When she rose from her curtsy, she was not Nina Zenik; she was Mila Jandersdat, a girl whose livelihood might very well depend on the favor of Jarl Brum.
But Brum’s focus was on Hanne. His face softened when he looked at his daughter.
“Hanne,” he said, stepping forward and embracing her. “You’re looking … hearty.”
Hanne hunched a little more. “Thank you, Papa.”
“Your form would soften if you would leave off riding so much.”
“I’m sorry, Papa.”
He sighed. “I know you are.” His gaze shifted to Nina, who bowed her head and turned her eyes to the floor demurely. “And this is your new teacher? She’s young enough to be a student here.”
“She’s serving as a guide to the Zemeni tradesmen who arrived last week,” said Hanne.
“So the Wellmother tells me,” said Brum, stalking toward Nina. “A stranger arrives with two foreigners, and only days later the security at the factory is breached. An unlikely coincidence.”
Nina looked at him with what she hoped was bewildered dismay. Brum snatched the tip of her chin and tilted her face up.
Whoever had sewn the skin back onto his head had done so with considerable skill, but his golden hair was gone and there was no hiding the scar that circled his skull like the fat pink tail of a rat. A Grisha Healer or Tailor could have faded it, but of course then he’d have had to let one of them near his head. Nina wanted to meet his incisive gaze with a glare of her own. Instead she allowed her eyes to fill with tears.
Brum frowned. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen, sir.”
“You were widowed young.”
“I have been unlucky.”
His lip curled slightly. “Why do you tremble so?”
“I have had little cause to be in the presence of great men.”
Brum’s brows rose, but she didn’t miss the flash of satisfaction in his eyes. So this was what Commander Brum liked—flattery, timidity, fear. When she’d met him last, she’d been bold and flirtatious. Now she understood her mistake.
“Where did you learn Zemeni?” he asked.
“My husband ran a small business shipping frozen goods and fish. He traded frequently with the Zemeni. I had a talent for it and took over the communications.”
“And how did he die?”
“Lost to the waters.” A tear rolled down her cheek. Nina could not have asked for better timing.
Brum’s eyes tracked its progress almost hungrily. “A shame.” He released Nina’s chin and stepped back. “I’ll want to question the Zemeni traders,” he told the Wellmother.
“What about my lessons, Papa?” Hanne asked.
“Your lessons,” Brum said thoughtfully. “Yes, I think the influence of a girl with country manners might be good for you, Hanne. You may continue.”
Nina sank into another curtsy. “Thank you, sir,” she said, looking up at him through wet lashes. “It is an honor.”
As Brum and Hanne left the room to chat privately, Nina curtsied to the Wellmother and turned to go.
“I know what you’re up to,” said the Wellmother.
Nina froze with her hand on the doorknob. “What do you mean?”
“Commander Brum is happily married to a woman of noble birth.”
Nina blinked and almost burst out laughing. “Why would that concern me?”
The Wellmother’s eyes slitted. “I doubt it would concern you at all. I knew there was more to your motives than a simple teaching position.”
“I only wish to make a living.”
The Wellmother clucked in disbelief. “You aim to land a wealthy provider. You may have the good commander fooled with your wide eyes and wobbly lip, but you are no honest woman.”
And you are the worst kind of hypocrite, Nina thought, anger flaring. This woman had dosed young girls and women with parem—or some equivalent. She’d put on her pious little pinafore and walked the halls of that factory with her cursed drug, helping soldiers make slaves. When those girls go missing, I’m going to make sure Jarl Brum blames you. Then we’ll see how you enjoy the good commander’s attentions.
But all she said was “Commander Brum is old enough to be my father.”
“And wise enough to resist your clumsy allure, I’ll warrant. But I will be watching.”
Nina shook her head with false concern. “You have been cloistered here too long, Wellmother, if your thoughts turn so readily to sin.”
“How dare you—”
Nina fluffed her skirts primly over her toes. “I’m not sure it’s an entirely wholesome atmosphere for a girl like Hanne. A shame,” Nina said as she turned to go. “But I will pray for you.”
She left the Wellmother red-cheeked and sputtering.
