Dion shook his head. ‘I haven’t spoken with any of the eldren in a long time.’ He told her about the Blackwell Mines. ‘Now Eiric thinks I betrayed him. I sent a messenger to invite the eldren to the’—he realized he’d been about to say ‘to the wedding’ and quickly recovered—‘to invite them to Xanthos. But I don’t expect to see them.’

Chloe was surprised. ‘But you and Eiric were friends.’

‘No longer. The eldren are sequestered in their homeland, spurning contact with humans once again.’ He wiped a hand over his face. ‘I have so much to talk to you about.’

He reached out and took her hand, standing close. He was aware of her warm body next to him. He couldn’t help contrasting her with Isobel. Isobel was attractive, bold, and sensual. But Chloe was more than beautiful; she was brave and intelligent, dedicated and somehow . . . real. He knew her family and she knew his. He’d sailed with her and fought with her, slept by her side and faced armies with her. The eldran part of him had known he loved her, and needed to protect her, forcing him to change his shape, before he’d even known it himself.

But that was all in the past now. He was going to be a father, and Isobel would be his wife.

‘Chloe . . . When we saw each other last . . . I was confused. You and my brother were betrothed . . . I felt I had to choose between being eldran or human, and Nikolas made me think I’d never be welcome in Xanthos again. But then I met some people, and they helped me realize that it was possible to be accepted. Your father . . . He invited me back with him . . . Then Nikolas died . . . I became king . . .’ He hesitated. ‘I was devastated when they told me you were dead.’

‘What are you trying to tell me?’

‘I . . .’ he stammered. ‘I’m . . . I’m getting married.’

‘Married?’ She drew back, stunned. ‘Who is she?’

‘Isobel, daughter of Lord Philippos. She’s from Phalesia.’

‘Philippos . . . the consul?’ Chloe was struggling to hold back tears.

‘Yes.’

She yanked her hand free, turning away.

‘I’m sorry,’ Dion said. ‘I thought you were dead.’

‘Is she pretty?’

‘I suppose she is,’ he said slowly and then gave a slight smile. ‘But she’s nothing like you.’

She took a deep breath and then faced him again. Her eyes were red and her jaw tight; her posture was rigid.

‘May I ask you for a favor, King Dion?’

‘Chloe . . . please . . . You of all people are never allowed to call me that. Of course. Anything.’

‘I need to get to Phalesia.’

‘How soon?’

‘As quickly as possible.’

‘The tide turns in four hours. I’ll have a fast boat take you, and you’ll arrive with the dawn. You can sleep here until then.’