I couldn’t quite interpret the intensity in her gaze. “Yes.”
“Only you picked the Artisan ink, eh? And you stayed in the city.”
I frowned. Nodded. I wondered if an insult were to follow. How dare a Crafter girl betray her very blood?
But Tess sighed. “I would’ve done the same, in your shoes. There was a time I would’ve swallowed anything to get me out of this place.” She grimaced, replaced the pitcher to the floor. “You look around Old Kenton now, and you wouldn’t recognize it. But once, it was just soot and misery. I was jealous of the Artisans in their sparklin’ buildings. Jealous of their other finery, too. The dresses and coaches and balls and feasts. Their magic. It all seemed like such a dream, didn’t it? You must’ve imagined the same.”
I nodded but didn’t speak.
“I’ve never bee
