It was time to bring Sureya home.

Averanche.

Trynne loved the view of the sea from the upper balustrade. The wind fought to veil the view with her own hair, and she had to keep sweeping the strands away as she leaned against the stone railing, thinking about her conversation with the Grand Duke of Brugia. The sun was finally setting—the second time for her. She loved to watch the sun lower over the ocean, the majesty of the sight paired with the sound of the waves crashing so far below.

Located on the border of Westmarch and Brythonica, Averanche was a city that had surrendered to Trynne’s father many years ago, after his successful surprise attack on the King of Occitania’s army. She’d heard so many stories about his exploits that it sometimes felt as if she had lived them too.

Upon their return, she had given instructions for Sureya to be accommodated as befit her station. The girl was still adjusting to the change in climate, and the thin silks she’d worn in the oasis were not warm enough for Ceredigion.

There had been so many duties to attend to that only on her evening walk did she have time to process the grand duke’s request to court her.

She thought about her promise to visit Marq for the feast day. She had not yet shown favor to any of the young suitors who had come calling for her. Some of them were not even young, like the prickly Count Bastian from Legault, who was making a ruckus down below since she’d refused a private meeting with him. He had attended dinner in the hall, for it would hardly have been polite not to invite him, along with five other would-be suitors, but she had ensured they were all seated far away from her. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and returned to a more pleasant one.

Elwis Asturias. It had taken years for her father to defeat his father, King Maxwell. Some wondered why Owen had hammered away at the defenses of Brugia’s cities rather than pressing for a more decisive battle. But Owen did not treat his soldiers’ lives rashly. He had known time was on his side. By besieging the cities, one by one, he’d strained Maxwell’s resources enough to make his people desperate for peace.

Trynne wondered, in retrospect, whether her father had taken the long road in order to gain Maxwell as an ally. The Asturiases were a proud family. A quick victory would have caused more resentment than a hard-won fight.

Her father had always played the long game.