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“Once we’re in the grounds, you may remove your cloaks,” Audra tells the men. “It’s too warm to keep them on any longer.”

Looking glad to be free of the extra layer, the men do as they’re instructed, and we begin the walk to the manor.

The grounds aregreen. The color glows from the low growing grass that carpets the earth, to the verdant leaves prolifically sprouting from the weeping branches of the thick-trunked trees that line the path. Hedges edge the cobblestone road as well, along with roses that bloom in soft shades of cream.

“Why do you have a carriage if the entrance of your estate is at the canal?” Bartholomew asks.

“Because my mother often does not care to take the ten-minute walk past the gates,” Audra answers.

“You have a carriage simply to transport you down your drive?” Bartholomew asks, sounding as awed as he is stunned.

The elven woman laughs. “That’s really all it’s good for, yes. We have several more, of course, located in the royal stable to the north of the city. Most of upper Ferradelle is accessible by road, but in Revalane, you either travel by dory or on foot.”

We continue through the perfectly groomed grounds until we spot the manor ahead.

A large raised pool sits at the heart of the entry courtyard, with a fountain at its center. As we pass it, Audra tuts and turns to Lyredon. “Alvin has put another mershim in the pond again.”

I peer over the edge. “What’s a mershim?”

“It’s swimming there.” Audra points toward a creature at the far end of the raised pool. “It’s likely already eaten all of Mother’s fish. She’ll be livid when she finds out—it’s the fifth time she’s had to replace them.”

When I spot the creature, I take a startled step back. It’s the largest amphibian I’ve ever seen, nearly the size of a duck, with a body like a frog, but elongated. It’s olive green, with muted orange spots, and it has far too many eyes. It swims through the knee-deep water, looking contentedly full.

I don’t see a single fish, so I suppose Audra must be right.

“I can take him out if you like,” Bartholomew says, already rolling up his sleeves. “Animals like me well enough, and I’ve always been fond of frogs.”

“No, you mustn’t,” she says idly, waving us along. “They excrete a hallucinogenic toxin when handled and must be removed with a net.”

Bartholomew takes a step away from the pond.

“Who’s Alvin?” Ayan asks.

“My youngest brother—your youngest cousin,” Audra answers. “He’s fourteen and a bit of a handful.”

Ayan nods, looking a little overwhelmed. What must this be like for him?

A woman steps from the doors, drawing our attention. She and Audra share the same soft brunette hair, but she’s a generation older. This must be Ayan’s aunt.

Though her daughter wears trousers and a tunic, she’s in a gossamer gown in periwinkle. It laces at the bodice before the skirt falls in soft layers to the ground, and the material skims over the elf’s slender figure like water.

Their style is graceful and elegant, and it looks far more comfortable in this humidity than my beloved mercenary wear.

“Audra,” the woman says warmly when she spots her daughter. “You’ve returned.”

“Hello, Mother. I see Alvin added a new pet to your pond again.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to bother removing it this time,” the woman says as her gaze travels over the rest of us in question.

When she spots Ayan, her eyes widen, and her mouth goes soft. She takes a step down the entry stairs and pauses.

She then takes another…and pauses again.

“Ayanleon,” she whispers.

He looks uncomfortable with the attention. After a moment, he gives her a respectful nod.

Slowly, looking as if her heart is twisting in her chest, the lady of the estate descends the remaining stairs and comes to stand in front of Ayan. “You look like your father,” she whispers, taking him in. Her voice breaks a little. “Look at you, all grown up.”