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“This distance is a suitable compromise,” I told her. “Close enough for easy conversation, but far enough that one can avoid conversation without appearing rude.”

“And how would you suggest one manage that?” She flashed me a smile.

“Feign deafness?”

Lady Lyra laughed. “Now you are thinking like a fae.”

I cringed at the observation. “Not the best of trends.”

She shook her head. “You are fae. There is nothing wrong with being tricky as long as you still maintain moral integrity. At least you aren’t planning on lying.”

My stomach tensed. The memory of telling a pack of lies as a child still burned, and to this day, considering being dishonest made me feel ill. Hours spent dry heaving over a chamber pot had established honesty as part of my nature.

I shook my head. “Do you wish for me to check with the cook about the menu?” I asked.

Before she could answer, the double door opened, and a servant announced the guests: Lord Moritz, Master Nerio, and his mother, Mistress Milana. Lord Moritz—a faun dressed in flashy, expensive high-fashion—strode into the room with an exaggerated flick of his decorative cane. One of the other visitors tingled with magic that felt like high fae. I wasn’t sure which, though I suspected Master Nerio since Mistress Milana’s hair had a subtle green tone beneath the brown hue. They followed Lord Moritz at a more sedate pace.

“Lady Lyra!” The faun performed an exaggerated bow to his hostess and appeared fully intent on charming her.

However, my attention was caught by the next group of arrivals. Kent’s mother followed behind the primary group, accompanied by her attendant. She was a solidly built sprite with a practical air about her, despite the shimmer to her hair.

Thankfully, Kent’s mother, glowed with health. Her shoulders still stooped slightly, but her warm smile gave me hope that Calla was finally improving after a week with the realm’s magical borders.

I circled the table in the opposite direction of the new guests as they approached Lady Lyra.

Reaching Calla, I offered her a small curtsey. “How has your morning been?” I asked.

Her smile widened as she caught my hands. As always, when I touched anyone skin to skin, their emotions overwhelmed me. Calla’s quiet joy rushed over our connection, making my heart light and hopeful.

“Did you know that the gardens have a pond?” she asked with innocent delight.

I shook my head. Since I’d begun working with Lady Lyra during the past few days, I had been trapped indoors. The bit of the gardens I had explored during my brief leisure had been beautiful, but I couldn’t recall any water features in the areas I’d encountered.

“It is beautiful and there are naiads who tend it.” Her lovely features glowed slightly. “Do you have any idea how long it has been since I could speak to someone of my same species? Other than Kent, of course. They promised to ask after my family. If any of them survived the purge…” Her voice trailed off as she fought a sudden welling of emotion and tears.

Impulsively, I pulled her close for a gentle hug, reinforcing her joy with an echo of my own. “I am so happy for you,” I whispered.

“If just one of my family—” Her voice broke as she drew out of my embrace to swipe at the moisture on her cheeks. “It would mean so much.”

I nodded my understanding. The familiar desire to see my parents just once built into a pressure at the back of my throat. I swallowed against it and directed my attention back to Calla.

“I earnestly hope they find someone,” I told her. “What else have you done to occupy your time?”

“I have begun a new lace project. Thessa found supplies for me. We sit in the southern lounge each afternoon and work on our stitching. She embroiders the most beautiful things—oh!” Calla’s eyes widened in surprise. “I forgot to introduce you. Thessa—” She turned to the sprite next to her.

“There is no need,” Thessa told her. “I am merely your companion.”

“Nonsense.” Calla waved away her objections. “You are my companion and friend. Thessa, this is Rue, my son’s close friend. Rue, this is Thessa.”

We exchanged smiles and nods, but before we could continue our conversation, a small ruckus drew all attention to the corridor.

“Beloved of my heart,” Lord Greyson called out as he strode through the doors, despite the mild protests of the servant tasked with announcing arrivals. Greyson crossed the room to his wife’s side, neatly extracting her from the circle of new arrivals. Bowing over her hand, he kissed her fingers while gazing into her eyes.

Then he wound her arm around his and covered her fingers with his hand. “Have our guests introduced themselves?”

“Yes,” Lady Lyra said.

“I am not surprised. They appear to be veterans at being guests.” Lord Greyson narrowed his gaze specifically at the faun. “Experts at a well-turned phrase.”