As soon as daylight broke, I reluctantly peeled myself from my mate’s side, gently moving his head from my arm to the pillow. His nose scrunched in protest, but almost immediately, the creases smoothed out, and his soft snores returned. I smiled down at his sleeping form, so small within his bundle of blankets, and leaned in to kiss him on the forehead before getting dressed and slipping out of the room.

Cee was watching over the hallway from her position against the adjacent wall, her eyes alert though she appeared relatively at ease. I guided the door closed behind me, and signaled her over. She was at my side in an instant.

“Your Highness.”

“I would be grateful if you both trailed closer for the remainder of our journey,” I said, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb Luca’s sleep. “I understand that your duties are typically confined to the shadows, but I do not wish to cause my mate any more distress, and I believe he would feel safer having you both at a more visible distance.”

Cee nodded in understanding, the barest hint of sympathy cracking through her blunt manner at my request. “It will be done, Your Highness.”

I dipped my head in appreciation before scanning the hall, frowning at the absence of one particularly spirited basilisk.

“Where is your companion?” I asked. She seemed to mentally groan at the mere mention of him, which humored me. It was how I imagined Teighan had reacted to my letters regarding Alex’s welfare all those months ago.

“I sensed you waking, so I sent him to fetch Your Highnesses breakfast,” she said, her tone devoid of emotion. “He should return⁠—”

“Sorry, sorry.” The creature in question rushed through the hallway with steps not entirely befitting a spy. He carried a tray laden with bowls of food, wooden tankards, and a jug filled with water—I knew because it sloshed over the sides with how vigorously he swayed. I was surprised there was any left by the time he reached us at the door. “They were serving slop, which was labeled on the menu as some type of porridge, but I don’t know, I thought it best to give it a wide berth. So you have sweet milk pudding and stewed fruit instead. It’s good. Not too sweet, despite the name. I tried some downstairs.”

He handed over the tray, the implication of his words slowly dawning. “Not from your bowl, obviously!” he clarified. “The kitchen miss gave me a spoonful cos I told her she was pretty, even though she kinda looked like a toad, but I wanted to be nice since she was in charge of cooking your food, and in all honesty, she had one of those long, darty-out tongues, so I wouldn’t have really minded if she⁠—”