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“I’ve scarcely seen you in a dress since you’ve come into my home. It’s easy to forget how you’ve grown when all I see you in is trousers and men’s shirts.” He swallowed and rested a hand over his mouth, his eyes glassing over with tears. “Daughter, there aren’t words for how beautiful you are. What a lovely woman you’ve grown into. Come here, love.” He held his hands out.

Wren closed the distance between them and hugged her father. He held her tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“How has this day come already?” he whispered. “Only yesterday, you were my little shadow, causing mischief everywhere in the keep.”

“Don’t worry, Papa,” she answered. “I plan on causing a lot of mischief in the next few years.”

“That I don’t doubt.” He laughed and released her, wiping at his eyes. “Rowen has no idea what is in store for him.”

The king took her hand and led her to the chairs that bracketed the fireplace. He helped her sit and then knelt to make sure the train of her dress wouldn’t get wrinkled. Affection warmed Wren.

She wriggled her brows at him when he stood and took his own seat. “Playing the lady’s maid?”

Her father grinned, his white teeth stark against his skin. “Your mum would have my head if you rumpled that gown. It was for my sake as much as yours.”

“I already was threatened by her this morning not to show up in trousers.”

“Sounds like her. Would have been easier,” he commented.

“I’ll say.” Wren grimaced as she shifted. “You’re not the one wearing a corset.”

“I do not envy you, Daughter. Women’s fashion is a nightmare. Sounds damned horrific.” Her father’s smile faded. “You do know I never wanted you tobea boy, don’t you?” he asked, a frown of concern furrowing his brow. “I admit I may have gotten overeager in my attempts to train you like one—”

“Stop right there, Papa,” Wren cut in. “I’m glad I didn’t have to grow up as a stereotypical girl. I could only be who I am today because of you. How can I be anything but proud to be your daughter?”

The king’s gruff face softened. “It isIwho am proud ofyou. I could not have asked for a better daughter. You, Britta, and your mother are the lights of my life. You and I may not share blood, but you are mine in every other way. I hope you know how precious you are.”

“I do not care for blood,” Wren said. “Adopted or not. I do not care. We are a family, and that is it.”

Her father’s shoulders finally relaxed, though he still sat stock-straight in the chair—years of military training. “You’re just at the beginning of your life, Wren,” he said, his eyes shining, pride clear in his expression as he regarded her. “You have so many choices ahead of you. I cannot wait to see what you do.”

They settled into silence, listening to the fire crackle and the storm grow closer. Wren closed her eyes and savored the moment. When was the last time she was able to spend time with her papa, just the two of them?

“Wren?”

She opened her eyes and studied his serious expression. The king sat forward in his chair, his hands clasped together, lips pressed together. It was a look that didn’t bode well. Her gut clenched. What was wrong?

“Father? What is on your mind? I can tell something is troubling you.”

“So astute. You’ve always been like that—able to sense other’s emotions.” The king rubbed his forehead and gave her a weak smile, shaking his head. “Today is a happy day, and I don’t wish to make it otherwise.”

A chill ran down her spine. “Tell me.”

“As you know, our foreign negotiations aren’t the best right now.”

“When are they ever?” Wren wrinkled her nose. “You know how I feel about the damned tithe. What more do the Verlantians want from us?”

“Our kingdom.”

And that was the ugly truth of it. The elves wanted control of the Dragon Isles. “Well, they’re not getting it.”

The king gave her a wider smile. “No, they are not,” he murmured, looking at the fire. “I want you to enjoy this day, love, because the days coming may not be so easy.”

Wren scooted to the edge of her seat and held her hand out. Her father grasped her left hand between his own and squeezed it twice. “No matter what, I am with you. Just because I will be someone’s wife, it doesn’t mean that I’m not your daughter or your rider. My sword is yours.”

“I know that.” He released her hand and cupped her cheek. “If things do not go well, do you remember the plan?”

Wren nodded. She was to get her mother and sister out of the keep and flee. She planned on getting her family to safety, but she wouldn’t flee. Ever.