Warmth crept into Cane’s fair cheeks as the king looked him over. Ideas flooded Cane’s mind—ones of excusing himself, ones of escape. Porethius could not start a war with the Crimson King by trying to save him if the king got too curious.

But the Crimson King rounded his white-bearskin chair, and he sat. The rest of the guests followed suit. “Have you come up with a better offer to see my drum?” he asked Porethius.

“I have. I shall grant you tactical advice for your wars, since that appears to be what is most important to you,” Porethius stated while everyone reached for tea and drink.

The Crimson King did not blink.

“I see no value in advice. I have enough advisors. I would be swayed by a deal, if such a deal involved you fighting alongside me at the border. I would also require you to slay the Green heir once I beat the Queen of the Pines in the Silver Jubilee Renewal in a few days’ time.” The king leaned back in his chair, a shadow spreading o’er his brow.

Cane shifted in his seat. The movement tore the king’s eyes from the fairy and back to Cane.

“My assignment is elsewhere,” Porethius said. Again.

“Remove your mask, boy.” The king’s command startled Cane from his thoughts. “I’ll not have you keeping secrets at my table. Take it off or my Legionnaires will do it for you.”

Ruby Legionnaires shifted from their posts ‘round the room and Cane’s stomach dropped. He sprang to his feet, raising a hand. “Of course!” he agreed. “I have nothing to hide. I wouldn’t want you to think as much.” He swallowed, certain his hands were unsteady as he reached for his black mask, mind racing.

Porethius’s eyes grew round. “If you do not trust us, King, we have no reason to stay.” She lifted from her seat.

Suddenly, Cane bellowed a laugh. The Ruby Legionnaires slowed their step, the king’s dark brows lifted, and Scarlet Strange’s eyes locked onto him, finally.

“My apologies, King. I did not mean to offend. I simply cannot get the mask off without the key I’ve left in my chambers. I’ll go fetch it immediately and remove the mask for you—no need to grow unmerry.”

Porethius’s tanned flesh was tight, tattoos glowing. Nevertheless, she lowered herself back to her seat.

Cane nodded to the king, to his once-brothers, and left the table. He could hear the Ruby Legionnaires creeping behind him as he exited the dining room.

“Perhaps I will think about your offer…” Cane heard Porethius’s voice fade into the distance.

When Cane rounded a corner, he swept into a servants’ tunnel, latching the metal slat door a mere moment before the Legionnaires whisked into the hall. The brutes spun, then split into different hallways, and Cane released the breath he had been holding.