Fionn looks disappointed, and I wonder how the famed warrior is taking to the life of a diplomat. They don’t have access to any sparring rings, and that must be especially frustrating for him. I’ll fix that tomorrow. They’ll need to train for the breakout anyway without raising suspicions, and it will be an olive branch. I hope.

Silene, ever the strategist, chimes in. “Thorne can use his magic to hide us and make it so that only the rebels are seen. We’ll have to convince the rebels to provide fighters and ensure they know they’ll be blamed for the breakout. I suspect they won’t mind. We’ll want to make sure there are enough guards to spot and report the rebels, but not so many guards that it’s suspicious only a few rebels can get past them.”

“Leave that to me. Prince Hawthorne, would you be able to hide both Fionn and Silene from another room?” I ask.

“Of course. I’m not the most powerful light channeler ever known for nothing.” He winks.

“Rumors of your reputation mention little about your magical abilities,” I retort.

Catching my subtle innuendo, he smirks. “And what abilities did you hear about, witchling?” My legs clench together involuntarily at the sultry tone of his voice, but I won’t let him win whatever this is.

“Let’s just say your reputation for drinking and—other things—precedes you,” I add, eyes focused on the dimple that makes another appearance.

“Sounds like you were really interested in me,” he quips, voice low. I swear his body leans in toward me, but I ignore it.

“Hardly,” I scoff, though my cheeks heat and I try really hard not to notice the way his shirt stretches taut across his chest.

“If only we’d met sooner, you wouldn’t have had to go to such extreme lengths to learn more,” he taunts. I find myself rolling my eyes while my lips tighten in an unbidden half-smile. I quickly return my face to neutral. I need to get this conversation back on track.

“Speaking of meeting, after you demanded an audience with me and chastised me so thoroughly for the lack of pomp and circumstance for your arrival, I’m suddenly feeling inspired to throw a ball in your honor, princeling.” I give the last word my most sarcastic bluster, challenging the Prince with my gaze. The plan dawns on him and his face brightens. My breath catches in my chest at the sight of his handsome features pulled into a smile directed only at me, but I don’t let that show on my face.

“With the recent rebel attacks, you’ll want to increase security significantly for a ball. You wouldn’t want the rebels to cause trouble in front of the Velmaran Crown Prince, would you?” he asks in mock concern.