As much as Nina enjoyed baiting the Wellmother, she was glad of the woman’s suspicions. What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet? Kaz Brekker had once explained. Tell him you’re going to steal his watch. If that sour-mouthed crone thought Nina’s goal was to become a rich man’s mistress, then she’d be distracted from their real plan.
And what if Brum is bluffing? What if he knows exactly who I am? Nina had been fooled by Brum once before and had nearly lost her life in the process. This time, she would be more cautious. When she tangled with Jarl Brum again, she did not intend to leave him standing.
But she wasn’t prepared for the storm awaiting her in the classroom.
“What was that?” Hanne railed. Kori was nowhere to be found, and Hanne paced back and forth, her pinafore billowing behind her. “Quivering like a leaf in a storm. Crying like some kind of frightened child. That wasn’t you.”
Nina felt a sudden surge of anger. What she’d seen at the fort, the shock of meeting Brum again, the crimes of the Wellmother, it was all too much. “You barely know me,” she snapped.
“I know you’re brave enough to want to help your sister and reckless enough to break into a military stronghold to do it. I know you’re clever enough to dupe a roomful of drunk hunters and generous enough to help a desperate friend. Or is that all an act too?”
Nina clenched her fists. “I’m trying to make sure I survive, that both of us survive. Your father … I know his reputation. He’s a ruthless man.”
“He’s had to be.”
Nina wanted to scream. How could fierce, spirited Hanne be Brum’s daughter? And why couldn’t she see what he was? “If he knew you were Grisha, what would he do?”
Hanne turned toward the window. “I don’t know.”
“What if he knew I was trying to help you?”
Hanne shrugged. “I don’t know,” she repeated.
You know, Nina thought. You know what that bigoted bastard would do, but you’re too afraid to admit it.
Nina wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her. She wanted to pull Hanne onto a horse and ride until they reached the shore. But she couldn’t think about any of that, not if they were going to free the girls in the fort. Adawesi. We fight. And Nina knew fighting meant using all the tools at her disposal—even Hanne’s guilt.
“You owe it to your father to keep this secret.” Nina felt sick saying those words, aware of the effect they would have. Hanne owed Brum nothing, but Nina forced herself to continue. “If he knew you were Grisha, it would put him in an impossible position. His reputation and his career would be at tremendous risk.”
Hanne slumped at the desk and put her head in her hands. “You think I don’t realize that?”
Nina crouched down before her. “Hanne, look at me.” Nina waited, and at last Hanne looked up. Her vibrant eyes were dry but anguished, and Nina knew that pain was not for herself but for the embarrassment she’d cause her father. “This country … this country does terrible things to its women and to its men. Your father thinks the way he does because he was raised to. But I can’t help him. I can’t fix him. I can help my sister. I can help you. And I’ll do what I have to in order to make that possible. If that means batting my lashes at your father and convincing him I’m a model of Fjerdan woman-hood, I’ll do it.”
“It’s disgusting. You looked at my father as if he were an incarnation of Djel.”
“I looked at your father the way he wants to be looked at—like a hero.”
Hanne ran her calloused thumb down the length of the old wooden desk. “Is that what you do with me?”
“No,” said Nina, and that, at least, was the truth. She had told Hanne countless lies, but she’d never flattered, never manipulated her in that way. “When I said you were talented, I meant it. When I said you were glorious, I meant that too.” Hanne met her gaze, and for a moment, Nina felt as if they weren’t stuck in this classroom or even this country. They were someplace better. They were someplace free. “Our first job is always to survive,” she said. “I won’t apologize for it.”
Hanne’s lips twitched. “Have you always been this sure of yourself?”
Nina shrugged. “Yes.”
“And your husband didn’t complain?”
“He complained,” Nina said—and suddenly she had to look away, because it was not some fictional merchant who had come to mind but Matthias with his strict propriety and his disapproving glower and his loving, generous heart. “He complained all the time.”
“Was he quick to anger?” Hanne asked.
Nina shook her head and pressed her palms to her eyes, unable to stop the tears that came, not wanting to. Saints, she was tired. “No. We didn’t always agree.” She smiled, tasting salt on her lips. “In fact, we almost never agreed. But he loved me. And I loved him.”
Hanne reached across the desk and let her fingers brush Nina’s hand. “I had no right to ask.”
“It’s okay,” said Nina. “The hurt just still catches me by surprise. It’s a sneaky little podge.”