Gar lay on his cot, carving the three leaf clover that symbolized the three Gods of the Seven Tribes on a reed flute, when the door flap opened and Monk walked in.

“You have a problem.”

Gar chuckled. “Only one?” The look on Monk’s face stopped his laughter. He wasn’t joking. “What’s my problem?”

“Kindra knows.” Monk didn’t have to elaborate.

Gar sat up and dropped the flute. His knuckles went white as he gripped the hilt of his dagger. “Who told her?”

Monk sat on Pike’s cot and pressed the bridge of his nose. “She asked me what happened to Geoffrey, but I could tell she already knew. It must have been Oak, or maybe your brother.”

Anger flared white hot, and Gar’s hand began to shake as he gripped the dagger. It didn’t matter which of them told her, there was nothing he could do about it now. “It must have been Oak, or she would have yelled at me this morning.”

Monk nodded. “She’s pretty upset. More so that no one told her before now.”

Gar rubbed his eyes and grabbed the flute. No point finishing it now—Kindra would never speak to him again. “I would have found a way to tell her soon. I was waiting for her to recover.”

“Probably best she found out on bed rest. She can’t kill you if she can’t move.” Monk tried to smile, but it fell right off his face. “Is that a flute?”

“Not anymore.” Gar tossed it into the coals. It hissed and spat, then turned black and caught fire.

“For Eoin,” Monk said. “I thought you took her to Trina’s Day out of pity.”

Gar sighed. “Nope. And since my brother ruined that night, I’ve been waiting for her to become a warrior.” He dropped his hands into his lap and stared at the burning flute. “Now she’s never going to forgive me.”

Monk was silent. It was so rare that Gar looked at him. “What?”

“Kindra Odion.” Monk laughed despite the mood. “You want to marry Kindra Odion. I never thought I’d hear that from anyone, much less you.”

Even Gar smiled. “I wouldn’t have believed it myself, but the control she has over her body…I could have killed Jor for interrupting on Trina’s Day.”

He stared at the wilting flute, but all he could see was Kindra arching her back against the moss on the ground, the small beads of sweat on her collarbone before he kissed it, and the way her lips parted as he ran his hands over her bare skin.

“Do you need a moment alone?” Monk said with a small laugh.

Gar smiled and shook his head. The flame in the hearth died and his smile turned sour. There went the last of the flute he’d been working on since the Warrior’s Ceremony. “I thought in time she’d come to love me.”

“She does.”

“Not the way I want her to. If she did, it wouldn’t matter what happened eight summers ago.”

Monk’s fingers drummed on his leg as he stared at the ashes of the flute in the fire. “It’s been a rough half-moon. Give her time.”

“That’s what Kaye said.”

“And Kaye knows Kindra better than anyone.” Monk’s fingers continued to drum.

Gar knew Kindra better than most, but not better than Kaye. Maybe he’d make another flute. He looked at Monk, but his friend was staring at the flame with a deep frown, fingers moving.

“What’s wrong?”

Monk looked up and flattened his fingers against his leg. “Other than all our plans falling to dust? I’ve just become a free man and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“A free man?”

“Before he died, Fennec asked me to take care of Kindra.” Monk shrugged. “If she couldn’t find a husband—and who was going to marry the Bride of Eoin?—it was my job to take care of her.”

Gar was stunned. Even Kindra’s own father didn’t think she would ever be loved for herself. “Fennec asked you to marry her?”

Monk nodded. “If no one else would. But you will.”

Gar shrugged. “She won’t marry me now.”

“Oh, she’ll marry you.” Monk began to pace the room. “I haven’t been given a glimpse of freedom to have it snatched away from me.” His fingers drummed on his elbows as he paced. “She holds a grudge, but we’ll make her forgive you.”

A bitter laugh escaped Gar. “Good luck.”

“That was a bad fight—she’s going to be on bed rest for at least half a moon.” Monk made his way to the door. “That’s a long time to be lonely. I’ll send my sisters to take care of her for now. She’ll be begging you to come back after listening to their gossipy nonsense.”