Her words washed over him, and he realized just how much his head was spinning.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a shit liar despite your occupation.”
Ian only shook his head, putting out his hands. She shoved the bowl of peppered stew into them before dragging him over to the bed to sit.
“It’s been too long.” She pulled up the small stool from the corner, sitting on it so their knees were touching.
“I missed you too, Sis.”
“Eat first. Talk later.”
The first bite of food took his breath away, and he shoveled the stew into his mouth, barely chewing. The beans were just spicy enough he could feel the bite of them in the back of his throat. There were even a few potatoes and greens in the thick broth that melted on his tongue.
“If you throw up, you’re cleaning it,” she said, swatting his knee.
It was too late for the admonishment. The food was gone. He scraped the bowl a few times just to annoy her before setting it aside.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You need to start taking care of yourself. You’ve been getting worse.”
“I’ve just been busy. The resistance is destroying the city. Didn’t you hear?”
She rolled her eyes, grabbing the bowl from him to set it on the table and then throwing herself down on the bed beside him.
“That’s not an excuse, and you know it.”
“What’s been the gossip around here?”
She looked pointedly at the music box, but spoke anyway, her voice low.
“There’s been the usual complaining about the reduced rations and increased work hours from the soldiers. But a few of the girls have also had their customers talking about the dragon.” Her voice dropped even more at the last word. “Not in so many words, but they want to know who saw it—who believed what they saw.”
“The king and Harlow think they can ignore what happened, but even the soldiers want an explanation. We can’t arrest every single civilian and soldier that saw the dragon that night.”
“Don’t tempt him,” she said, voice harsh. “I’m sure he could try.”
“Have you heard from our people?”
She shook her head. “No one except you.”
Ian sighed. He didn’t expect otherwise, but he’d hoped. If anyone could find a way over the wall in its current condition, it would be Sofia.
“Did you grab glasses for the wine?” Ian asked, looking around.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Isadora smiled as she grabbed the wine and took a heavy swig. “I’m off for the night, so we’re going to drink more wine than we should, and you’re going to take a nap.”
“I’m fine.”
“Shut up and let me take care of you.”
He smiled, but grabbed the bottle from her, taking a long pull. The wine had just the slightest bitter edge at the end, but it was perfect. He rarely let down his guard with anyone—not since Leon had died. But his half-sister and fellow resistance worker was the one person he had left.
It didn’t matter when the music box ran out a few minutes later because they talked about nothing important as they passed the bottle back and forth, and it was everything he could have asked for.
***