Page 195 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

The Prioress held out both her hands, palms up, and smiled. Ead took them and rose, and applause rang through the burial chamber. As the Prioress turned her to face her sisters, presenting her to them as a Red Damsel, Ead happened to look toward the Sons of Siyati. And there, standing among them, was a man whose face was familiar.

He was taller than she was. Long, powerful limbs. Deep black skin. When he lifted his head, his features were bared to the candlelight.

She could not be seeing this. Kalyba had addled her senses. He was dead. He was lost. He could not be here.

And yet— and yet, he was.

Loth.

44

South

Ead.

She was staring at him as if at a ghost.

For months he had walked these halls in a half-sleep. He suspected they were putting something into his food, to make him forget the man he had been. He had started to misremember the details of her face—his friend from far away.

Now there she was, cloaked in red, hair thickset with flowers. And she looked . . . whole, and full, and fire-new. As if she had gone for too long without water, and now she was in bloom.

Ead shifted her gaze. As if she had never seen him. The Prioress—the head of this sect—guided her from the chamber. Betrayal had stung him at the first sight of her, but he had known, from that instant of flared eyes and parted lips, that she was just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

No matter what she was, she was still Ead Duryan, still his friend. Somehow, he had to reach her.

Before it was too late to remember.

Chassar was in bed when Ead found him reading by candlelight, spectacles on the bridge of his nose. He looked up as she blew into his chamber like a storm.

“What is Lord Arteloth doing here?” She made no effort to keep her voice low.

His great brows furrowed. “Eadaz,” he said, “calm yourself.”

Sarsun, who had been snoozing, loosed an indignant caw.

“The Night Hawk sent Loth to Cárscaro,” Ead said coolly. “Why is he here?”

Chassar let out a long sigh.

“He was the one who brought us the riddlebox. It was given to him by the Donmata Marosa.” He removed his spectacles. “She told him to find me. After meeting Jondu.”

“The Donmata is an ally?”

“Apparently.” Chassar crossed his nightrobe over his chest and knotted the belt. “Lord Arteloth was not meant to be in the burial chamber tonight.”

“Then you purposely kept him out of my way.”

The deceit would have hurt from anyone, but it was most hurtful from him.

“I knew that you would not be pleased,” Chassar murmured. “I wanted to break it to you myself, after the ceremony. You know that when outsiders find the Priory, they can never leave.”

“He has a family. We cannot just—”

“We can. For the Priory.” Slowly, Chassar rose from bed. “If we let him go, he would tell all to Sabran.”

“You need not fear that. The Night Hawk will never let Loth return to court,” Ead said.

“Eadaz, listen to me. Arteloth Beck is a follower of the Deceiver. Perhaps he was kind to you, but he can neverunderstandyou. Next you will tell me that you came to care for Sabran Bereth—”

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