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Isadere stopped beyond their knotted circle, waiting to be acknowledged. Their brother was not so tactful. Sibrez shifted from foot to foot, impossible to overlook.

“Your generosity might save the realm. Allward is forever in your debt, Your Highness,” Corayne said quickly, before Dom, Sorasa, Charlie, Valtik, or Sigil could ruin the entire endeavor.Andry and I should be the only ones allowed to speak in mixed company.

Again Isadere looked pleased, but also grave. They stepped forward, arms outstretched. Their traveling robes were the same deep blue of their silks, woven with threads of gold.

Corayne took their hands. Thankfully, Dom did not interfere, content to watch from a very close distance.

“I see so much in you, Corayne an-Amarat,” Isadere said, looking her over. Their face grew more grim, and Corayne felt her heart twist.

“I know what you see, Your Highness,” she murmured back, trying to ignore the Spindleblade across her own shoulders. “A girl, barely more than a child. Too small for the sword, too small for the task put in front of me.” Her breath caught. “And you may be right.”

Isadere’s dark eyes narrowed.

“But I’m all we have.” Corayne tried to sound strong, but her voice quavered anyway.

“And for that, I am grateful,” Isadere said, taking Corayne by surprise. “I see the gods in your eyes, and bravery in your heart. I see the Spindle in your blood, burning hotter than any flame. I only wish I could give you more.”

A flush warmed Corayne’s face. “Passage and horses is enough.”

Isadere’s grip tightened, fingers strong and fierce. “I give you promises too. The mirror showed me the white wolf. Oscovkowillhelp, and I will make my father listen, both to your tale and to Lasreen. The goddess wills us to fight.” They looked back to the desert again, eyes filled with resolve. “I will not stand by and let Erida of Galland devour the realm. You must trust in this.”

Corayne bit her lip. “I will certainly try,” she muttered.

The lies had fallen so easily from Erida. In that small room, where she pretended to care about Allward, pretended to be their savior. Corayne had wanted to believe the Queen so badly.I was an easy target, eager to give my task to someone else,she thought.And I still am, though no one will ever be able to take it.

She tried to see past her own weariness and fear, to look into Isadere and find the same lie Erida told.

Isadere stared back, their eyes like iron.

“Thank you,” Corayne forced out, giving Isadere’s arms a squeeze before pulling back.

“And I do have something else for you.Wedo, I mean,” Isadere said, gesturing to their brother.

Sibrez bowed his head and unclasped his vambraces, the black leather guards around his forearms. They wrapped from the wrist to below the elbow, the leather patterned in gold with the same scaled design as his armor.

“You will be the first person beyond theEla-Dirynto wear them,” he said, holding out the pair to Corayne. She looked them over, wide-eyed, before taking the vambraces with trembling hands. “Dirynsima.Dragonclaws.”

They were heavier than she expected, a good weight, with worn leather buckles on the underside to keep them in place around her arms. She turned them over, examining the finely made armor. With a gasp, she realized the extra weight came from a steel splint reinforcing the vambraces. Tiny but lethal triangular spikes stood out along the long outer edge, marching from wrist to elbow. Corayne tested one, and nearly drew blood.

Sibrez looked on proudly. If he missed his Dragonclaws, he did not show it.

“These vambraces can absorb the strike of a blade, if used properly,” he said, tapping a finger against the steel-enforced edge.

Sorasa appeared then, peering at the vambraces with discerning eyes. Whatever she saw in the leather guards, the Amhara certainly liked.

“She’ll learn,” she said, eyeing Sibrez.

Begrudgingly, he nodded in return.

“Thank you both,” Corayne said, her fingers tight on the gift. She wouldn’t wear them yet. Sailing with a set of spikes strapped to her body didn’t seem prudent. “I hope we meet again.”

Isadere nodded, sweeping back their arms, their trailing sleeves like the wings of a beautiful bird. “The mirror has not shown me the end of this road yet, but I hope so too.”

With another low bow, Corayne stepped back. A rowboat waited to take them to the galley, the Ibalet captain already at its prow. The others followed, breaking off to unload the saddlebags. It would take some time to ferry the horses to the galley, and Corayne knew it might be hours until they truly set sail. Still, it felt good to get on another ship, to set off in the right direction again.

The Companions made to go, but Isadere reached out, stopping Charlie with a hand, bidding him wait a moment.

Charlie met Isadere’s eye in silence. He could not have been further in appearance from the Heir: a short, heavyset young man with inky fingers and pale skin streaked by sunburns. But something seemed to unite them too. A reverence Corayne could not understand.