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“M-my lady,” Shep said with a nervous laugh, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. He looked pleadingly at Cedric, whose hand Elyria had still not released, but her knight only smiled.

“It’s so good to see you, Shep,” Elyria said earnestly before releasing him.

His cheeks had turned a darker shade of green at her sudden and, granted, somewhat uncharacteristic show of affection, but his voice was bright when he said, “And you, my lady. Truly. It cannot be overstated how good it is to see you well.”

“I thought we had moved past ‘my lady’ long ago. Please, it’s just⁠—”

“Elyria. Of course.” His vine-tattooed cheeks dimpled with his smile, and something in her chest wobbled.

Cedric squeezed her hand, and she knew he felt it too.

“Some applecake while we wait for the others?” Shep offered, gesturing to the table.

The growl that came from Elyria’s stomach could not have been more perfectly timed.

“That’s a yes,” said Cedric, swinging a leg over the bench and taking a seat before pulling Elyria directly onto his lap.

Shep darted back inside the hut to grab some plates and cups, then returned to serve them both. Cedric tore a piece of applecake from his own plate and offered it to Elyria, who accepted it with a grin. She couldn’t help but chuckle when Shep averted his eyes as Cedric fed her.

Elyria had never been one to lean into open displays of affection, really. Not that she minded seeing it from others—within reason, of course. But it had never held much appeal for her, to be so public about it.

There was so much time, after all, for that sort of thing. Later. In private. Where she didn’t have to worry about interruption or judgment, when she could stay focused on her partner and not have to think of other things. It was easier, keeping it separate like that.

But that was before.

And now the thought of not touching Cedric seemed actively ludicrous. Elyria wanted to burst out laughing at the very notion, and if she did, she was sure she’d laugh so hard she’d end up crying.

She did have the fleeting thought that this wasn’t an altogether reasonable reaction. That, perhaps, the way she was feeling wasn’t entirely normal. Just as it didn’t seem normal that her bondmark consistently pulsed now, nor that the tether in her chest felt like it was constantly twanging—being plucked like it was strung on a lute.

It made Elyria feel restless, antsy. And the only thing that calmed that feeling, that settled her when she felt like she was likely to jump out of her own skin, was being with him.

But surely this was all temporary. Her psyche probably just needed a little extra reassurance after the events of the past few months, and her knight was nothing if not reassuring.

Besides, it wasn’t as though Cedric seemed to mind. If the strength with which his fingertips dug into her side was any indication, with the way their other hands were still linked, she didn’t even need their bond to know he felt the same.

Something to discuss later, perhaps.

It took Elyria a moment to realize that Cedric and Shep had been chatting the entire time she was lost in thought.

“—but if there have been any instances like what you speak of, I haven’t noticed.” Shep shrugged. “The glade has been quiet since you left for Nyrundelle. Peaceful. I really do love it here.”

“Is that your way of saying you plan on staying?”

Elyria spun in Cedric’s lap, following the sound of the familiar voice, her heart hammering in her chest. Jocelyn was walking toward them from the edge of the clearing, her ash-brown hair disheveled, pieces falling out of her braided coronet. The traveling cloak she wore was covered with bits of leaves, as if she’d just torn through a bush—or several—to get here.

Jocelyn’s bootsteps faltered as her gaze fell on Elyria, something deeper than relief beaming from those hazel eyes. Something more akin to understanding. Knowing. And it had Elyria’s throat suddenly feeling tight.

The fae was, perhaps, the only one who could remotely understand what Elyria had gone through—what she was still going through. And though Elyria hated the fact that Jocelyn, too, had experienced the soul-breaking agony of losing her wings, hated that she lived with the loss that followed, Elyria couldn’t help but feel bolstered by her presence. Couldn’t help but feel a little less alone in this.

It was, after all, what they were gathering to discuss.

“You’re here!” Shep said excitedly when Jocelyn reached the table. “The council will be so pleased to know you’re back. They took quite a shine to you last time you were here.”

Jocelyn clapped the sylvan on the shoulder, then slid onto the bench beside him. “Did they, now? Enough of one to be willing to release you from the pleasure of their company, do you think?”

Shep huffed a laugh. “Fear not. They are well aware of my intention to return to . . .” He looked at Cedric and Elyria with a crease between his forest-green brows. “Well, to wherever it is we end up returning to.”

“I suppose we’ll have to sort that out here soon. But first things first,” said Cedric, squeezing Elyria’s hip. “As soon as Elder Larkess arrives, she’ll be able to explain your options far better than I could, Elle.”