His father broke away from where he’d stood with a woman with deep brown skin, and a man with long, reddish-brown hair.

“We are still waiting on a few to return from their rooms, but they should be here shortly,” Valyn said, clasping his hand on Casteel’s shoulder. His voice lowered. “You will be expected to choose an advisor. Both of you. It doesn’t have to happen today, but you should choose one soon.”

“I already know who I will choose.” Casteel looked at me, and I could only think of one person. I glanced to where Kieran now stood just inside the door, his head tilted as Delano spoke quietly to him. I nodded in agreement. “I will want to speak with him first.”

Valyn’s gaze flicked to Kieran. “He is a good choice.” He squeezed Casteel’s shoulder, and I was relieved to see the gesture. “For both of you.” There was a pause as he looked at his son, clearing his throat.

Opening myself up, I could…taste what reminded me of vanilla—sincerity—but there was also a warm, cinnamon flavor. Pride. Emotions seeped through the cracks in the walls his father had built around himself, and even without my gift, I could sense that he probably wished to speak with his son alone. The gods only knew how long Valyn had waited for this moment, having gone from expecting one son to assume the role and then hoping the other would eventually take the throne.

My gaze skittered over to where Naill and Emil had roamed into the chamber. “I’ll be right back,” I said, and Casteel’s gaze shot to me. I smiled at him and then his father. “Excuse me.”

Vonetta prowled alongside me as I walked into the chamber, aware of the eyes that followed. I let my senses open wide, and once again, I tasted the springy freshness of curiosity and the undertone of concern, thick like buttermilk. As I continued on, my chin lifted, my gaze moving from Naill and Emil to the round windows spaced between similar-shaped mirrors throughout the chamber. I could see just the steel gray and ivory of buildings. Eager to see more of Evaemon, I almost didn’t catch my reflection in the mirror just inside the room.

But I did.

My steps faltered. My eyes appeared brighter than normal, the silvery sheen behind my pupils more noticeable. There was a faint pink blush to my cheeks. I didn’t really notice the scars. The crown of twisted bone that sat upon my head drew my attention.

And the fact that my hair was a bit of a mess. It was braided, but the ride here and the skirmish with the Unseen had caused many strands to sneak free.

Realizing that I was still in clothing dusty from the road and probably stained with blood during my crowning and my first Council meeting, I swallowed a sigh and glanced out into the reception hall. My head tilted as I scanned the Elders. It wasn’t until then that I realized they were dressed similarly to Casteel and me. They were all dressed in either black or gray tunics and pants trimmed in gold—even the women. There were no fancy, gauzy gowns made of rich, supple material. The clothing was pragmatic. I suspected that all of them were fighters in one way or another.