Much the same as when I’d stepped into town with Emi, hawkers shouted prices, hoping for a royal sale. Margun had orders of custom gowns with lace, silk, and satin ribbons to fund her shop until the next frost.

Kael kept a distance, allowing me to drift along with courtiers who followed Yrsa.

The princess and Emi kept the lead, but soon enough most of the crowd bled into shops of their own interest, and I was shoved back into the hordes. As the melder, I would be expected to commission a fine gown for Thane’s vow ceremony, but I found little interest in the bustle today.

In truth, all I wanted to do was find my Draven guard.

Gods, I needed to tread with caution. Both Roark and I knew Damir would never sanction any sort of affection between us. If Roark were to have a lover, I had few doubts the king would use it strategically. A high-ranking Stav with Draven blood would go to a noble Jorvan woman, a slight to Dravenmoor or a branch of peace.

I knew little of Roark’s folk in his homeland, but perhaps he would be a bridge between kingdoms. My heart dropped. If Damir found the Wanderer’s bones, none of us would have any choice or power to speak against him.

There was true, dangerous trouble facing the kingdoms, but I was a wretch. My thoughts would not stop wandering to the Sentry.

We’d kissed, we’d touched, but none of it meant Roark would want me for his match. No mistake, the king would never allow it anyway.

My fingers trailed over a wooden table laden in bands made from bone and glittering threads, necklaces of blue pearls and gold, and broaches of all kinds. I selected a curious ring of silver and bronze. Two serpents entangled, jaws spread, like they were readying to devour the other.

“Pretty thing, isn’t it.” The woman behind the stand grinned, polishing a cloak pin with a thick linen cloth. She nodded at the ring. “The symbol comes from the poem of the nymph and her night and day lovers.”

I slid the ring on my center finger and glanced at the woman. “I don’t know that tale.”

“Ah. ’Tis a tale of a beautiful nymph from the gods’ wood. First, she gave her heart to a man who was bold, kind, and good. But one night on her journey home, she came across another man. He was not like the first. He was strong, cunning, and wicked.”

The woman winked and placed the polished pin on the tabletop and leaned onto her palms. “The nymph’s heart was drawn to both. Uncertain what to do, she prayed to the goddess of love. Touched by her plea, the goddess combined the two men as one. And that, they say, is what it means to love a heart—the lightest pieces, and the darkest.”