“Also, I found a piece of correspondence with the Evewynian seal. It wasn’t signed, but it must have been from Queen Meilyr. All it said was: ‘Arrangements have been made. Please ensure accommodations for the additional staff.’”

I frown, watching water sluice over my knuckles. “It sounds like preparations for the gathering in the north.”

Ronin had said that leaders from all over Thiy are journeying to his northern holding. If every leader brings their own soldiers, drakes, and staff, then it makes sense Ronin would supplement his own staff to ensure everything runs smoothly.

After a time, I rise from the water and pull the drain. As I dry off and change into a clean set of clothes, I tell Saengo everything that happened in Vos Gillis.

“Can’t Ronin do anything to help them?” Saengo asks as I emerge from the bathing chamber. She gestures me over to the chair and picks up the brush.

“Ronin can’t interfere with how the queen runs her own kingdom, no matter how unjust her laws are.”

Saengo’s lips purse. Her hands work gently but efficiently, smoothing out the tangles in my hair. “Millie came back last night. I put her in the aviary so she wouldn’t fly off. I’ve decided on what to tell my father. I plan to send the letter this evening, but I’ll amend it to ask if he knows anything about what the queen might be planning.”

Aside from providing the kingdom’s best falcons, Saengo’s father also oversees much of the northern orchards. A considerable portion of the Royal Army resides on his lands as well. If he’s willing to share whatever information he might have with his heir, it can only help.

But in truth, I’m not convinced her parents won’t use the queen’s claims for their own benefit. They’ve never approved of Saengo’s friendship with me, and they’d welcome the chance to rid me from their daughter’s life for good.

But I don’t tell Saengo this.

“Will your father be upset with you for not writing sooner?” I ask.

Saengo weaves my hair into a thick braid. At the Company, we’d been accustomed to braiding each other’s hair every morning. Her hands linger in my hair where she would have secured the feathers if we’d still been wyverns.

With a sigh, she says, “Maybe. But he’ll be glad to hear from me as well.” Her mouth twists in amusement. “I’ll include reassurance that you haven’t coerced me into being your accomplice.”

“Or have I?” I ask, turning to waggle my brows at her.

“If only he knew you’d been Kendara’s pupil,” she says, before suddenly growing somber. She reaches up to tug at the short ends of her hair. “I’m sorry you didn’t find Kendara in Vos Gillis.”