I smell it before I see it.
Soap. Real soap. The kind that thinks it's better than me.
I push the door open with my hip, already halfway into a complaint about prices or fleas or why inns never have enough hooks for jewelry— and then I see them.
Ogden.
Bare-chested. Hair damp. Shirt discarded like a moral afterthought.
And Loma.
Sweet. Wide-eyed. Wrapped in a blanket like she's in a romance ballad instead of a rented room with a man who once tried to have me arrested and then begged me not to curse his dick off.
I stop dead.
They freeze.
The room is quiet in that way where even the fire is embarrassed.
"Oh," I say.
That's it. Just oh.
Ogden looks like someone just announced an audit. Loma lights up like she's spotted a friend at a garden party.
"Saya!" she says. "Oh good, you're back! I didn't know you knew Sir Ogden—"
Sir.
Oh. We're doing sir now.
I lean against the doorframe and slowly look Ogden up and down.
Really take my time.
"Well," I say pleasantly, "this is new."
Ogden clears his throat. "This is not—"
"—what it looks like?" I finish. "Because I disagree. It looks exactly like what it is. You just upgraded your linens."
Loma frowns. "Saya, what do you mean?"
She looks genuinely confused. Which is somehow worse.
Ogden straightens, all dignity and posture and that infuriating heroic jaw. "Loma, there's nothing improper here. We were merely talking."
"In bed," I say.
"After bathing," I add.
"Mostly naked," I finish.
I tap the blanket with my toe. "Bold conversational choices."
Loma flushes. "He's been very respectful!"
Oh. Oh no.
I laugh. Once. Sharp.
"Yes," I say. "That's his signature move."
Ogden glares at me. "Enough."
I tilt my head. "Is that the voice you used when you told me I was bad for your reputation while you were buttoning your trousers?"
Loma blinks. "What?"
Ogden snaps, "That was different."
I grin. It's not a nice grin.
"Everything always is," I say. "With you."
Loma looks between us, uneasy now. "Saya… did something happen between you two?"
I consider it.
Then I shrug. "Oh, nothing serious. Just theft, threats, public humiliation, extremely enthusiastic sex, betrayal, and an incident involving a magistrate's horse."
Ogden sputters. "That is a gross misrepresentation!"
"Fine," I concede. "The horse was innocent."
Loma gasps. "You—you knew each other like that?"
Ogden opens his mouth.
I beat him to it.
"He promised me things," I say lightly. "Honor. Protection. A future. Then he panicked, pretended he'd never met me, and walked away very upright."
Ogden snaps, "I was trying to do the right thing."
"For who?" I ask sweetly.
Silence.
Loma hugs the blanket tighter. "Sir Ogden told me he's devoted to virtue."
I snort. I really try not to. I fail.
"Oh darling," I say. "He's devoted to feeling virtuous. That's not the same thing."
Ogden steps forward. "You don't get to poison this."
I step closer too. Close enough that he smells like soap and guilt.
"I don't poison," I say quietly. "I reveal."
Then I look at Loma again, and—damn it—my voice softens despite myself.
"He's very good at sounding kind," I tell her. "At making you feel safe. At convincing you that you're special."
Ogden's jaw tightens.
"And maybe," I add, "you are."
I straighten, suddenly tired.
"But he's a gentleman like polished armor is protection. Looks great. Cracks when it matters."
Loma doesn't speak. She just looks at Ogden.
Really looks.
Ogden swallows.
I turn toward the stairs.
"Enjoy the soap," I call over my shoulder. "Try not to slip on the history."
At the top step I pause, glance back once.
"Oh—and Ogden?"
He meets my eyes.
"If you hurt her," I say pleasantly, "I won't curse your dick."
I smile.
"I'll curse your reputation."
Then I go upstairs, boots loud on purpose, heart doing that stupid, furious, jealous, aching thing I absolutely refuse to name.