His words hung between us, unexpected and firm. I studied his face, searching for hesitation or fear. Found none. Only determination and that quiet strength I'd come to rely on.

  "Ross won't allow it." I turned back to the wardrobe, pulling out my dark blue long-sleeved shirt—perfect for hiding my scars and the brand—along with a knee-length skirt and leather sandals. "He wants me safe. Protected."

  "Then we don't tell him." Selwyn's voice dropped lower, a conspirator's whisper.

  "You'd defy my brother? Risk his wrath?" I laid the clothes on the bed, watching Selwyn's reaction.

  He met my gaze steadily. "I would."

  I began changing into my chosen clothes, noting the way Selwyn immediately turned his back to give me privacy. The brand on my shoulder had begun to scab over, though it still sent shocks of pain through my body when I moved wrong. I rolled my neck, feeling the vertebrae pop. Healing, but restless.

  "We'll need Jacobi." I pulled the shirt over my head, wincing as it brushed my healing wounds. "His position gives us freedom of movement that you and I don't have."

  Selwyn half-turned, seeing I was decent. "He won't agree to hunt Marcelo."

  "No." I smoothed the shirt over my torso, adjusting the sleeves to cover all visible marks. "But he might agree to something simpler. A trip to the market, perhaps. Fresh air for the invalid."

  A knock sounded at my door.

  "Speaking of..." I raised an eyebrow at Selwyn.

  Jacobi entered without waiting for permission, then stopped short seeing Selwyn already there. His eyes narrowed, moving between us.

  "You're up." Jacobi's voice carried a note of surprise. "And dressed."

  "Better enough to leave this room." I stretched, letting them both see the motion ripple through my muscles. "The healing herbs the staff provided have worked wonders, but if I stay in this bed another day, I'll go mad."

  Jacobi frowned. "Your brother said we should remain here until—"

  "Until Marcelo is found. I know." I adjusted my skirt, ignoring the twinge from my back where the knife had pierced me. "But he won't be found if he's fled the city, and I won't recover properly lying in bed all day. I need to move."

  Neither of them spoke.

  "I want to go to the market." I gestured to my clothes. "I'm already dressed. I need fresh air, sunshine. Just a few hours."

  Jacobi's jaw worked, that familiar stubborn set I'd come to know over the years. "It's not safe."

  "Nothing is safe." I stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes. "But I'll have the two of you with me, won't I?"

  His eyes narrowed at the challenge in my voice.

  "There's a small market in the inner district." Selwyn had turned from the window, his voice carefully neutral. "Mostly Naerithi merchants. Less crowded than the main square."

  I caught his eye briefly. Arkwell Market—where Marcelo had been seen.

  "Perfect." I turned toward Selwyn, giving Jacobi my back.

  "Joy." Jacobi's voice had that edge to it, the one that usually meant I'd pushed too far.

  I ignored it. "We can leave now." I touched the fabric of my shirt. "I'm ready."

  Selwyn's gaze lingered on me a moment too long. He fumbled with something in his pocket, avoiding my eyes.

  "We should let your brother know." Jacobi's voice had gone flat. "At least have Lilach accompany us."

  I heard what he wasn't saying. Lilach would report back to Ross. Lilach would make sure we didn't stray too far. Lilach would keep us—keep me—from taking risks.

  "No, thank you." I let the words drip with false sweetness.

  Selwyn finally looked up, his gaze flickering between Jacobi and me. The tension in the room had solidified into something palpable, something with weight.

  Jacobi remained, his stance solid, unwavering. "Three hours. That's all."

  I nodded, conceding this small point. "Three hours."

  The market was a riot of color and sound, smaller than the grand bazaar in the city center but vibrant in its own way. Stalls lined the cobblestone streets, selling everything from spiced meats to delicate glasswork. The air smelled of cinnamon and smoke, of ripening fruit and the faint musk of too many bodies in too small a space.

  I breathed it in, letting it fill my lungs. Freedom, however temporary.

