They hadn't made it far from the greenhouse before Azriel spoke again, his earlier composure giving way to something more pointed.
"So," he said, tone deceptively casual, "a spy. In the family greenhouse. That you just happened to be chasing alone."
"That's what I said."
"Mm." He glanced sideways at her, something skeptical flickering behind his expression. "And you didn't think to call for anyone? A knight, a maid, servent, literally anyone who wasn't you running headfirst into a hedge maze after a stranger?"
"It happened quickly. I reacted."
"Recklessly."
"I wasn't reckless, I was—"
"Chasing a supposed spy alone through a garden with poor visibility and dozens of blind corners," Azriel cut in, voice sharpening now. "Forgive me if I find the story a little difficult to swallow."
Eleanore stopped walking, turning to face him fully, something hot and sharp rising in her chest. "You think I'm lying."
