The sound of the bedroom door opening pulled her gaze away. Delta walked out, yanking down the hem of her tunic, a flash of her smooth brown skin and muscled torso disappearing beneath the gray fabric.

Delta smirked at them, opening her mouth as she began, “Oh, hey—”

In a flash Carys was there, punching her hard enough in the jaw that Delta tumbled backward into the wall.

“What is wrong with you?” Carys shouted as Bri rushed over.

Grabbing her friend around her middle, she hauled Carys away from Delta. “She’s already injured—”

“Good.” Carys scrambled against Bri’s hold.

“It’s okay, Carys.” Bri squeezed her tighter around the middle until she stopped flailing.

“It’s not okay,” Carys growled at Delta, though she stayed put beside Bri. “You are a cheating, lying piece of shit, and you had to go and drag Bri into your lies too.”

“I take it you met my wife,” Delta said, rubbing her jaw.

“Yes, your wife that none of us knew about!” Carys yelled.

Bri shifted slightly in front of her friend, readying to grab her again.

“I should have told you.” Delta pushed off from the wall with a grimace. “It just got harder and harder with each year and . . . I don’t know, when I’m not in Swifthill, I like being a different person—”

“A dishonest person?” Carys spat. “A liar?”

Delta turned her bronze eyes to Bri. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, tousling her coils of short hair. “This thing between us . . . I didn’t want to give it up.”

Bri clenched the hilt of her dagger but didn’t unsheathe it. “Whatever, Del, it was only a bit of fun anyway,” she snarled. “Why did you even call me here?”

“They killed my aunt.” Fear seeped into Delta’s gaze. “They almost killed Lina too. Gods, they were so close. They will try again; I know it.”

“Do you have any leads?” Bri folded her arms, watching the way Delta hobbled to the chair and carefully lowered herself down with one arm. Her other arm was tucked inside of her tunic, a sling peeking from the collar. So it wasn’t just her arm that was injured, judging by the way she limped. Delta was a fierce warrior. Her injuries must have been devastating if her fae healing hadn’t fixed her.

Delta shook her head. “They poisoned the Queen, and when the healers rushed to her aid, they appeared.”

“Who?”

She took a deep, wheezing breath. “The witch hunters . . . or at least we think. They wore carved wooden masks that looked, I don’t know, like a lion?” Delta rubbed her shoulder as if working out a knot.

“If they wore masks, then they were probably people you know,” Bri said. “Do you have a list of suspects?”

“Of course.” Delta nodded. “I’ll write a copy out for you.”

“Lions would make sense,” Carys muttered. “The patron animal of the East. Augustus Norwood is the lion cub vying for his father’s throne.”