Tower of Dawn (Throne of Glass #6) by Sarah J. Maas

She’d known that already—and had asked him if he’d ever used spies for his own … position.

He told her no. Though he didn’t reveal that he’d once had men who worked covertly, but they weren’t like the spies Aedion and Ren Allsbrook had employed. That he himself had worked within Rifthold this spring and summer. But talking about his former guards … He fell silent.

She’d remained quiet after that, as if sensing his silence was not from lack of conversation.

She brought him into a quarter of the city that was full of small gardens and parks, the houses modest yet well kept. Firmly middle-class. It reminded him a bit of Rifthold and yet … Cleaner. Brighter. Even with the streets so quiet this morning, it teemed with life.

Especially at the elegant little house they stopped before, where a merry-eyed young woman spotted them from the window a level above. She called out to Yrene in Halha, then vanished inside.

“Well, that answers that question,” Yrene murmured, just as the front door opened and that woman appeared, a plump babe in her arms.

The mother paused upon seeing Chaol, but he offered a polite bob of his head.

The woman smiled prettily at him, but it turned outright devious as she faced Yrene and waggled her eyebrows.

Yrene laughed, and the sound … Beautiful as the sound was, it was nothing like the smile on her face. The delight.

He’d never seen a face so lovely.

Not as Yrene dismounted and took the chubby baby—the portrait of newborn health—from the mother’s outstretched arms. “Oh, she’s beautiful,” she cooed, brushing a finger over a round cheek.

The mother beamed. “Fat as a dirt-grub.” She spoke in Chaol’s own tongue, either because Yrene used it with her, or from noticing his own features, so different from the various norms here in Antica. “Hungry as a pig, too.”

Yrene bobbed and swayed with the baby, cooing at the girl. “The feeding is going well?”

“She’d be on my breast day and night if I let her,” the mother groused, not at all embarrassed to be discussing such things with him present.

Yrene chuckled, her smile growing as she let a tiny hand wrap around her finger. “She looks healthy as can be,” she observed. Then looked over the mother. “And you?”

“I’ve been following the regimen you gave me—the baths helped.”

“No bleeding?”

A shake of the head. Then she seemed to notice him, because she said a bit more quietly, and Chaol suddenly found the buildings down the street very interesting, “How long until I can—you know? With my husband.”

Yrene snorted. “Give it another seven weeks.”

The woman let out a squawk of outrage. “But you healed me.”

“And you nearly bled out before I could.” Words that brooked no argument. “Give your body time to rest. Other healers would tell you eight more weeks at a minimum, but … try it at seven. If there is any discomfort—”

“I know, I know,” the woman said, waving a hand. “It’s just … been a while.”

Yrene let out another laugh, and Chaol found himself gazing toward her as the healer said, “Well, you can wait a little longer at this point.”

The woman gave Yrene a wry smile as she took back her burbling baby. “I certainly hope you enjoy yourself, since I can’t.”

Chaol caught her meaningful glance in his direction before Yrene did.

And he got no small amount of smug satisfaction from watching Yrene blink, then stiffen, then go red. “What—oh. Oh, no.”

The way she spat that no … He took no satisfaction in that.

The woman only laughed, hefting the baby a bit higher as she headed into her charming house. “I certainly would.”

The door shut.

Still red, Yrene turned to him, distinctly not meeting his eyes. “She’s opinionated.”

Chaol chuckled. “I hadn’t realized that I was a firm no.”

She glared at him, hauling herself onto her mare. “I don’t share a bed with patients. And you’re with Captain Faliq,” she added quickly. “And you’re—”

“Not in fit form to pleasure a woman?”

He was shocked he said it. But again more than a tad smug to see her eyes flare.

“No,” Yrene said, somehow going redder. “Certainly not that. But you’re … you.”

“I’m trying not to be insulted.”

She waved a hand, looking everywhere but at him. “You know what I mean.”

That he was a man from Adarlan, that he’d served the king? He certainly did. But he said, deciding to have mercy on her, “I was joking, Yrene. I … am with Nesryn.”

She swallowed, still blushing like mad. “Where is she today?”

“She went to attend the ceremony with her family.” Nesryn hadn’t invited him, and he’d claimed he wanted to put off their own ride through the city. Yet here he now was.

Yrene nodded distantly. “Are you going to the party tonight—at the palace?”

“Yes. Are you?”

Another nod. Stilted silence. Then she said, “I’m afraid to work on you today—just in case we lose track of time again and miss the party.”

“Would it be so bad if we did?”