  Jacobi walked on my left, close enough that his arm occasionally brushed mine. Selwyn stayed to my right, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd. The brothers had shed their usual formal attire for simpler clothes, though Jacobi still managed to look like he owned everything his gaze touched.

  A pair of human children darted past, nearly colliding with me before their mother pulled them back with hurried apologies and wary eyes. I nodded politely, used to such reactions.

  "Are you hungry?" Selwyn nodded toward a stall selling meat pies, steam rising from their crusts.

  Before I could answer, Jacobi's hand settled at the small of my back. "There's a proper café at the end of the street. We can sit."

  I stepped away from his touch. "I want one of those." I pointed to the meat pies, meeting Jacobi's eyes with deliberate challenge.

  His jaw tightened. He pulled out his wallet.

  Selwyn stepped forward. "I'll get them."

  "No." Jacobi's hand closed around Selwyn's wrist, stopping him. "I'll pay."

  Their eyes locked, a silent battle passing between them. I watched, fascinated despite myself. The tension between them had been growing since they'd found me in that cellar, sharp-edged and dangerous.

  I walked ahead to the stall. The human woman tending the pies had skin weathered by years in the sun, her eyes narrowing slightly as I approached.

  "Three, please." I kept my voice soft, aware of the brothers behind me.

  She nodded curtly, her eyes flicking over my white hair and pale skin. She wrapped the pies in thin paper with practiced efficiency. "That'll be nine silvers."

  I reached into my pocket, but a hand appeared in my peripheral vision, holding a gold coin.

  "Keep the change." Jacobi's voice was smooth as glass. He took two of the wrapped pies, handing one to Selwyn before biting into his own.

  My fingers tightened around the remaining pie. "I could have paid."

  "With what money?" Jacobi raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriating half-smile.

  I bit into the pie, letting the savory taste of meat and spices fill my mouth. "I'll pay you back." I winked at him, deliberately provocative, and had the satisfaction of watching color rise to his cheeks.

  We continued through the market, the brothers flanking me like guards.

  A stall selling fabrics caught my eye. Silks and cottons in every color imaginable hung in swaths, catching the light. I ran my fingers over a bolt of deep purple, feeling its smoothness.

  "That would suit you." The stallkeeper, a portly human man with a well-trimmed beard, assessed me with a merchant's calculating eye. "Brings out the silver in your eyes."

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  "It's lovely." I turned the price tag over and tried not to wince.

  Selwyn appeared at my side, his voice low. "Would you like it?"

  I let the fabric fall from my fingers. "No."

  "Are you sure? I could—"

  "She said no, Selwyn." Jacobi had joined us, his shoulder brushing mine as he reached past to touch the purple silk. "Though it is beautiful."

  The stallkeeper beamed. "I have more colors, if the lady would like to see them?"

  "No, thank you." I stepped back, suddenly claustrophobic between the brothers. "I need air."

  I pushed my way to the edge of the market, where the crowd thinned and a small stone bench sat beneath a flowering tree. I sank onto it, my back throbbing where the knife wound was still healing.

  Footsteps approached, deliberate and measured. Jacobi. I recognized his walk without looking up.

  "You shouldn't go too far." He sat beside me, too close, his thigh pressing against mine.

  "I'm fine." I stared ahead, at the milling crowd.

  "Marcelo is still out there."

  "I know that better than anyone." My hand went to my shoulder, where his brand still burned beneath my clothes.

  Selwyn approached from the other direction, holding something wrapped in brown paper. He hesitated, seeing Jacobi beside me, then sat on my other side.

  "What is that?" I nodded to the package.

  He unwrapped it carefully, revealing a silver hair comb inlaid with small purple stones.

  "I saw it at one of the stalls." His fingers brushed mine as he placed it in my palm. "It reminded me of your eyes."

  I turned the comb over, watching the stones catch the light. It was beautiful, delicate without being fragile. Like me, perhaps.

  Jacobi's thigh tensed against mine. "That's quite a gift."

