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I sense her heart rate spiking with her mistake, but she recovers quickly. “Aminadav, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Though I do not rely on it often.”

Romeria’s pulse radiates with a wave of relief, her blind guess a lucky one.

But Kienen’s gaze on her remains curious, and I can’t be sure it’s worked.

I hate that she must play this role again, but if the Ybarisan knew the person inside this body was not the heir to the throne, would she still have his loyalty?

“True warriors do not rely on it at all,” Jarek pipes up, either because he’s read the situation as well, or simply to throw a shot across the bow at Kienen.

I smile. “You know, Jarek, it would not hurt you to learn how to use yours. It’s another viable weapon to wield in your role to protect Ulysede’s queen.”

“Aye, I will be sure to take your advice, Your Highness, as soon as my corpse is rotting in the ground.”

A deafening screech in the distance pulls everyone’s attention to the north.

“Maybe those bonfires aren’t the best idea,” Elisaf says. “They’re like beacons in the night.”

“You won’t be saying that when another hag springs out from the shadows,” I retort, though there are far worse things than that creature. It, at least, is easy enough to kill with fire.

“The number of Nulling beasts crawling out of their nests is increasing each day,” Kienen notes mildly. “Has anyone else observed this?”

“There have been more than expected as of late.” I steal a glance Romeria’s way, to see her jaw tensing, her wary attention on the dusky sky as if something might swoop down at any moment. “Let’s hope this one keeps its distance. Hold the line here.” We’ve passed the last bonfire, and my connection to the flame is weakening.

We stop and watch as the forms ahead take a clearer shape. I can make out Telor’s silver-white hair at the center. The other riders wear their helms, obscuring their faces, though I imagine his son, Braylon, is among them. He has always been brash and would not miss his chance to see me ahead of a battle.

Telor raises a single hand and they stop their approach. He guides his horse forward.

As I expected, he wants a private parley. “Remain here. I will meet with him alone first—”

“I do not think that’s wise,” Jarek interrupts. “Lord Telor is following Atticus’s order, and if what the Ybarisan says is true, there are compromised soldiers within his ranks.”

“I will meet with Telor first alone,” I repeat with bite in my voice. Abarrane may be surly, but at least she doesn’t question me in front of others. “I trust Telor as I do Rengard. He is noble. He follows the rules of engagement and will not attempt anything untoward during parley, regardless of what he thinks of me. We are like-minded in what we stand for.” And I have things hidden deep within my chest of knowledge that I can use to remind him of that. “The issues with his ranks, we will deal with later. Remain here.”

“Have you decided how much you’re going to tell him yet?” Romeria asks, worry furrowing her brow.

“No, but I figured I’d follow your lead for once and wait for the answer to come to me.”

“Good luck with that.” She reaches out to squeeze my forearm.

With a deep breath, I guide my horse forward, across the craggy ground. Fighting a battle on such uneven terrain will be unpleasant, but hopefully we will not have to fight one at all.

“You are full of surprises as of late, Zander Ascelin, First of His Name,” Telor calls out, he and his white stallion cloaked in matching navy blue coats. They stall, forcing me to move in farther, putting me farther from reach of my flame.

“It has been forever since I heard that address.”

“It has been forever since I uttered it. Frankly, I do not know how to address a banished king.”

“How about an old friend?” Telor was Lyndel’s lord long before Hudem’s moon ever granted me life.

“That is the only reason I am standing alone before you now. My son fought me in coming here at night and alone to parley. He said I couldn’t trust you.”

“My advisors were equally uncomfortable with the idea.”

He smiles sadly. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

Silence lingers, and he seems to be struggling with how to proceed.

“Tell me, Ailis, how does dear Erwynn fair these days?”

Telor swallows, the reminder of his one glaring indiscretion now placed clearly between us. He’d been unlucky in love for centuries and had all but given up when he fell for a mortal from Kier and, unwilling to lose her, infected her. It’s a secret I’ve kept for him, rather than bring him forward to my father and ensure he was punished. For a man so intent on following the rule of law, I’m sure that’s never far from the forefront of his thoughts. “She is well.”

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