Chapter 12 · Sisters and Knives

"Explain the coat, Rhys."

Sona threw it at his chest before he'd even cleared the doorway. Blood soaked through the wool, brown gone black at the edges. A scrap of paper was pinned to the collar with a sewing needle. His name was on it. Not a title. Not a description. His actual name, in handwriting he didn't recognize.

"I don't know whose coat that is."

"It's got your name on it."

"Lots of things have my name on them. Doesn't mean I wrote them."

She closed the distance in one step. Her hand found his collar, twisted it, pulled him down half a head so they were eye to eye. Close enough he could smell the oil she used on her blade. The copper underneath meant she'd already drawn somebody's blood tonight.

Not his. Not yet.

"Somebody in this keep is feeding information to whoever's outside the walls," she said. "And every time I follow the thread, it leads back to you standing somewhere you shouldn't be."

"Or somebody wants it to look that way."

"Convenient."

"Isn't it." He held her stare. "Ask yourself who benefits from you distrusting me right when the siege clock's running down. Ograne.