At dinner that night, by the fire Kir had built between Savva’s camp and the Wanderer camp, Kana was disturbingly helpful, flitting here and there, arranging the food and woven grass mats on which to sit, pouring cool water into drinking bowls and smiling sweetly whenever Kir tried to help her.
He and Andrev sat opposite each other beside the fire, glaring at each other. This far from the Wanderer camp, Andrev kept his head bowed, kept his hair in his eyes. Kir held his head high and tried to smile at Kana.
She sat between them. “Ready to eat?”
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