“This journey is going to kill me, Rose and Hera at each other nightly, now Mac and Jazz in on the act. I hope there are some Nadirii who do not hate men in the trees we seek, or I’ll need to stop in a market along the way to buy some balm.”

Cassius chuckled.

Ian stared at him again, not angrily, or frustratedly.

With surprise.

“To your tent, brother,” Cassius said, having risked too long waking Elena with this conversation, he was not going to get into why his mood had been dark for days, and now he was chuckling.

He moved toward Elena’s tent.

“Cass,” Ian called, and Cassius turned back. “You are well?”

He had good friends.

“Better,” he murmured.

Ian nodded, his face in the firelight showing relief.

Yes.

He had good friends.

Ian moved to the fire to bank it and Cassius resumed walking to Elena’s tent.

For their journey to The Enchantments, their tents were much smaller, thus much lighter. They were meant for single occupancy, though two could sleep in one, but without much room to spare.

With one of those two being an Airenzian soldier, there would be no room to spare.

This, Cassius thought, would not be an issue.

He bent low, also crouching, in order to scoot in.

He set Elena on her blankets and removed her moccasins, found the ties over her casings and loosened them, pulling the casings away.

Exposing the lengths of smooth flesh on her legs, Cass swiftly looked away, stowed his sword and dagger close at hand, took off his boots, unbuttoned and shirked his shirt. He was then even more careful in taking off her belt and removing it with her dagger.

That done, he arranged the two of them fitted closely together under the fold of the blanket, both their heads on her rolled-up saddle rug.

Sadly, he awoke his princess doing this last.

However, all she did was press closer and whisper sleepily but with unhidden relief, “You’re back.”

And she again fell fast asleep.

He held her in his arms tight to his frame and breathed her in.

She rode like she was born in the saddle. She bantered with her friends with affection, humor and respect. She had a small tent with but a blanket on the ground, and did not go to it, or rise from it, with even a single complaint. Indeed, she erected it herself without request for assistance.

She could build a fire. She could cook over it.

Her use of her staff was strong, sure and swift.

Her magic was awe-inspiring.

And she learned Zee dancing in no time, which foretold her learning how to do other things with her body, and his, with great ease.

A female moan muted by distance drifted to the tent, but it was drowned out by a loud, long male groan.

And Cassius found himself smiling into Elena’s hair.

Silvanus was right.