“What about the Tithe?”
“What Tithe?”
I stood from the little bench. “The Tithe—taxes, whatever. Twice a year.”
“There are taxes on city dwellers, but there is no Tithe.” She clicked her tongue. “But the High Lord of Spring enacts one.”
I didn’t want to think about it entirely, not yet—not with that letter now on its way to him, if not already delivered. So I reached for the small box on the vanity and pulled out her amulet. “Here.” I handed over the gold-and-jewel-encrusted thing. “Thank you.”
Amren’s brows rose as I dropped it into her waiting palm. “You gave it back.”
“I didn’t realize it was a test.”
She set it back into the case. “Keep it. There’s no magic to it.”
I blinked. “You lied—”
She shrugged, heading for the door. “I found it at the bottom of my jewelry box. You needed something to believe you could get out of the Prison again.”
“But Rhys kept looking at it—”
“Because he gave it to me two hundred years ago. He was probably surprised to see it again, and wondered why I’d given it to you. Likely worried why I might have given it to you.”
I clenched my teeth, but Amren was already breezing through the door with a cheerful, “You’re welcome.”