Talis took the second tart, broke it in half, handed half back. “He wouldn’t listen to you last time.”
“No. But—”
“Wait. There’s one more thing. I forgot.” He told Jer what he’d seen and heard, which also wasn’t enough to act on: a conversation, a plan. He told Jer that he thought—he thought—the other person had worn the uniform of the royal guards, that shade of blue, those embellishments. He saw Jer’s face as he said it; he reached out to take Jer’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you heard it—we need to know.” Jeryn bit his lip, though, saying so. His gaze ached with it, a lightning-skewered sky. “I can try to speak with the Captain in the morning. One more time. We’ll need to leave earlier. But he should know this.”
“It’ll be someone you know, won’t it?”
“More or less. We all
