Why would we owe him anything?

“Because we have the possibility of knowing the truth behind the blue-horns’ disappearance. Of figuring out the real reason they no longer exist.” Croi swallows, her throat dry, her hands cold.

Why would that be our responsibility?

“If not us, then who?”

Whoever. Our time is limited as it is. What do you think we could find out before we die?

“Shouldn’t we at least try?”

Why should we bother?

“Why shouldn’t we?”

“Follow me.” For all that she has been in a tizzy, Croi has been walking behind the soldiers all the way back to the pavilion. She realizes that she’s standing dazed at the foot of the stairs leading to the fifth floor where Aodh’s wrath awaits.

She just saw the Tine King kissing his previous consort. Croi is not in the mood to converse with him.

“Why does he want to see me? Is it not enough that I’m back?” Surely the Tine King doesn’t think he can assert paternal authority over her.

You shouldn’t have accepted Enbarr.

“I should have known he would give no gifts unconditionally,” Croi mutters out loud.

“It is not up to me or you to know the thoughts of the king,” the Tine soldier with magick the color of dusk replies.

Croi snorts rudely but stomps all the way up the stairs, where she’s stopped by yet another soldier who excuses himself to inform the Tine King of her arrival. She is left to cool her heels for about five minutes before the soldier returns and gestures for her to enter.

The Tine King is leaning against the balcony railing right outside the central living room when Croi enters the royal quarters. Seeing her, he straightens up and walks inside. There are thunderclouds in his eyes, and she can tell he is simply waiting for the right moment to storm.

Does he expect us to quail in front of him?

“I’m not sure. Is that what the Fire Princess does?”

I’ve never seen him get angry with her.

“Did I not tell you to not take a step out of this pavilion?” Aodh asks, his fury announcing itself through the scowl on his face.

Croi raises both eyebrows. “I don’t know what gave you the idea that I take orders from you. Do you think that because you are the king of Tine, you can tell me what to do?”

Aodh bristles; his aura as king is mighty, and the Tine soldiers standing in front of the entrance fall to their knees, their magicks reacting to his power. Croi, however, is unaffected and blinks at him.

“Our relationship—”

“We have none,” she interrupts him.

“Can you not understand how dangerous it is for you here?” he demands.

Croi laughs at his words, genuinely amused. “Where were you when I was almost a meal to the Redcaps? Where were you when my body was being torn apart by the summoning spell?” All amusement fades from her face, leaving her eyes cold. “It is a bit too late for you to show concern for me. If your conscience is uncomfortable, just endure me for a little longer. I have a feeling in my bones that my end is just a few breaths away. Once I’m gone, you can go back to pretending I never existed.”