Bri opened her mouth to speak but Neelo beat her to it. “It’s just Bri this time,” they said. “And the others, but . . . Talhan isn’t here.”

“Oh.” Rish furrowed her brow but didn’t push any further. “Well, I better get back to the kitchens; dinner won’t cook itself.”

Bri watched the green witch wander back into the white stone building as the setting sun illuminated the tiles in shades of pink and gold. Bri grabbed another piece of bread, dipping it into the sauce. She hummed at the zesty lemon flavor. Rish was truly magical. Neelo stared out at the sunset, swirling their glass of wine.

“Have you heard from him?” Bri asked finally.

“He’s recovering,” Neelo replied. “He’s already in the East.”

This is what Bri loved about Neelo Emberspear. Neelo seemed the most quiet of the fae royalty but they also knew the most about the ongoings of Okrith.

“And how is the East?”

“Surprisingly well,” they said, taking a slow sip of wine. “Carys did a good job getting them in line.”

“Thank you,” Carys said, traipsing onto the terrace in a midnight-blue dress that belonged at a royal ball and not a library campsite. “What?”

“Was that in your pack?” Bri’s eyes scanned the gown. “Where did you even get that?”

“My morning runs to the markets weren’t just for fried bread.” She chuckled, sitting on the other side of Neelo and leaning in to give the Heir of Saxbridge a kiss on the cheek. “Hi.”

Neelo smirked at the dress. “You can take the girl out of Saxbridge . . .”

Carys and Neelo were lifelong friends. Carys grew up in the province just outside the Southern capital, and her parents had been some of the Queen’s favorite courtiers.

“The markets in Swifthill are magnificent, but nothing beats Saxbridge,” she said, giving Neelo a grin.

Neelo moved their book from the table into their lap. “That goes without saying.”

“Ugh,” Bri said with an exasperated sigh. “When you two get together it always turns into a Saxbridge love fest.”

“That is something very different where we come from,” Carys jeered.

Indeed, the capital was known for its debauchery. You couldn’t throw a stone without hitting a celebration. No matter the time of day, somewhere in Saxbridge the parties raged on. Neelo was the antithesis of that loud merriment, and yet, despite not partaking, they seemed to love their court. Bri wondered what it would be like when the heir became the sovereign. Their mother, Queen Emberspear, lived like the Goddess of Wine and Cheer. Neelo’s rule would be very different.

Footsteps sounded on the tiles. “What have I missed?” Bern approached the table holding two more bottles of wine. The three dogs followed him out, swarming around his feet.

Snatching a bottle from his grasp, Bri said, “These two chatting about the Southern Court.”