  Selwyn shrugged, but his eyes remained on my face, watching my reaction. "Not really. Just a trinket."

  We all knew it wasn't. The craftsmanship alone would have cost a week's wages for most.

  "Thank you." I slid the comb into my hair, securing a section away from my face. The weight of it felt good, solid. Mine.

  Jacobi stood abruptly. "We should head back. Your brother will be worried."

  "I still have an hour." I remained seated, the sun warm on my face.

  "Joy." The edge in his voice had sharpened. "You're still healing."

  I glanced up at him, at the tight line of his jaw and the controlled tension in his shoulders. Then I looked at Selwyn, at the quiet challenge in his eyes as he watched his brother.

  I stood, placing myself deliberately between them. "Fine. But I want to stop at one more stall first."

  Without waiting for an answer, I walked deeper into the market. Behind me, I heard them both follow, their footsteps falling into reluctant sync.

  I stopped at a stall displaying weapons: knives with ornate handles, small throwing blades, and elegant daggers. The merchant, a broad-shouldered human man with a scar across his jaw, watched me with wary eyes as I approached.

  "These are fine pieces." I ran a finger along the flat of a dagger, feeling the cool metal against my skin.

  The merchant nodded, his gaze flicking to Jacobi and Selwyn behind me. "Best steel in the city. Each one balanced perfectly."

  Jacobi stepped closer, his arm brushing mine. "Joy, we don't need weapons."

  "I do." I picked up a slim blade with a bone handle, testing its weight. "Mine were taken. How much?" I looked the merchant in the eye.

  "Twenty gold for that one." He crossed his arms. "It's Vosian steel. Holds an edge better than anything else you'll find."

  Jacobi made a dismissive sound. "That's twice what it's worth."

  The merchant's expression hardened, his eyes flicking to my pale skin and white hair. "Not to her, it isn't."

  I suppressed a smile and let my eyes widen slightly, feigning innocence while carefully tracking Selwyn's reaction in my peripheral vision. His posture shifted—predator awakening.

  "What exactly do you mean by that?" Selwyn's voice came low, dangerous.

  "Nothing." The merchant's eyes shifted, realizing his mistake too late. "Just that it's a quality blade."

  I cocked my head, the picture of confusion. "How much would you charge him?" I nodded toward Jacobi, enjoying the game now. My tone remained even while anticipation hummed through my veins.

  "Same price. Twenty gold." His fingers twitched against the table edge.

  "Liar." I turned the knife over, letting it catch the light. My tone was conversational, almost cheerful. "Ten gold, or we leave."

  The merchant laughed, the sound sharp and dismissive. "You can leave now, then."

  I could feel Jacobi behind me, tension radiating from him in waves. Perfect. I deliberately angled my body to keep both brothers in the merchant's line of sight. This performance needed the right audience.

  Jacobi placed a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Joy. There are better merchants."

  I didn't move, my feet planted firmly. I met the merchant's eyes directly, a challenge. "Twelve gold. Final offer." I smiled sweetly, daring him to say what I knew he wanted to say.

  The merchant's face flushed crimson, a vein pulsing at his temple. He leaned forward, taking the bait completely. "Listen, demon—"

  The word hung in the air. I hadn't needed to do anything but exist and let human prejudice do the rest.

  "Enough." Selwyn stepped forward with controlled fury. "Apologize to the lady."

  The crowd around us went silent. I kept my expression neutral despite the satisfaction blooming in my chest. The brothers' reactions exceeded my expectations.

  The merchant's eyes widened, realizing the trap too late. "I don't have to—"

  Selwyn's hand went to his belt, drawing his small knife halfway. "Apologize."

  A crowd gathered around us, drawn by the spectacle. I felt their eyes on me—a Naerithi woman standing between two human men.

  "It's fine." I placed a hand on Selwyn's arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. I gave him a subtle squeeze—appreciation for playing his part so perfectly. "Not worth the trouble."

  Jacobi moved to my other side, his body angled slightly in front of mine. "No, it isn't fine."

