“And you just be safe,” he ordered. “With this instability, you will naturally be under suspicion. I do not need to tell you that they do not need to know their suspicions are accurate.”

Fern tipped her head to the side in acknowledgement before she blinked out of sight.

Cassius turned on his boot and started walking back to where they had camped.

His men fell in step at his sides.

The tents were down. Belongings packed. The horses loaded. And hundreds of soldiers had readied their mounts, prepared to move out.

Once the women returned, it would be time for all of them to go their separate ways.

However, now that the talk was accomplished with Fern, he needed a word with Mars and True before he and Elena started on their journey to The Enchantments.

“I don’t like it,” Tone muttered.

“Which part of the many things not to like that are happening are you referring to?” Cassius asked.

“You, riding solely with Mac and Ian to The Enchantments,” Tone replied.

“Mac and Ian, Elena, Hera, Jasmine, and Elena tells me Hera’s lover, Rosehana will also be with us,” Cassius corrected him.

“Only five guards for a future king and queen?” Tone inquired.

“We will be all right,” Cassius murmured.

“We’re spread too thin,” Antonius returned. “Nero and Otho in Airen. Me and Rus staying with your father. You heading with minimal guard to The Enchantments.”

“Elena needs a respite from all our company, and it must be said, I need some time without so many bloody distractions to get to know the woman who will be my wife,” Cassius replied.

“Would that the forest soon rings with much heftier groans than a Sky Citadel maid can give you as that happens,” Mac entered the conversation.

“You might wish to watch what you say,” Cass warned.

Mac sent him a grin. “I never wish to watch what I say.”

This was regrettably true.

Cassius sighed.

“This is the most drawn-out coup in Triton history,” Tone complained. “And with the comprehensiveness of our allies, it has but one conclusion. The only thing that remains to be seen is how many lives will be lost in reaching that conclusion. That is, if the man who would assume the throne doesn’t get set upon by Zees, kidnapped by angry gnomes or assassinated by Airenzian traditionalists who scent change and are loathe to lose power.”

“Angry gnomes,” Mac chuckled.

“They are not all friendly,” Antonius returned.

“They are two feet tall,” Mac retorted.

“And have magic,” Tone shot back.

“Were you asleep when our future queen set the night sky ablaze with but five arrows?” Mac asked. “I’ll wager now, a bag of gold, Elena can best a hundred gnomes by just sneezing on them.”

Bloody hell.