The moment we got into the carriage, I shoved William so hard, his body slammed against the soft cushions behind him. “Did you poison Theodore intentionally?”

“The guy you know is part of the Council of Commons that wouldn’t stop staring at you all night? I did. He makes you weak, and your weakness can hurt all of us, Cat.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” I snapped.

“It is when your ability to decide is clouded by emotion,” William shot back.

“That’s enough!” Isobel shouted over both of us. “Regardless of William’s hasty behavior, he has a point Cat. But William, you should have trusted Cat a bit more. You know she’d make the right decision.”

“I’m sorry, Cat. But it doesn’t matter. He’s dead now anyway.”

I bit my lip and stared out of the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass and hoping neither William nor Isobel ever found out what I did tonight. Was saving Theo a mistake? Potentially, but I don’t regret it—at least, not yet. I’m not sure the consequences this singular choice may have in the future, but hopefully I can hold them at bay for as long as possible.

“So, where do we go from here?” William asked softly, his caramel eyes fixed on my face, though I refused to peel my gaze away from the passing stars.

“Well, we made connections with a few ladies tonight,” Isobel answered. “I’m thinking Cat and I could take the time to get to know them a bit more, gather some gossip and start piecing together the dots of other people involved in the Council of Commons.”

“Cat?” William said softly, nudging my knee with his. “I said I’m sorry.”

I shook my head and sighed. “The damage is done, right? We can’t change what the other did, so let’s just forget about tonight.”

“So, we’re okay? You’re not going to strangle me in my sleep?”

“If I intend to strangle you, I’m at least going to wait until we get a different house where I no longer have to share a room with you. I don’t want the stench of your death permeating my air,” I teased, feeling my shoulders relax when William smiled, though the bile in my throat from the betrayal I managed to hide still burned my insides.

When we finally made it back to the inn, I immediately changed into my assassin gear and left for the night. I needed space—space to process the guilt I felt for what I’d done, to think about what this entanglement with Theodore could possibly mean for the future, and to figure out how to prevent the inevitable collision course I just set myself on with my dearest friends once the truth rears its ugly head.

I spent the entire night raiding houses, as well as the several nights that followed. Roughly one week into my guilt-driven thieving spree, my back was aching from my hefty bag of coin—and the massive weight of truth—I carried. As I hopped onto Charis and rode slowly through the forest and spent the ride back to that cramped inn as I always did: searching for any sign of an abandoned property we could make our own. Tonight, my eyes landed on a small, run down farm that sat upon a hill not too far from Rodenwhal. I led Charis toward it and then snuck to a small window near the front, peeking inside and seeing that it was quite empty, which confused me because the animals and crops seemed mostly well tended upon further inspection, though it did seem some of them might be underfed, perhaps due to either abandonment or a lack of food for them.

I climbed into the kitchen. It was spacious, a bit worse for wear but not terrible, with a lovely table that would be perfect for the three of us plus any additional recruits we find in the coming days. I tiptoed toward the living room where an old, dusty red couch sat, and I winced as the floor groaned loudly beneath my feet. Onyx fluttered about the house, seemingly pleased with the layout, and I chuckled quietly at my silly bird.

Then, a scream shattered my eardrums as a poor, old farmer with bulging eyes emerged from his room and saw me. I immediately yanked my cowl off and shushed him. “I’m not here to kill you. You can calm down.”

“That—you—I,” he stammered, panting and incapable of speech. I pressed my lips into a thin line. This poor, old man was exhausted. His clothes were tattered, his hair was matted, his sunken eyes looked as though they were terrified of sleep. I know the type. The type of person stuck in a life they wished to rid themselves of. I’m one of them.

“I thought it was vacant. I’m sorry, sir. If you’re open to it, I’d be happy to take this farm off your hands.”

Before he could answer, I threw my hefty bag down. It smacked the ground with a resounding thud, and much of the silver and gold coins I’d stolen throughout the night spilled over. The man grunted as he picked it up. He gasped, then turned his gaze back to me, then to the bag, then to me again, over and over. “You want this dingy farm? You’ll pay all of this for it?”

“Yes sir, every coin, with plenty not only to find a new home but also to spend a few months in any inn you’d like while you search. Go, travel around Opoulsios, and enjoy.”

The man stepped back, his eyes still fixed on the heavy bag. “This is—I don’t have words for this.”

“Are you not interested in selling? I’d be happy to leave.”

The man’s gaze shot back up to me, and his grip tightened on the bag. “Oh no, I am. The house is yours. The animals, too. I’ll be out by midday tomorrow.”

“Alright.” I grinned. “Thank you.”