The stairs ahead of us ended at the base of a wall that loomed like a sb of harsh judgment.

  Compared to the patchwork grime and rot-stained masonry of Bastion Reach’s lower yers, the wall was... almost pristine. Pale stone scrubbed weekly, riddled with traces of maintenance in the form of pulleys and scaffolding. Reinforced gates that shone dully in the sunlight. Rows of embedded runes shimmered faintly near the top—air purification magi-tech, presumably. They pulsed like a heartbeat—a sight too ethereal to ever be seen from the bottom.

  Beyond that wall were the Noble Layers. Or the “upper crust” if you were feeling bitter, and “Top Layers” if you were feeling pragmatic.

  Elsbeth stood beside me in her dirty cloak, still hidden by the Burnmask, with her shaking hands pressed together. Her eyes flicked to mine, uncertain. “Why are we here?”

  I looked back to the wall.

  "I haven’t come here this year yet,” I said. “Thought I’d look at it with fresh eyes.”

  She didn’t reply. Just stood quietly, breathing in through her nose. I wondered if she was trying to work out why I’d dragged her all the way up here to stand in front of the city’s most unbreachable door.

  The city moved around us, trudging forward under gray skies that one could actually see, and here we stood—two people with so much to say to the other, momentarily in a world of our own.

  I kept my voice low. “Nobles don’t come out this way, do they? Through that gate at the top, I mean.”

  Elsbeth shook her head. “No. They have lifts.”

  “Right. The vertical ones. They descend in certain pces. Then their carriages swing around and travel the main street that runs down through the three middle yers.”

  “And then out to the one Snt, if they’re bored enough to remind themselves of the world outside the city,” she added. Her tone was dry, but her stance had changed into something stiffer, and with a little more visible aggression.

  I turned to look at her. “Elsbeth. How would someone like me… get in?”

  That did it.

  She took a step back. Just one. But it created so much distance.

  “What?” she asked.

  My eyes settled on the sight beyond this wall, to the tower at the top of the hill. I couldn’t see it from here, but the Lord’s mansion was at the base of that gray tower.

  “How would someone like me get in there when I have no right to be there?”

  “Why?” she asked. The delicateness of her voice had been repced by uncomfortable sharpness. “Why would you want to do that?”

  I didn’t answer her question at first. Just kept looking at the thing that obscured the path to the ideal future.

  Then I said it.

  “Because I would want to see you.”

  Silence.

  Even with the Burnmask covering half her face, I saw the jolt go through her—like her breath caught in her chest. Her hands, still pressed together, started to tremble. Then tightened. She looked away, out toward the haze-choked street. Anywhere but me.

  She ughed once. A dry, brittle sound.

  “You’re lying.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not. For the same reason you bumped into me at my shop, I would want to see you.”

  “No,” she mumbled.

  “Who knows. I might find myself there, taken away by my feet the moment I lose myself in thought.”

  Her eyes met mine. So many emotions fred behind them; it felt like staring into the firebox of an engine. Rage. Hope. Pain. Fear. Regret. That st one hit me the hardest.

  “Timaeus, stop,” she whispered. “Don’t do this. Please, just abandon the thought. It made me happy, but please abandon it if it’s truly something you’re thinking.”

  “I won’t.” I let the words come softly, like I was pcing something delicate between us. “But I think… you wanted something from me today.”

  “I did,” she replied, with renewed desperation. “I wanted to talk with the boy from my childhood. I wanted… to see how he was, after all these years.”

  “Was it good then?” I asked. “Did you have a good day?”

  Her voice broke. “It was an amazing day. I was happy to just be there.”

  I nodded. “And that’s why… I’ll find a way beyond those walls.”

  She didn’t move. Her shoulders shook once. A tiny sound slipped out, too soft to name.

  And as I looked at her, all I could be reminded of was how heavy her first three lines from the game were. Seeing her here now, fully realized like this—I could see that the depths of her heart ran too deep for me to fathom.

  But, unlike with Meredi, I knew I could stand to be bold and not jeopardize anything. I could use the knowledge of this overwhelming emotion and bring her in closer, and succeed in establishing more consistent communication. Of the three women, Elsbeth was the most critical to understanding Lord Reinhold.

  I had to ensure her frequent visitations at least before the day was done. After that, understanding what she was doing, why she was doing it, and how she was doing it could come naturally.

  She let out a breath. “Don’t. Don’t say things like that to me. Don’t make me hope for something that can’t happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t—” Her breath hitched, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I don’t want him to see what face I’d make if you ever appeared at my door.”

  That blocked out the city’s noise.

  She hadn’t said her husband’s name. She didn’t have to. He was a guillotine over my neck as much as he was hers—though I was now beginning to get a glimpse of how dire the situation was.

  I looked at her, this woman in a ragged cloak and a burnmask, standing like a shattered statue trying to hold her pose.

  Her hand over her heart, she clutched her cloak. “If you were to come, I know I wouldn’t be able to hide it, because I am a… stupid, loose woman.”

  My heart stung hearing those words.

  “And that kind of miracle isn’t something for my wretched self.” She raised her head and looked at me through teary eyes. “So please, Timmie. Let me just have this. Just me getting to pretend that I’m your assistant again.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “It was such a fun, unexpected day.” She sucked in air. “I just don’t want to get you in trouble. Please… Please don’t ask me how to sneak past that wall.”

  I wasn’t an idiot.

  There was no questioning the affection she held toward me now. Holding onto what was a childhood crush, she sought out the person at the center of it and cimed for herself some moments of happiness. Timaeus was her escape.

  But that meant that she had to escape from something. With how dramatic this moment had become, I was feeling confident enough to accept that Reinhold was becoming—or already had become—the man who would plunge this city into chaos and get the moms killed.

  My next immediate move was clear.

  Bringing her here and decring my intention was like a shortcut that took Elsbeth to her emotional heights.

  “Hey, Elsbeth…”

  Now I had to do the work to catch her when she fell back down.

  “If talking’s all you want to do… Would you like to come back to my shop with me?”

  The weight on her shoulders seemed to lighten.

  “I didn’t want to upset you… And just like you… Yeah, I can accept just talking if you can.”

  She broke into a smile.

  “We still have a few hours to sunset. That works, right?”

  Elsbeth grinned and nodded. “Yes.” She let out a breath. “I would much rather that than be here.”

  “Sure. Follow me.”

  I walked on down the street, with Elsbeth a step behind me. I wonder what face I managed to wear, because on the inside, I was livid. That exchange with Elsbeth had galvanized me.

  Something was going on, and I feared for Elsbeth. Even if I knew that she would probably be safe until the end of the year, knowing that she could be suffering was too much for my heart.

  But as, I wasn’t strong enough to just say “Screw it all” and save them.

  For the moms, I need to watch her suffer for just a little longer.