The clouds drifted across the sky like smoke, the only silent part of the new day dawning upon Milatanur. Esmera leaned over the edge of the balcony, propping herself on her elbows.

The bright flowers embellishing the ground sang to welcome the crisp morning. The wind giggled and whispered as it swirled around Esmera and disappeared among the mountains. She knew there was a town nearby because if she closed her eyes and quietened her mind, she could hear the rumble of people moving but nothing more than that. She fancied she glimpsed the buildings between two mountain peaks ahead.

She tried to extend her perception, zeroing in on the sound of the town until it was the only one filling her head, but that was no help. She couldn't discern any voices within the rumble, any scraping of chairs or clattering of crockery.

She frowned. Never had she experienced this when using her auditory ability, not even when she eavesdropped on every level of Tauram's apartment building the previous day. The town must be quite a distance away, and even her power had its limitations.

So deep was Esmera's focus that the unmistakable tap of footsteps behind her escaped her notice until a voice cut into her concentration.

"Ready to go?" An annoyingly familiar voice boomed behind her, a startling contrast to the murmurs in the distance Esmera had been straining to hear.

She jumped. "You really need to stop sneaking up on me." She glared at Tauram as he leaned on the balcony beside her.

A playful wisp of wind blew through his black hair. Esmera's fingers itched to right it again, but she also kind of liked the ruffled look on him. Somehow he made it elegant instead of untidy, as he did the dark, rumpled cloak, long white shirt that looked like it hadn't been ironed since he had been banished to Arkōsāra and the narrow brown trousers that had a crease running down one leg.

Maybe it was his regality. Maybe it was something else entirely.

"I didn't think it was possible to sneak up on an śradūgara." Tauram cocked his head. "I wasn't even trying that time."

Esmera huffed. "You still nearly gave me a heart attack."

His infuriating smirk deepened as if he was fighting a laugh. "My apologies, Lady Esmera."

She rolled her eyes. She didn't need to be reminded how dreadfully incompetent she was as an auditory sorcerer. Maybe it was because she hadn't trained her ability. Maybe it was because she wasn't as powerful as the rest of her family had been.

Once the unwelcome idea had taken root in Esmera's mind, it wouldn't be removed. Tauram had said that śradūgaraha could command armies and win wars. Esmera couldn't even hear people talking if they were too far away. Jilhari was crazy if she thought Esmera could be anywhere near ready to face Ruagu within one week.

She sighed as she fidgeted with the loose end of the fabric wrapped around her waist. She hadn't known where to tuck it.

Tauram's eyes widened as he studied her from top to toe, starting at the closed black slippers with loops securing them to her ankles, up the red skirt and blouse embroidered with gold, right up to her curly hair, which was pulled back by a hair tie she had scavenged from the dresser in the room she had claimed for herself.

Esmera swallowed. Either she was wearing this dreadfully wrong or she reminded Tauram of someone.

She should've asked for help instead of guessing how all the different parts of the outfit came together. She should've asked for permission before using someone else's clothes.

She looked down as she pulled the dark shawl tighter around her shoulders. "I borrowed this from the wardrobe in my room because I thought I'd fit in better when we went to claim my lark. I'm sorry... I didn't mean any disrespect—"

"Esmera."

Tauram's hands settled on her shoulders, and there was nowhere for her to look but up at him, at the something restless stirring behind his placid eyes.

Strolling into a Milatanuran town in her tatted Converses and tight jeans would attract attention a banished prince and a lady who was believed to be dead would want to avoid, so that's why Esmera had changed her clothes, but now that Tauram was staring at her with a look she couldn't comprehend, she had to wonder if that was the best idea.

Probably not. Esmera never had the best ideas.

Tauram gave her a soft smile. "You don't need to apologise for anything. That room belongs to my sister, Namesha. She'd have minded you borrowing her clothes ten years ago, but she would've changed since. I haven't seen her to be able to tell you for sure." He shook his head, his eyes going distant as if he and Esmera were in front of the painting of the royal family in the Himalayan exhibit once again.

Esmera had never met Namesha, but now she wondered if she had seen her, if the sister Tauram had left behind all those years ago lived on the trio of bickering siblings he had brought to life on the canvas.

