I see Tesadora in the woods, scraping sap from the trees. She knows I am there and she turns, holds my stare. She knows me, she knows me, she can see deep within.

“Is it true that you love me more than the Lumateran queen?” I ask.

It’s the news that I’ve heard. It makes my blood sing. She walks to me, smiling, takes my face in her hands. But standing so closely, I see the truth in her eyes.

“I love Isaboe of Lumatere with all my heart.”

I pull free from her grip, and I clench both my fists.

“Do you love her more than the scarred one?” I demand.

“His name is Perri and he doesn’t like to be reminded of his scar. So don’t mention it,” she adds with a mocking whisper.

“Would he be handsome to you without it?”

“I was the one who put it there,” she says with a shrug. “And he’s handsome enough with it.”

“Do you love your Perri more than the queen of Lumatere?” I ask again.

“If I love him less, does that make it less than love?”

“But if you had to choose between them?”

“I don’t want to live in a world where I have to choose,” she says, and I hear fury in her voice and I dance on its embers. It’s for the other, that bitch queen who dared threaten my life. I’ll kill her for that; I’ll slice her to pieces. A jab to the side and a blade ear to ear.

“And if your scarred lover doesn’t come down the mountain because she forbids him?” I ask. “What then?”

“Then so be it,” Tesadora says. “They’ll both lose me.”

“And it will just be you and me,” I say. “That’s why you stayed in the valley. For me.”

And she looks at me sadly, and I see tears pool in her eyes.

“I stayed here because Isaboe can live without me. You can’t. You’re a pathetic lost spirit with no one.”

And I hold back my hurt, Froi. The hurt that you’ve seen.

“Put away those savage teeth,” she says with a laugh. “They don’t scare me the slightest.”

And she grips my chin so I cannot break free.

“Do you know what I just did, my broken little savage?” she asks. “I told a truth. Do you understand the power truth has to hurt? Ask me again why I stay, and I’ll find better words.”

If it was you, would you ask, Froi, or would you just walk away? But I’m desperate to know, and I wait for the strength.

“Is it true that you love me more than the queen?” I say, and my voice is small and frightened. I don’t want to hear this truth twice.

“I love the queen with all my heart,” she says. “But, for now, my place is here, because I’ll do anything to protect you. I can’t explain why. You’re on your own, and I can’t bear the idea of someone hurting you.”

I unclench my fists. I like her new words.

“Better?” she asks, and I nod in relief.

“Understand what your truth does to others,” she says. “Others such as Phaedra, my savage cat. Think for a moment. Not every thought in your head has to come out of your mouth.”

I don’t understand.

“Learn to cloak your words, Quintana. Not with lies, but without so much truth. Do you want everyone like Phaedra to walk away from you, bleeding in spirit?”

I stay next to her and I work alongside her, watching the way she tears the bark into strips, and when everything’s silent, she looks deep in my eyes.

“Who else is in there with you? Who else, my noble little savage?”

And I feel the tears in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall.

But she takes my hand and presses it to her cheek, and I speak words I’ve never said aloud.

“Sometimes . . . sometimes . . . it seems I’m bits and pieces and she — my sister, the reginita — she was able to make sense of it all. I’d say, ‘Look after them! I don’t have the time,’ and she’d say, ‘They’re part of us now. Not whole beings, but part of you. They want to go home, but they can’t. Because they’re not complete.’”

Tesadora stares at me, her face pale.

“And I don’t understand her,” I say. “So don’t ask me more.”

“What are you hiding from me?” Tesadora asks.

And I place my head against her heart. “Tesadora,” I say. “I think the half-dead spirit of your child lives within me.”