Chapter Eleven

Bri pulled her sticky, wine-soaked tunic off her chest and waved it, trying to dry the fabric. She should have known Lina wouldn’t wait for her.

“Insufferable,” she muttered, grimacing as the cold fabric touched her skin again. “This is what I get for helping.”

Jogging down the road, she finally spotted Lina’s black cloak winding its way toward the manor at the far end of town. She caught up with Lina in a few strides and, even though she didn’t say anything, she could sense the Princess’s disappointment.

They hiked up the gravel road in silence for a few more paces before Lina finally said, “I figured you’d rather stay back, since you were so comfortable.” She picked up speed, rushing up the hillside as if expecting Bri to fall behind. “You seemed quite at home in that place.”

“That’s just my nature.” Bri snickered, easily keeping up. “I seem quite at home everywhere.”

“But brothels especially.”

Bri flashed a toothy grin. “Jealous?”

Lina twisted her head and Bri was certain of the exact scowl that would be on the Princess’s shadowed face. “I’ll remind you, even with this cloak on, you are speaking to royalty.”

Bri’s smile widened. “And I’ll remind you, I don’t care.”

“Insufferable,” Lina muttered, and Bri had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at hearing the same word echoed back at her. Lina gripped a simple silver necklace in her hand, a pendant of a paw print etched in gold hanging from the chain.

“Is that Tem’s necklace?” Bri tipped her head.

“You’re a sharp one, Catullus.”

“Why a paw print?”

“The wolf is on the Wystron family crest.” Lina clenched the chain in her fist. “Tem said it was a gift from his uncle in Saxbridge.”

They reached the towering manor, the door painted in shimmering gold and the word “Wystron” carved above the arched stone doorway. Bri raised her eyebrows at the monstrosity—gold and silver painted into every corner of the intricately carved walls.

Bri huffed, shaking her head. “A little garish, don’t you think?”

Lina shot her a look. “Says the fae who grew up in the second-largest castle in the East.”

“Good point.” Bri grinned, thinking of the gaudy castle her mother had decorated until it screamed that it was a Western home. “You seem to be going to great lengths for Tem—”

“He’s one of my oldest friends,” Lina cut her off. “Apart from him and Delta, my mother didn’t really let me socialize much. After the Siege of Yexshire, she forbade me to leave the West and she mistrusted many of the fae families in Swifthill.”

Bri folded her arms, the wet, wine-stained fabric bleeding into her sleeves. “But you do go south, like that time in Saxbridge.”

“My mother didn’t know,” Lina said. “She thought I was holidaying at the seaside along the fishing villages by Silver Sands. Many of the richest fae have summer homes there for when the heat becomes stifling in Swifthill. Delta would cover for me, make up extravagant lies about our trips to the sea . . . but I haven’t been anywhere besides Saxbridge since I was a child.”