Vidal refilled her cup from their waterskin. Then he contemplated his own mug for a long moment. “I don’t know if that alone would have done much. People have their prejudices. It will take a long time to change those, whether or not you’re queen.”

She rolled her eyes and drained her mug. “Somehow that doesn’t lift my spirits.”

“But.” He nudged her with an elbow. “Queen or not, you can still work toward that. You don’t need a throne to change people’s minds.”

She looked at him. Found herself distracted all over again by those dark hazel eyes of his. They flashed with the lightning overhead.

“You didn’t need a throne to change my mind, after all,” he murmured.

“You’re different.”

He laughed, soft and breathy. “I’m nobody. Just an anonymous minion, remember?”

Oh, she remembered. Anonymous minion. That was what she had called him the first time they spoke. After she awoke in a carriage bound for Kolonya City, her whole life turned upside down by one phantasm dart. She glanced at his lips, at the ghost of a smile that danced there. Felt the corners of her own mouth lift in response. “No, you aren’t.”

He bent closer.

A sharp crack from the fire startled her, and she whipped around, hurriedly grabbed the poker. Rain had begun to fall around them, soft but gaining force. They wouldn’t have long to finish roasting this hare. She prodded a large chunk of wood, and flames burst forth.

When she dared a peek at him again, Vidal turned the hare on its spit, carefully avoiding her gaze. “Tell me more about your band,” he said after a silence that was too long, too electric.

Think about Elex, she reminded herself. Elex, who she’d see again soon. Elex, who Ren had promised to pardon.

Elex, who she’d barely thought of since the night she bid him farewell. Elex, who she cared about but who only knew the old Zofi. The Traveler she used to be. Not the hybrid she was now. Half-Traveler, half-Kolonyan.

She swallowed hard. “What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to share. Your history, maybe? Your legends? I only know Kolonyan ones. I’m sure you must have your own.”

“Plenty.” She grinned and stirred the fire again. “Who do you want to hear about? Kolonyans normally love the stories about Traveler Queen Claera, King Ilian’s wife.”

To her surprise, he shook his head. “I’ve heard those. I want the ones I wouldn’t have learned growing up. Who came before Claera? What other queens were there?”