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I am not ready to speak to him. In fact, I will likely never be ready. I watch as Aiken steps onto the stone walkway. Wearing his robes, Aiken appears every bit the Elderman he poses as.

I have so many questions after Aedre’s revelations. She could not say, precisely, why he posed as an Elderman, but only that she’d overheard enough of her husband’s conversations the past few days to know Aiken was allied with the king and that he spied on Father Silvester. And, of course, that I would be instrumental in bringing peace to the Isle, though she could not say precisely how. We’d talked well into the night. Of Meria. Of Edingham. And Murwood End. Sharing tales of our childhood and dreams for the future of the Isle.

I admitted that it was my sister’s fervent hope to cease the terrible animosity between two neighbors that will forever be bound by a shared past, and by a border that stretches nearly the entire Isle. We spoke of arranged marriages, of my father’s descent into darkness, and of my hope for the future.

I thanked her for sharing her knowledge of Aiken with me, to which she responded, “I would not break a confidence of my husband’s, but since he did not directly tell me of Aiken’s deception, and since I am convinced you will play a vital role in all of this, it felt as if it was my duty to tell you.”

Together, we forged a path forward. One Cettina would welcome. Of that, I am sure.

“Aiken,” I greet him.

I’d been extremely angry at first. But this morn, when I woke, I thought of how little anger served my father. Of how, for the first time in years, I have no master. A widow, afforded more freedom than most women, and a princess no longer exiled.

Nay, tis the time for hope, not anger. Even still, I’d not sought him out, unsure what to say.

“A servant saw you coming this way. You are a difficult woman to find.”

He looks out, breathing deeply. And is as affected as I’d been when I first ventured out here.

“Of all the places on the Isle, this is undoubtedly the most beautiful.”

“I’ve heard,” I venture, “the Cliffs of Murh in Murwood End have that distinction.”

“They are striking, to be sure. But always so cold.” Continuing to look out to the sea, he says, “I am leaving on the morrow.”

I realize then, Aiken is sad. A rare emotion from my companion, which I’ve only glimpsed when he speaks of his mother’s unwillingness to come to Meria. Apparently he’s asked her many, many times. Has offered her housing, and protection, and work, if she so desires. I’d wondered how an Elderman had enough coin to do such a thing.

“Aye?” I respond.

Frowning, he gives me the same look that I once mistook for longing, having believed it could not be so. But I do not mistake his look now. It is longing. Desire. How could I have doubted it before?

“You should not fear for your safety here,” he says. “You will be escorted to the port by the king’s own guards. Finally reunited with your sister.”

“Where will you go?” I ask, knowing the answer already.

Aedre came to my chamber earlier and told me Aiken had convinced Father Silvester of his need to accompany the king’s retinue north, to Murwood End. But that had not been her biggest revelation. I could not have predicted what she next revealed.

The king has another son, born out of wedlock. A man living in Murwood End whom Galfrid would attempt to convince one last time to come south, to take his place as the king’s heir.

At first Aedre’s husband had been mortified, she admitted, that Aedre had told me of the king’s secret. So few knew of it, and yet Aedre shared the knowledge with his king’s enemy. Aedre reminded her husband that Kipp Aldwine was her dearest childhood friend, and if anyone had the right to reveal his secret, ’twas her.

Besides, she had argued, I was not the enemy he believed me to be. Aedre told him of our discussion of peace, of my sister’s desire to end the feuding. So it had been decided that I would accompany the king’s men, including Aiken, north. It was where Aedre sensed I belonged.

So nay, this was not goodbye. But I’d begged Aedre to allow Aiken to keep his secrets from me. If he wanted to tell me he was not an Elderman, then he would do so. In his time.

It seemed, in theory, a good plan. But now, standing before him, I do not know how long this deception between us can last.

“I will continue to serve my master,” he says, and I realize he does not mean Silvester. Thus, Aiken does not lie. On this matter, at least.

So many partial truths between us.

“I will miss you, Aiken,” I say softly. Not tomorrow, but after the journey north is ended.

For a moment, I think he means to kiss me. This time, I would return it. Welcome it. Feel no guilt for it.

Instead, he reaches his hand to pull a strand of hair into his fingers.

“I woke one morn,” he says, “with my hand entangled in your hair. I must have reached out in the night without realizing it.”