“Oh,” said Lovisa, then cursed herself for sounding interested. You make me feel like a child, she thought, still jumpy from the strange pressure of Nev’s purring fox against her leg.
The two girls sipped their drinks, not looking at each other. Lovisa didn’t know why Nev should matter to her—when Pari was dead and her parents were monsters; when the Queen of Monsea was imprisoned in the attic; when she didn’t know how to think, or what to do, or why she was always such a consummate coward. Nor did she know why she cared whether Nev minded about Mari. And why I’m always crying, she thought, furiously blinking back tears.
“What makes you jealous?” she asked.
Nev sighed. “I can get jealous if I have feelings for someone.”
“So, if you’re sleeping with someone but you don’t have feelings, you don’t get jealous?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had sex with anyone I didn’t have feelings for.”
“Do you have feelings for Nori Orfa?” Lovisa asked, suddenly concerned.
“Nori Orfa,” Nev repeated, as if she didn’t understand the name.
“I heard a rumor,” Lovisa said, not mentioning that she herself had seen Nori leaving Nev’s room. “That you have a thing with him.”
“With Nori Orfa,” Nev said flatly.
“Yes,” said Lovisa, growing impatient. “That’s his family name. The tea manor boy from your own province up north. I mean, you’re drinking that tea for some reason, aren’t you?”
Nev’s head went back and her shoulders straightened, almost imperceptibly. “That’s a nosy question,” Nev said.
“True,” said Lovisa.
“Do you have feelings for Mari?”
“No.”
“He’s extremely decent,” Nev said, “as long as you don’t mind someone with a compulsive need to be good at everything.”
Lovisa was outraged. What was wrong with wanting to be good at things? It was amazing, how good Mari was at things! Including sex! “Why did you break up with him, anyway?” she shot back.
“You’re asking a lot of nosy questions.”
“So are you!”
Nev took a few sips of tea, then stared into her cup, her expression impenetrable. “It’s hard to explain,” she finally said. “Mari thought I was always right about everything. He would’ve done anything I asked.”
“He loved you,” said Lovisa, feeling sick and mean.
“He couldn’t even see me clearly,” said Nev, “so, no, not really. And he was such a pushover that I always felt like I was controlling him. It was uneven. I was smothering in his adulation.”
“Sounds terrible,” Lovisa said viciously.
“You don’t need to be jealous,” Nev said. “He knows now that I’m not perfect.”
“I’m not jealous!”
“Good,” said Nev. “It’s probably different with you, more healthy. He could adore you, but he’s not going to forget who you are, right? He’s known you all his life.”
“He doesn’t adore me,” Lovisa said. “We don’t have feelings. I’ve been having trouble sleeping and last night he helped me fall asleep.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Lovisa jumped up from the bed, gratified when the fox kit yelped and went sprawling. She marched to the window and glared through the glass at silhouettes of trees and buildings, lined with the pink and gold of the rising sun. She couldn’t believe they were even having this stupid conversation. How did Nev get her to reveal such personal things?
“Nori never told me he had two names,” Nev said.
“What?” said Lovisa, turning back in surprise.
Nev was staring hard into her cup. Her voice was even, but low. “Especially not that his family name was Orfa,” she said. “I know plenty of people at home who work for the Orfas.”
Instantly, Lovisa understood. Nori Orfa, the wealthy tea manor boy, had pretended to be plain-old, one-named Nori from home, poor like Nev, humble like Nev, as part of his tactical pursuit of her. That was how he’d ingratiated himself. He’d probably emphasized his northern accent with her to hook her, make her feel like he was the kind of boy she’d known all her life. He’d probably talked of places in Torla’s Neck they both knew, while leaving out the names of his particular friends. It was what she would’ve done too, if she’d had Nori’s resources and her goal had been to take Nev in. There were traveling actors in Winterkeep, especially outside of Ledra, dancers, players, magicians who went from town to town, looking for audiences. Some of them were impersonators—of the Governor of Mantiper, or the richest lady in Borza, or a king from the Royal Continent. Nori was a player too, impersonating a human who wasn’t a piece of garbage.
She understood him perfectly and she wanted to scratch his face off. “There’s more,” she said, clearing her throat uncomfortably. “I think he has a girlfriend at home.”
Nev had pressed herself into the corner of the bed, head bent. She looked as small as one of Lovisa’s little brothers.
“I’m sorry,” Lovisa said. “I think I know her name. I was considering writing her a letter about her boyfriend. Do you want her name too?”
“No,” Nev whispered.
“Okay,” said Lovisa. “I won’t write to her if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t mind,” said Nev. “But don’t use my name or describe me. For all I know, she’s my neighbor and she’ll call on me one day to doctor her horse or something.”
“Right,” said Lovisa. “Of course.” She didn’t know what else to say. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. If I’d realized you were a normal person with normal feelings, I would have. But I’ve always thought you were on a plane above me.
“What will you do?” she asked.
“I’m going home,” said Nev.
“What do you mean?” said Lovisa, instantly worried. “In the middle of the term? Don’t let him ruin your studies, Nev!”
“It was decided yesterday,” said Nev. “I’m taking a leave of absence. There are—I’ve been—it’s best if I go home for a bit. I’m leaving today.”
“Oh. How sudden,” said Lovisa, crushed by this, not understanding. “But, why?”
Nev took a moment to study her own hands. Then she raised a face to Lovisa that contained both uncertainty and defiance. “Apparently I’ve learned some things,” she said. “Apparently they’re dangerous.”