After quickly washing up with the tepid water I had in my room, I changed into my other dress. I didn't linger, didn't look at anyone as I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the water buckets without being told they needed filled. Titus gave me a startled but approving look as I stepped out into the hot summer morning. He continued to send me surprised glances as I moved from one chore to the other, working with the sort of speedy efficiency I'd learned growing up in a military house. I didn't speak to anyone, didn't make eye contact.

I was pretty sure that Titus assumed it was his influence that had sparked the change, but, the truth was, I only wanted to keep my mind off Gracen. I didn't really care what the steward or anyone else thought of me, not that I knew now what Gracen's assessment of my character was.

I hated myself for sleeping with him, for believing that he'd look at sex with me as anything other than a mistake. I felt like a fool. I'd only known Gracen for a little over a week, and I'd thought we had some sort of special connection.

How could I have been so stupid? How had I let my emotions get the better of my judgment? I had been careful in the past few years to not let that happen, always trying to make logical decisions, things that could be calculated and planned. I supposed this was what I got for following my heart.

Still, I couldn't stop myself from being a little disappointed when the whole day passed without seeing Gracen at all. I told myself it was better that way, that I needed to cool down, to reevaluate my situation, and to really think about what the hell I was doing here in the first place. And what I should do next.

Gracen had been a distraction, I told myself. I still had no idea how I'd gotten to this time and place, but I'd given the matter too little thought over the past few days. I'd originally told myself that once I knew I was safe, I could take the time to start working through the problem.

Except all I'd really thought about was Gracen and a lot of good that had done me.

By the time evening came around, I'd finished up my work, and the skies outside were turning a bright red mixed with velvet darkness. I'd also finally managed to work the anger out of me.

More or less.

Wiping my hands on a hand cloth, I untied my apron and slumped heavily into the closest chair. It was quiet in the kitchen, and for a moment, I could almost pretend that everything I was trying to forget hadn't really happened.

“Master Lightwood is a happy man today.”

Dye's voice came from my right. I opened my eyes and watched her set a couple of empty buckets by the door, ready to be filled tomorrow first thing in the morning. I contemplated getting the task over and done with now before I went to bed, if only to see the surprise on Titus's face.

“He’s a smilin’ and a toastin’ like he be one of dem generals fightin’ the war.”

I frowned at her, a pang of something sharp going through my chest at the thought that Gracen had spent the day cheerful when I'd been so utterly miserable.

“What’s got him so happy?” I asked, wondering if I had possibly missed Clara’s arrival. Surely he'd be happy to see his unspoiled fiancée. I knew the Lightwoods were entertaining guests; I just hadn’t cared enough to find out who.

“The young Master Lightwood, he’s gone and joined the Redcoats. Left just after breakfast.” She gave me a curious look, as if I should've known.

I felt my heart jump into my throat, and my eyes widen in surprise. Whatever anger I'd felt towards Gracen earlier was now replaced by dread and worry. I looked at Dye in disbelief, unable to wrap my head around what she just said.

“Gracen?”

Dye nodded. “Master Lightwood gots himself a nice bit of attention now,” the black woman said in disgust. It was clear where her loyalties were. “Would almost serve him right if those rebels sent his boy back in a box.”

I jumped to my feet and grabbed Dye's arm. “Don't say things like that!” My voice came out more harshly than I'd intended.

She pulled her arm away, and I let it go. Her eyes flashed as she stared up at me.

“You’s a fool, Honor Daviot. Ain’t no place for the likes of you in a Lightwood bed.”

My eyes widened even as heat flooded my face. How many people knew what happened between us? He'd acted like what we'd done had been something to be ashamed of, but maybe once I'd told him that I'd had sex before, he'd changed his mind and decided that bedding a servant might be something to brag about.

“You best be findin’ your way home, or wherever you going, and leave matters here be,” Dye warned, her voice soft. “Dis ain’t no place for a girl like you.”

I was still trying to figure out how to reply when she whirled around and walked away. I stayed where I was, watching her go. A few minutes later, I retreated to my own room, not wanting to risk running into anyone else.

Unsurprisingly, sleep didn't want to come. I couldn’t stop thinking of the many ways Gracen’s military venture would end badly, the different scenarios playing out in grotesque details in my mind. He definitely didn’t lack bravery, and he had killed that soldier when it came down to it, but I knew that the war would stretch out for years to come. Too much could happen before the end, and even if he survived, his world would be changed forever.

I contemplated running after him, stealing away in the dead of the night and finding my way to where he'd enlisted. I thought that maybe the details would be in the study somewhere, and if I was careful and quiet, I could learn where he was stationed and get him out of there before he got himself killed.

It was my fault, I finally admitted. That's why the guilt was eating me. His enlistment was my fault. We'd been at each other’s throats this morning, and now he was gone, off to join the Redcoats in a war they would lose. To spite me, because I'd told him not to do it.

If something happened to him, I'd never forgive myself. I had to find him.

I couldn’t just sit here and wait, going about my daily chores as if I didn't know what was coming. I stood up suddenly, making my way to the dresser and pulling out my uniform. I'd found the camouflage pants and shirt the other day, patches of blood still dried from my encounter with the Redcoats. They were clean now. All I needed to do was put them on, and I'd be ready to go.

As I started to pull my nightgown off, my father’s words raced back to the forefront of my thoughts. I could almost picture him standing in front of me, frowning in disapproval, warning me of how I was, yet again, letting my emotions get the better of me.

That if I was going to get home, I needed to stop worrying about Gracen and start using my head.

This was absurd. I couldn’t do this. I knew nothing of the world outside other than what little I’d read in my brother’s books, and even that hadn't been enough for the real thing. In theory, I knew the area, but I knew what it would be like in more than two centuries, not what it was like now.

Shit.

I stared out the small window above my bed into the starry night beyond. I was a stranger here. This wasn't my time, and I knew I'd only made it this far because of Gracen. I wanted to help him, but I didn't know where to start. If Ennis was here, he would've known enough to really help. Me? I read one book years ago. Everything else was what little I remembered from high school. It wasn't much. At least not enough to do what I needed to do.

I balled my fists, feeling my nails cutting into my palms. I hated that I had to acknowledge my helplessness, that I couldn't do this without help. I may have saved Gracen's life, but I couldn't deny that he'd saved mine as well.

Damn you, Gracen Lightwood.

I was angry at him all over again. I was angry at how he'd made me fall for him, how he'd taken my attention away from the more important matter of finding my way home. How he'd just up and left me behind without so much as a goodbye.

And I hated myself more for caring about any of it.

I sank back onto my bed, the anger draining as quickly as it came. I couldn't take any more of this. I might not know what I wanted to do about re-enlisting or about my idiot of a fiancé, but at least there, I had family, a place I knew.

I had to get home.

That was the only solution. I had to find some way back home. There was nothing for me here, not that there should be. Whatever delusions I momentarily had, whatever false opinions I'd used to shroud the truth, I couldn’t do it anymore. This wasn't my home, and it never would be. I shouldn’t be here.

I had to find my way back.