“Never.” Carys sniffed her armpits, applying a salve under them before turning to follow Bri. “Now, hopefully, the Princess deigns to meet with us this time.”

Bri’s lips twisted into a smirk. She wanted to tell Carys about Airev. That moment last night had flashed through her mind again and again, and something about it was too special, too rare a feeling, to share it with anyone else. Instead, Bri headed out the door, muttering, “Let’s go see what the dainty Princess is up to.”

Chapter Seven

When Bri walked into the room, her chest seized at the sight of Lina sitting at the head of the table. She wore a shimmering black dress that hugged her generous figure and jewels draped from her ears and neck. An ornate battle-axe leaned against her chair, just like the one on the royal crest. Bri’s mind exploded, thinking of what Lina would look like wielding that giant axe in her formfitting gown.

She sat, trying to regain her composure. The sight of Lina had been a terrible, glorious surprise. She couldn’t tell who was more endearing—this gorgeous Princess dripping in jewels or the axe-wielding vigilante of Swifthill.

The decor in the room was distinctly Western, from the beadwork wall art to the patterned linen napkins. Bri took another spoonful of her sweet rice porridge, dotted with raisins and spiced with ginger. Her mother had attempted to have her cooks re-create the Western dish in their Eastern home, but it never tasted quite right. As she took a mouthful of the hearty breakfast, she understood now what her mother was talking about.

Bri peeked at the Princess over her steaming mug of tea. They dined in a small room on the first floor, the table swallowing up the space. Darrow sat to one side of Lina and an empty chair to the other. Carys and Bri sat across from Delta and Saika, Delta’s face looking even more gaunt and lifeless than the day before. Bri silently thanked the Gods that Delta’s surgery would happen today.

Carys reached across the table to a tray of fresh fruit and served herself a hefty scoop. “You have passion fruit this early in spring?”

The rest of the table looked over at her.

“It’s the ash in the soil,” Darrow said, grabbing a piece of cinnamon flatbread from the center of the table and dipping it into his porridge.

Delta snickered. “Don’t let him fool you. There’s a greenhouse in the gardens that holds the heat year-round.” She winced, her sweaty brow bunching as she set her goblet down. The act of eating breakfast seemed to exhaust her.

“It’s so beautiful out there. Have you been?” Saika leaned her arm over Delta’s chair.

Bri held in her scowl at the exuberant pixie. It was not her fault that her wife was unfaithful. Still, she couldn’t imagine Delta married. Saika was the exact opposite of Delta’s soldierly gruffness. Such spirit would be nothing but irksome to Bri.

“We only just arrived yesterday,” Carys said.