"Zoya Nazyalensky," she says in kind, placing her hand in his. Her grip is firm, but it's not as bruising as it often is with most of the men she meets. For one, Dion hasn't insulted her. He deserves to keep his hand.

"Perhaps after you've claimed this room if you want it"—she glances around as though determining whether it's a room worth claiming, and it is, in its own way, especially if he wants to avoid troubling himself with finding a bed much later—"I can see if the Phoenix is here. I wouldn't want you to go without a bed. I've heard that they're apparently very short on hospitality here."

Ridiculous, really. Why kidnap a handful of people and not provide them with beds?

While she shouldn't let herself grow distracted with stargazing, Zoya's not quite sure what her mission is. Nikolai isn't here, so there is no need to protect the crown and worry about Ravka. Zoya's a little lost for the first time in a long time.