"Useful trivia. I'll add it to my memoirs."
Cerys didn't slow, yet her tone softened a sliver. "Save the jokes—focus on breathing. One foot, then the other."
A pause stretched as they wove by shuttered stalls painted with peeling murals of desert lilies. Night mist clung to the paint, turning the flowers into dripping, colorful ghosts.
Rodion's cool voice slipped into the hush.
Mikhailis exhaled—a low, warm sound that misted in the chill. "Of course Serelith makes an escape plan sound like a love letter."
Cerys cut a sharp right, entering a back lane so narrow two people could barely walk side by side. The buildings leaned in here, half-timbered beams meeting overhead until only a ribbon of sky remained. Moonlight dropped away; the lane turned blue-black.