Esmera wasn't sure what to do or say, so she patted Tauram's shoulder. "You'll see her soon, once you have your throne back."

Tauram smiled faintly. It terrified Esmera because it showed his fear, fear he had hidden well beneath his amused smiles and teasing comments. Before Esmera could comfort him, spin one of the sweet lies she used to get herself through frightening times, he straightened and cleared his throat.

"Let me help you with your parsi."

So that was what this outfit was called. Esmera looked down as Tauram's nimble fingers untucked the sheet of fabric from the underskirt she wore beneath it. He folded it into pleats as irritatingly perfect as he was. His skin brushed against hers as he tucked it in again and wrapped the loose end around her waist.

"Thanks." She looked down at her now tidy garment, at the gold-rimmed shoes peeking out from under it, anywhere but Tauram. She knew that only a snarky comment and a smirk she liked way more than she would admit awaited her.

But when he tilted her face up to his, there was nothing of the sort, only a softness Esmera didn't understand.

Pity.

Yes, that must be it. He must feel sorry for her, the orphan stumbling through a kingdom whose rules and rituals and attire she didn't understand, and she couldn't blame him. She felt sorry for herself more often than she should.

But that didn't explain why her cheeks were starting to burn.

Tauram opened his mouth, but Esmera would never know for sure what he had wanted to say because he closed it and stepped back.

"We should leave now in order to arrive at the Shelter for Unclaimed and Abandoned Familiars by the time they open. We have no idea how long it'll take to fill out the paperwork to claim your lark."

Esmera nodded, then jumped as Lundas appeared out of nowhere in the same fashion as his master, brushing against her legs and then Tauram's, purring. Esmera let out a relieved breath as he put some distance between himself and them. It caught as the spotted leopard ran in circles too fast for Esmera to follow. She was getting dizzy trying.

When Lundas's mottled golden form became a blur, Tauram pulled Esmera to him by her waist. Before she could catch her breath and ask him what on earth he was doing, a tube of light enclosed them. Esmera threw her arms around Tauram without thinking about it too much, only knowing that whatever was happening, he'd keep her safe.

She hadn't felt like that about anyone in years. She hadn't dared to because she knew they would always disappoint her in the end.

Tauram hadn't—not yet—because the light disappeared, and he was still there, still with his hands on Esmera.

Even so, Esmera hesitated to open her eyes. Surely Tauram wouldn't take her into danger, but she couldn't be sure. As long as her eyes were closed, she didn't have to face anything unwelcome.

"Esmera, you can let go of me now."

She opened her eyes to see that she and Tauram had arrived somewhere solid and bright with morning light. She unwrapped her arms from around him and wrapped them around herself instead. "What just happened?"

"Lundas transported us to Parnakshi, the capital of Milatanur." Tauram smoothed his long shirt.

Lundas gave a smug purr at their ankles.

Esmera blinked. "How?"

"His ability is to teleport me anywhere within his sight."

Esmera nodded, thinking. "So that's why he couldn't teleport you to Milatanur."

"Exactly. Besides, a forceful magic keeps this realm separate from Arkōsāra, a magic that can only be overpowered by the will of the divine."

"Someone with power like Jilhari's."

Tauram nodded, and Esmera allowed herself a little smile. Maybe she wasn't as out of her depth as she thought she was. Maybe she was starting to figure Milatanur out. Maybe there was some hope that she could make a home for herself in this realm she had been uprooted from before she could even remember.

Esmera stared around at the alley where they found themselves. It was flanked by two white houses with dust settled into the grain of the walls and little flowers in rectangular boxes sitting on the windowsills.

The cobbled ground was spotless. Esmera had never seen any town as clean as this. Then again, she had never been to a magical town. The people of Parnakshi probably used their abilities or familiars to keep their streets tidy for them.

Esmera tried not to look impressed at Lundas's feat. His ego was swollen enough as it was, and so was his master's. She pulled the shawl over her head, obscuring her face from anyone who might remember the Finnaz family well enough to recognise her.

"Why didn't you warn me that we were about to teleport?" She raised her eyebrows at Tauram.

"Maybe I like surprising you." Tauram flashed a smile before turning to leave the alley.

"You're a jerk," Esmera said, scurrying to keep up with his long strides.

"A jerk that you happen to need." He grinned as he pulled his hood up.