“And I think we should suck it up and let them attend the new King and Queen’s ball.” Aneryn gave Rua a pointed glance as if reminding her that she was a Queen now. “It is the gracious and diplomatic thing to do.”

“You’d make a better Queen than me, Aneryn,” Rua muttered, and the blue witch gave a cheeky grin.

Bri let out a long sigh and looked pleadingly at Lina. “What would you do?”

“It’s not my decision to make.” Lina grinned at Bri’s scowl. “But”—Bri’s shoulders sagged in relief that the Princess had more to say—“if it were me, I’d let them come, only so that I wouldn’t have to hear them whine about it for the rest of my life or use it against me later. Gracious, yes, but selfish too. Let the suffering only last for three days instead of an eternity.”

Bri knew before Lina even spoke that she’d have considered every outcome and chosen the best one.

“They can come . . .” Bri gave a definitive nod of her head. “And I’ll try to avoid them as much as possible.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her muscles already bunching at the thought of having to speak to her mother. “Someone should warn Tal too.”

“Not me,” Rua said at the same time Aneryn said, “Nope.”

Bri pinched the bridge of her nose. “You two are insufferable.”

“Talhan is in Renwick’s study.” Rua grinned. “They’re bleeding the High Mountain King of his coins.”

Lina guffawed. “Who let Hale near a card table?”

“They’re waiting to hear back from Renwick’s scouts,” Aneryn said with a shrug.

Lina perked up at that, taking a step closer. “Have they heard anything yet?”

“Just one message. They found Renwick’s stolen horse abandoned halfway to Vurstyn.” Aneryn’s eyes flashed blue as if she were Seeing Renwick’s guards in real time. “Looks like he swapped the horse for another, but they’re still following his trail southward.”

“He better not make it across the border,” Bri snarled. “That traitorous piece of shit.” She looked at Aneryn. “Can you See anything else?”

“He has some sort of protection magic.” Aneryn shook her head and her eyes faded back to dark brown. “It’s similar to the violet witches’ purple smoke—”

“Of course it is,” Bri growled. “He’s part violet witch. Gods, why hadn’t we considered that?”

“Why would he tell you that, then?” Rua cocked her head, voicing Bri’s own concern. “He may be a spy or a traitor, but I don’t understand why he’d share that with you.”

“Maybe he got off on it.” Exasperated, Bri brushed her hair off her forehead. “Maybe he liked toying with us and twisting the truth, or maybe he was forced by Baba Monroe to stay with us, spying and relaying information back.”