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Des shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “No.”

Why would a tree bleed? And is it just the oak trees right where we were training, or is it the whole forest of them?

I think back to last night when Des had me pressed up against another oak. That one had been fine…

One of Des’s guards comes striding out to us, his eyes wide. “Your Majesty—” His voice cuts off abruptly when he sees me.

“You may speak freely,” Des commands.

The guard’s attention returns to Des. “Two of our soldiers are missing.”

Two soldiers aremissing?

Des raises an eyebrow. “It’s well past noon. Why am I being informed of this now?” Des demands.

The guard shakes his head. “The festivities… They had the morning off… They were supposed to check in for roll call at twelve. When they didn’t, several soldiers went looking for them. Their beds are still made, their bags still packed. We don’t think they made it back from the celebration last night.”

Des’s mouth tightens. His gaze briefly moves to me, his expression inscrutable.

“Continue searching for the men,” he finally says. “There’s still a chance they’re sleeping off the effects of last night.”

Des’s grim gaze meets mine, and his eyes say what his mouth won’t: there’s still a chance, but it’s an infinitesimally small one.

Bleeding trees and missing men.

And we haven’t even been here a day yet.

***

Training for the rest of the day is canceled. Des and I part ways at the garden—him to check on his men, and me to take a shower. Wearily, I climb the staircase that wraps around the giant cedar, passing room after room.

Going to have buns of steel before this week is through.

Des and I are on something like the thirty-seventh floor.

I pause when I see Temper’s room ahead of me, giving myself a moment to catch my breath. As I lean against the railing, enjoying the view, the door to my friend’s room opens.

I raise my eyebrows when I see Malaki slipping out.

Whelp. Temper bagged the Lord of Dreams all right.

As soon as he sees me, he ducks his head, running his hand along the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.

I lift my hands. “None of my business.”

But it’s going to become my business the moment Temper corners me. She loves divulging all the juicy details of her sexploits.

He clears his throat then nods sheepishly as he passes me. His footsteps are fading down the stairs when I think of something.

“Wait”—I swivel around—“Malaki.”

He stops on the stairs below me and turns around, his eye patch glinting in the sun. In the harsh light of day, the scar that stretches out from beneath the patch is even more gruesome.

“Is there any way I could see the Flora Kingdom’s sleeping women?”

His brows furrow. “I could ask…”

I suck in my lower lip. “Would you?”