Chapter 107. Two Seren

For a heartbeat the square tried to decide which truth to admire. On the step behind Aria, Seren stood with her apron still creased from work and salt on her thumbs where supper had meant to happen. At the west gate, the other Seren lifted her chin into the torchlight with the composure of a woman who had already rehearsed this entrance and liked how it sat on her bones.

The moving door at Aria’s shoulder held its edge steady, seat tucked into the null like a bench that knew the weight it was meant to bear; the drawer they had taught the field to KEEP hung patient as a living margin; the well wrote nothing new but trimmed its frost so names would have room. Alicia stood half a step behind the real Seren, hands bare, posture correct enough to pass in any room that valued manners more than breath.

The Severed Flame’s leader waited beside the gatepost with his usual elegance, four dark coats fanned behind him like parentheses, plates in their pockets like arguments. He made