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He doesn’t meet my gaze. “Working on it.”

Guilt stabs my heart. I was so focused on the journey to track down phoenix tears that I almost forgot the tragedy that occurred the night before I left. Now that I remember, a fresh wave of grief crashes over me, and I know what I’m experiencing is nothing compared to Agnar’s and Sterling’s pain.

Poor Agnar. He hasn’t had a moment to deal with losing Blair.

The royal guards shift at my approach, their stern faces set like chiseled stone. Their eyes follow me, their gazes sharp, but they offer no words. They’re just statues guarding secrets I’m not privy to yet. A flash of irritation courses through me, tempered by the knowledge that these men are just another set of pawns in a game far bigger than any of us.

I sidle up next to Agnar, taking his arm in an effort to pause his fretful pacing. “Please tell me Sterling’s not…” I can’t force myself finish that sentence.

Agnar shakes his head, patting my arm. “Nothing like that. But it’s complicated, Lark. He’s shut himself in with the royal council. Won’t see anyone else.”

“Define ‘complicated.’” I glance at Rhiann, who’s silently listening to the conversation.

“From what I gather,” he leans in close, speaking in a hushed tone so the nearby guards can’t overhear, “one of our spies showed up this morning. Ever since, things have been off. Military movements in Aclaris are happening. Something about mobilizing troops. All hush-hush.”

Unease tightens my gut. “What? But why?”

Agnar shrugs, his usual confidence lacking. “Beats me. None of it makes tactical sense. Not to me, anyway.”

I blow out a frustrated breath. “What about Leesa?”

“Stable, last I checked.” There’s a softness to his voice, despite the fact that my sister murdered his friend. “Still in her cell, surrounded by guards.”

“Good.” The relief loosens the tightness in my shoulders. “At least there’s?—”

My words cut off as a growl from my belly echoes through the corridor, loud enough to draw smirks from even the stoic guards. Heat creeps up my cheeks, but I lift my chin.

Agnar raises an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you ate?”

Great question. Whenwasthe last time I ate? “Umm…I think I ate some dried meat this morning?” I attempt a joke to lighten the somber mood. “Food just doesn’t hold the same appeal if my big, brave food taster doesn’t try it first.”

“Wow, I’m touched. Truly.” He clasps his hand over his heart. “Now, how about we get something to eat? It’ll give Sterling more time to finish whatever it is he’s doing. Food first, then plotting.”

“That was a joke,” I mumble. “I think we can dispense with your tasting duty now. I’ll be fine.”

“We can dispense with it just soon as Knox gives the okay.”

“Let’s not stand around here.” Rhiann motions to the closed door and the dour guards. “Your meal should be delivered to your rooms by now, Lady Lark. I know you like to eat your meals with the crown prince, but tonight, perhaps this arrangement will be better. These things will take as long as they take, and not a moment less.”

Agnar grunts his agreement, casting another side-eye at the guards. Their presence is like a constant itch.

I wonder if he’s ever been kept waiting at Sterling’s door before. “Is this normal? Working into the night like he’s already wearing the crown? I take it he wasn’t showing any signs of corruption?”

“He showed no signs of aggression, and with that many people inside, we would know if anything changed. As for normal? Perhaps not.” Rhiann releases a weary sigh, and her tone softens. “Who else can make the decisions for the kingdom in these times? The dowager queen? She barely has any strength left after giving dampening lessons day in and day out, and after a time, her mind starts to drift.”

The guards shift on their feet, discomfort clear even beneath their stoic masks.

My heart tugs at the mention of Alannah, whose frailty remains at constant odds with her determination. “And how are the lessons going?”

“Better than expected.” Agnar lifts his chin with pride. “We’re getting the hang of it. Aren’t we, Rhiann?”

“Indeed.” She nods, though I catch the flicker of doubt that crosses her face. The shadow quickly disappears, leaving me to wonder if I imagined it.

“Have you managed it?” The question slips out before I can stop myself, driven by both curiosity and a sliver of apprehension.

“Of course.” There’s something in her eyes that doesn’t quite match her confident tone.

“Good. Because until we face any drachen again, we won’t know for sure.” I trace the sign to ward off evil across my chest, a small gesture, but one that carries weight in these uncertain times.