"I was there when you gave him up, Athea. I've earned more than gratitude."
Athea stood, moving to the window. The capital city spread out below. "Calyra, I thought you of all people understood this the most."
"Trust me. I understand that this is risky."
"Really? Then you should know that generosity is a luxury I can't afford right now," she said, her back to Calyra. "Every person who meets him is a thread that connects back to us. Viora was a calculated risk. She needed to see him because she was already suspicious, and a suspicious Viora is a dangerous Viora. Letting her in was damage control."
"And letting me in is what? A treat?"
"A liability."
Calyra went quiet. Not the performative silence from before, but something closer to genuine. When she spoke again, the teasing edge had softened.
"You know," she said, "when you first told me about him, do you remember what I said?"
Athea didn't answer. She remembered.
