outside until her skin was numb from the wind and finally admitted to herself that she was being ridiculous. She’d come all the way here from the forest. She wasn’t going to leave without speaking to Tristam.
It took a couple raps on the shutters for Tristam to notice, but then he pulled them open and peered out the window. His eyes focused quickly on Kyra—he’d gotten much better at spotting her on ledges, though he still did a double take before he moved to make room for her to jump in.
There was such relief in his eyes when he looked at her, and it felt so good to see him alive and well, that for a moment Kyra forgot the noblewoman she’d seen. As soon as her feet touched the floor, he pulled her into a hug, and she gladly returned it, squeezing him as tightly as her frozen limbs would allow. He was blissfully warm, and the fine silk of his tunic was soft against her face. He smelled like warm bread and spices. After a moment, he held her out again at arm’s length.
“I’ve missed you,” he said softly, his eyes scanning her. “And you’re freezing.” Tristam motioned for her to sit down at the table and moved to check the latch on his door. He lingered there for a moment, alert for noises in the hallway.
“I don’t hear anyone,” said Kyra.
He pulled a blanket from his bed and draped it over her shoulder. It wasn’t nearly as warm as his arms had been, but Kyra pulled it tight around her. He scrutinized her, and she did the same to him, studying his face, his posture. He seemed healthy. There was a tired slump to his shoulders, but he was alive and not imprisoned.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “Your landlady had no idea, and neither did Flick’s roommates.”
“I’m still alive,” she said. She filled him in on her flight from the city and where she’d been hiding. “And things at the Palace. How are they? Have you been cleared of suspicion?”
A crease formed between his eyebrows. “I have, but not Malikel. They’re still questioning him, and Willem means to drag this out as long as he can.”
He didn’t direct any accusations at Kyra, which somehow made it worse. “Is there any way I can help?”
He shook his head heavily. “Not unless you can control the minds of the Council.” But then he raised his head. “Does the name ‘Orvin’ mean anything to you?”
Kyra blinked. “Willem’s manservant?”
“He came to me with a message for you soon after you disappeared.”
Orvin had approached Tristam? She wondered what had persuaded Orvin to trust him. “He was an informant for the Guild. He gave me information a while back, and I asked him to get word to me if he had any more. I was trying to find some way to discredit Willem but didn’t get anything before I had to…leave.”
There was just the slightest flicker of confusion across Tristam’s face. He was wondering why she hadn’t told him until now. “Orvin must have decided I was the best way to reach you. I was worried it was a trap, but I finally spoke to him. He says Willem is expecting a messenger eight days from today.”
Kyra leaned forward. “One of the private messengers?”
Tristam nodded. “It would be too dangerous to confront him inside the Palace, but Orvin says the messenger stays at an inn when he visits Forge and that he comes into the Palace compound and leaves through the private gate near Willem’s residence. I was considering tailing him myself, but I’m not as good at it as you are.”