A second later, the door opened again. This time, the air that blew in wasn’t full of Cypress’s rot. It was full of warmth, familiarity, and something a little like hope.

Clara.

She was the reason I let strangers leer at me. The reason I came home smelling like stale ale and cheap fish stew. She was the reason I hadn’t broken yet.

I wiped my hands on my apron and met her halfway, wrapping her up in a hug.

“Hey, sister,” I murmured, kissing her cheek.

We didn’t see each other much. We only had time on the rare morning we crossed paths before I collapsed into bed, or on my single day off a week. Her visits here, away from Mother and the household chores was always a treat.

She was stunning, of course. Not just because she looked like our mother, she was dark-haired and elegant, and she hadn’t been ground down by the world yet. She still had light in her eyes that I imagined were well and truly extinguished in mine.

Her gown tonight was simple linen, dyed a soft blue that made her glow in the candlelight. Modest neckline, just enough lace at the cuffs to be fashionable. A dress that said, I belong somewhere better than this.

Which she did. Anyone with standards did.

“It’s quiet tonight,” she said, scanning the room. “You doing all right?”

“As well as anyone swimming in debt and ale can do,” I said, pouring her a mug from the least-warm keg. “Don’t sip too fast. It’s only mostly cold.”

“I got up on the roof today,” she said, pulling a face after her first sip.

“Why in the name of the Gods would you do that?”

“The leak,” she said, like it was obvious.

“You could’ve broken your neck. We don’t exactly have extra healing potions stacked in the pantry.”

She shrugged. “It’s not like the leak is going to fix itself. And I got a pleasant view while I was up there.”

“Did you fix it?”

“I think so.”

She took another sip and grimaced again. “Gods. You’d think Cypress could spring for a chill enchantment.”

“He could. He won’t.” I filled a mug for myself and sat down with her. “Too hot, not enough business. Story of his life.”

Elise joined us with a tray of stew and bread. She plopped it down like she was delivering treasure.

The three of us sat at the corner table while the regulars filtered out, one by one. They left their coppers without fuss. They knew the deal. Once Clara arrived, I was off duty.

It probably looked strange, the way I doted on her. She was nearly eighteen now, and by normal society standards, she should’ve been married off. But instead, she stayed home, learning how to stretch coin and patch roofs while pretending our lives weren’t falling apart.

We had our roles. Clara kept the house standing. I brought in the coin. And Mother? Mother listened. She still had friends in high places, even after our fall. She knew the whispers, tracked the suitors, and did her best to keep hope alive.

The three of us, real family and found, ate, laughed, and told stories. I shared Nokuth’s latest tall tale. Clara claimed it matched something she’d read in one of Father’s old journals. Elise told us about the nobleman who paid in dungeon gold and then snuck out with her purse.

I laughed so hard I nearly choked. It felt good. For a moment, I let myself forget what time it was.

Then the door opened again.

And the moment was over.

The bell rang, soft and sharp.

Kaeso.

The third son of the Duke. My once-fiancé. My personal ghost with a face sculpted by the gods and a codpiece that could knock over a stool.

Kaeso strolled in like it was his own personal throne room. Loose shirt, embroidered vest, and a pair of tights that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. And of course, a codpiece the size of his ego, all polished up like a knight’s pauldron.

Clara stiffened beside me. She didn’t say a word. She just stood and kissed my cheek.

“See you later,” I whispered. She didn’t need to be here for this. No one did.

She bolted past him, skirts brushing his leg. Didn’t even offer an apology. He turned, probably ready with some smug little line, but she was already halfway down the street by the time his mouth opened.

He watched her go.

Then he turned to me.

Of course he did.

My courtier, once upon a time.

Kaeso was everything a noble son should be. The bastard was handsome, poised, and completely useless in anything that mattered. He had a face that could launch a hundred sighs and a jawline that could crack stone. His dark curls were perfectly tousled, like he’d just been in a fight with a lover and definitely won.

And those eyes… Warm brown. Soft. Dangerous. The kind of eyes that could make a stupid girl believe in love.

I used to be that girl.

The inn was empty, but Kaeso still played to an invisible audience. He turned his charm toward Elise, all golden smile and practiced mischief.

“Look at you,” he murmured, drawing her in by the waist. “A fine lady, if ever I saw one.”

“I’m no lady,” Elise purred, already slipping into character. “And you didn’t come here looking for one.”

“That I didn’t.” He flashed those perfect teeth again, then turned to me.

That smile was still in place, but now it was dipped in something darker. Something that said I remember you.

“Nice,” I said flatly. “Another night slumming it with the tavern girls. Your family must be bursting with pride.”

I gathered a few empty mugs and slammed them onto my tray with more force than necessary. Let him pretend this was nothing. I wasn’t going to make it easy.

He said nothing. Just smiled at me like I was an old favorite book he’d left under the bed, familiar, dusty, and probably still worth a read if he got bored.

There was tension. Thick, choking, old as sin.

Cypress hadn’t lied when he called Kaeso my courtier. We’d been promised once. Betrothed, even. It had been arranged, blessed, and publicly celebrated. I was fourteen, wearing my best silk, holding his hand in the Duke’s garden while our mothers wept tears of joy.

Back when I believed in fairy tales.

Back before my father fell from grace and dragged us all down with him.

I loved Kaeso once. Madly. Desperately. I used to sneak out just to catch a glimpse of him on the training fields. I used to dream about the life we’d have.

And now he was here.

At this inn. In front of the tables where I spent my nights pretending to be someone else. Bedding a girl he barely knew, two doors down from the girl he once promised forever.

Not just in front of me. In front of the Gods.

The insult didn’t need words. It was burned into every glance, every smirk, every coin he dropped on the bar.

Elise was already leading him toward the stairs, all hips and soft whispers.

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Because in five minutes, I’d be slipping up the back stairs, sneaking into the room behind hers, and into his arms.

Elise would smile and close the door behind us.

We’d keep up the charade. It had become our little play, one she giggled at every night we performed.

But tonight? Tonight, I wasn’t sure I could keep up the act.

Because Kaeso wasn’t just another mistake.

He was the mistake that I couldn’t let go of.