We arrive just outside of Oakton, having picked the exact place on the map where we wanted to appear several days prior. Silene releases our hands and the three of us walk into the bustling village. The inspiration for the village name becomes immediately apparent, as it sits within a massive oak forest. Sprawling trees that are somehow still green even well into winter grow everywhere there isn’t a building or road. The winter sun filters through the swaying branches high above, casting everything in a sun-dappled glow.

The buildings in the town are all wooden, likely made from the very oaks felled to make room for them. As we walk, I notice there are humans and fae living alongside one another, a rare sight in Velmara outside of the capital, but more common here in Thayaria. Children chase one another through the streets while their parents yell at them to behave. We arrive at the tavern where we were told to meet, though we’re an hour early on purpose.

Silene and I enter through the front doors, while Fionn sneaks around the back to secure an exit for us just in case. It’s gloomy and run down inside, nothing like the pristine and lively pubs of Arberly. A single barmaid wipes down the bar while a group of fae occupy a table in the corner, speaking quietly. Silene shrugs, and we take a seat at a table that has a view of both the front and back entrances.

The barmaid comes over, a human woman who can’t be more than a few decades old. “What can I get ya?” she asks.

I give her a wide, dashing grin. “Just two ales, please,” I say, winking.

As she walks away, Silene snorts. “Must you always flirt with every barkeep we ever encounter? What would Laurel say?” she asks in mock horror.

“One—yes, I must flirt with them, as it makes it easier to get information out of her when she comes back. And two—Laurel seems to pay little attention to who I do or do not flirt with, herself included.” The words come out more defensive and whining than I intend, like I’m pouting that a pretty girl won’t flirt back with me. It’s abhorrent. I try to recover the situation. “The Queen of Thayaria is a mark, nothing more, nothing less. She’s just been… difficult.” The lie is as much for myself as it is for Silene.

“I think Laurel notices you flirting with her,” Silene says with a knowing smile. “The two of you are blatantly obvious about your flirting. And we both know she’s much more than a mark, as you say.”

My cheeks heat, and I stammer out my response. “I—she’s not—we’re—”