“A real brownie,” she says breathlessly.

“Are there any other kinds?” Ceara rolls her eyes.

If only she knew.

Croi smirks.

“Let’s go!” The princess clutches the beastie’s reins and, with a smile so brittle that glass would covet it, leads the way into the camp.

Tinder has concealed herself in Croi’s hair, seemingly preferring it to the princess’s cleaner cloak. According to the princess, the camp contains fifty Tine soldiers, ten horse goblins, seven cooks, seventeen Tine courtiers, one monarch, and countless imps. Imps, Tinder informs Croi, are pixie-sized fire-breathers who attach themselves to Tine fae. She doesn’t like them at all.

They enter the camp through the area set aside for the horses. Croi sees her first horse goblin here. They are short kin, with sharp faces, gentle eyes, and an affinity for horses that make them the perfect stable hands. The horses are kept in an enclosure fenced by red-orange threads of Tine magick. At the rear of the enclosure, they meet a horse goblin the princess calls Min to whom she hands the beastie’s reins. Freed of the beastie’s conspicuous presence, the princess starts walking with furiously quick steps.

The first glimpse of the camp surprises Croi. She had expected something similar to the Redcap camp, but what she sees here is more of a tent city than a camp. Colorful tents have been erected in a circle with the largest, and grandest, smack-dab in the center. An organized chaos choreographs the movement of the Tine kin as they all perform whatever duties have been assigned to them. Round creatures Croi doesn’t recognize tend cooking fires. The air is fragrant with the smell of food; Croi’s stomach rumbles rudely.

The Tine soldiers have on dark uniforms similar to the ones worn by the rebel soldiers. According to Aislin, the Tine fae sitting in small groups, dressed in billowy shirts and pants, are soldiers who aren’t on duty. They are talking in hushed voices. The royal guards contain both male and female kin, mostly fae, three quarters of whom seem to be on duty. The atmosphere in the camp is restless and watchful; even those soldiers not dressed for duty seem tense and ready for danger.

The princess tries to hide herself among her handmaids, but that is difficult to do as she is the only one with red hair. Croi wonders if she should have introduced the princess to mud. A little page kin with light orange skin and curly black hair notices Ceara first, and his exclamation garners the attention of the older soldiers.

The princess gives a resigned sigh, puts her head up, and walks as though she expects everyone to get out of her way. The soldiers bow in her presence; some even sink to their knees. But behind the deference, Croi hears a wave of whispers; all of them are mutters of surprise at her appearance. Hmm. It seems that the princess’s trip away from the camp isn’t common knowledge. However did she conceal her absence in the first place?