“I divided what I had between us,” Devra said. “You’ll need to be careful. Some of these might not be healthy to give to a different land. But most, I think, will be similar enough to what is there. So you can turn over a small patch of ground, plant a few seeds—and know we’re with you in heart.”

“Mother.” Cassidy blinked back tears as she ran her fingers over the tops of the jars. “Thank you.”

Devra brushed a hand lightly over Cassidy’s hair. “You’re still set on going after the midday meal?”

Cassidy nodded. “I’d like some time to settle before I meet the Warlord Prince from Dena Nehele. Prince Sadi and Lady Angelline arranged for us all to have dinner at the Keep so there would be an opportunity to talk with him a bit before making a final decision.” A formality, really. Unless he was some kind of fearsome male, she would give his people a year of her life. Besides, she’d spent four months in the Dark Court and had slammed into Lucivar Yaslana on occasion, and there was no male more fearsome than Yaslana when he was in a mood.

Except Prince Sadi. Or so she’d heard.

“Is Poppi coming home to see me off?” Cassidy asked.

“Your father is in the sitting room, brooding. Has been for the past hour.”

“He didn’t have to leave his work so early.”

“He hit his thumb with a hammer twice because he was busy brooding.” Devra shook her head. “After that, old Lord Wittier tottered your father over to the Healer’s to make sure nothing was broken, and refused to let him come back to finish the work until you were off.”

She could picture old Lord Wittier clinging to Burle’s arm to keep his balance while insisting that he was taking Burle to the Healer—and telling everyone why Burle needed a Healer.

Smacked himself with a hammer, the fool. Too busy thinking about his girl to tell the difference between a nail and a thumbnail. Gotta take him to the Healer’s, make sure he didn’t mash any bones. Who would have thought Burle would smack himself with a hammer?

“Oh, dear,” she said, wishing she’d been in a shop where she could have watched that procession without being seen.

“Don’t tease your father, Cassidy. He’s already had a difficult day.”

Taking the wooden box from her mother, Cassidy set it next to the trunk of books. “Shall we go downstairs? There’s nothing more to do.”

“If you go down now, he’ll have an extra hour to fuss about you leaving and to take you through the checklist he made in order to check the checklist he’d previously made.”

Cassidy smiled. “I know. But he’ll feel better for it, don’t you think?”

Ebon ASKAVI