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch. With deliberate movements, he counted out twenty gold coins onto the merchant's table. Each coin hit the wood with a sharp click.

  "We'll take the knife." He picked it up and handed it to me, his eyes never leaving the merchant's face. "And your apology to the lady."

  I watched the merchant's internal struggle play across his face—humiliation warring with self-preservation. I savored every second of it.

  "My apologies, miss." The words came strained, forced through a tight throat.

  I took the knife, testing its weight before sliding it into my belt. "Accepted." I kept my voice gracious, magnanimous in victory.

  Someone in the crowd whispered, the sound slithering through the tense silence. A Naerithi woman at the edge of the gathering caught my eye, giving me a slight nod.

  I returned the nod, satisfaction coursing through me. Not just a knife gained, but a public demonstration. Two human men of status defending a Naerithi woman's honor. Word would spread. The story would reach the right ears.

  Jacobi's hand settled at the small of my back as we turned away. "Now we're leaving."

  I allowed him to guide me through the crowd, aware of Selwyn following close behind. The weight of the knife at my hip was comforting, familiar.

  "You shouldn't have paid full price." I kept my voice low, for Jacobi's ears only. "He was gouging you."

  "I know." His fingers pressed slightly against my spine. "But sometimes there are more important things than money."

  I glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. His face gave nothing away, but his eyes were dark with something I couldn't name.

  "Like what?"

  "Like showing everyone who was watching that you aren't to be disrespected." His hand moved to my waist, a casual claim in front of the market crowd. "Not while you're with me."

  "With us," Selwyn corrected, falling into step on my other side.

  I felt caught between them again, a sensation that was becoming all too familiar. The sun beat down on my head, making the silver comb in my hair warm against my scalp. I touched it briefly, a reminder of Selwyn's gift.

  "We should go back now." I stepped away from both of them, needing space. "Ross will be looking for me."

  "Your brother seems very protective." Jacobi matched my pace, neither hurrying nor slowing.

  "All my brothers are protective." I thought of the other Naerithi warriors in his household. Of the lengths they had gone to keep me safe after Selwyn and Jacobi had brought me to them.

  We walked in silence after that, the brothers exchanging glances over my head when they thought I wasn't looking and I pretended not to notice.

  The crowd thinned as we neared the edge of the market. Ahead, I could see the waiting carriage, one of Ross’ men standing beside it. Home, or something close to it.

  Jacobi slowed his pace, forcing me to match him. "So, why did you come to the market today?"

  I shrugged. "Fresh air. Freedom. Does there need to be another reason?"

  "With you? Always." His voice held a note of frustration.

  Selwyn laughed softly. "She doesn't owe us explanations, Jacobi."

  "No?" Jacobi's eyebrow rose. "Then why follow her around like a lost puppy all day?"

  I stopped walking, feeling the tension spike between them. This was more than their usual bickering. This was something raw and unresolved, brought to the surface by my presence.

  "I needed people to see me." I looked between them, forcing them to focus on me rather than each other. "To know I'm alive and moving freely in the city."

  "Why?" Selwyn's brow furrowed, though his eyes held a flicker of understanding.

  "Because sooner or later, word will reach Marcelo." I touched the knife at my belt. "And he'll come looking."

  Understanding dawned in their eyes, followed quickly by concern.

  "You used us as bait." Jacobi's voice was flat.

  "No." I met his gaze without flinching. "I'm the bait. You're my shield."

  Selwyn swallowed hard, the realization hitting him despite our earlier planning. "You want him to come for you."

  "I want to find him first." The lie slid easily from my tongue. "But if he finds me instead, I'll be ready."

  "This is madness." Jacobi's hands clenched into fists. "You're still healing."

  "Would you have agreed if I'd told you my real plan?" I looked between them, already knowing the answer.

  Neither spoke.

  I smiled, a small victory. "That's what I thought."

  My fingers brushed against the knife at my belt. The first step in reclaiming what Marcelo had taken from me. My power. My control. My vengeance.