I sighed, both disappointed and immensely relieved to know that was unlikely, and picked up my lemon tea. “He’s calmed down, but he was called to the Keep at first light. There’s still much for us to discuss.”

I’d left a note upon the dining table, explaining where I’d gone just in case he returned to the cottage before I did.

“Later, then,” Olivianna said, blowing on her tea with a knowing glint in her eye.

I smiled and sipped. “Yes, later.”

Little Ryon raced downstairs, jumping from the last two and landing with the grace of a wolf he was perhaps going to become. “You’re back.” I set my tea down as he hurried over, two pieces of parchment in his hand. “You forgot your pictures.” He spread them over the table, nearly knocking my tea over.

I shifted it aside, smiling bright when I glimpsed the…

The handprint of blood upon a doorframe.

Olivianna hummed, the sound throaty as if she were withholding a laugh. “Quite good, aren’t they? Very… realistic.”

The other picture was of Scythe—or rather, of his scarred eye.

“Indeed,” I said, smiling wide. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen pictures quite like this.”

Olivianna snorted, and Ryon frowned at her.

I tapped the picture of my handprint. “You are very talented. Just look at this detail.”

He beamed, leaning on the table and kicking his legs out behind him. “Mama says you know the angry wolf.”

I laughed. “I do indeed. Would you like me to show him this?”

Ryon nodded. “You keep them.”

I feigned a gasp, pressing my hand to my heart. “Truly?”

His smile stretched, displaying a crooked canine and two dimples.

Olivianna stilled beside me, then set her teacup down in the saucer with a clatter. Ryon whirled to face the door.

A female with golden hair and eyes stood in the doorway. “I do hope I’m not interrupting. I can come back.”

“Not at all.” Olivianna rose and curtsied. “Come in, come in.”

Ryon bowed, and rushed to hug her legs. “Opal!”

My stomach sank. Royalty.

If it weren’t the show of respect and sudden tension in the air that gave that away, then it was her posture, the opulent gown of cream and crystal blue silk and gentle ruffles.

Belatedly, I realized I should rise too, and I lowered into a clumsy curtsy. Opal noticed, closing the door, and eyed me curiously. “I do not believe we’ve met.”

“This is Aster. A friend…” Olivianna looked at me, finishing with, “A friend of mine.”

Although I knew why she’d said it, I still felt that she’d meant it. My heart warmed. I gave her a smile.

“Aster, this is my friend and our new queen, Opal.”

“The swan,” I said before I could help myself.