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“I do not know.”

Realizing I’ve lost him, I rush to add, “Truly, I do not know. I left for d’Almerita the day after the sinking.”

“To gain the Voyagers’ support against us, or against Lord Hinton?”

Neither, but I do not wish to lie to him.

“To know where those in Murwood End stand before we move forward.”

A partial truth.

“And you?”

His chin rises defiantly. “The same.”

Neither of us will reveal any more. Will it be enough to avoid an all-out war with our neighbors to the east?

“Think on it. We’d planned to leave this very day but can delay until tomorrow.”

Which will give me time to talk to Aedre as well.

“What say you?”

Again, he smiles as if he hasn’t a care in the world. Since we last met, the queen’s commander has grown bolder, but he’s certainly not lost his sense of humor.

“I say we drink and meet again tomorrow, midday.”

McGreghere pounds his mug on the table then, a sign of good faith.

I was in the capital of Edingham the first time I saw a Highlander do that. And while some of my companions stared in horror at the men who slammed their mugs down in unison, I admired the gesture. Stokerton joins him, and I smile at the public show of unity. If it is meant to be a warning, as some in Meria suggest, then I am so warned.

But if I’m to drink with my enemy, I might as well get some measure of enjoyment out of it. Since there really is nothing else at the moment to bring me any pleasure.

I failed to convince Aldwine.

And the disastrous way Aedre and I parted . . . I still know not what I will say to her. She seemed quite adamant about not returning to the capital with us. Or marrying me.

My only consolation is the possibility that she will change her mind. Although I hadn’t thought to take a wife, I’ve become more accustomed to the idea of Aedre at court with me.

At home with me.

In my bed, night after night.

And so, I drink.