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“A promise?” I say skeptically.

He nods, his eyes bright. “When you find out Henrik is as dull as dirt, I’ll let you come back to me. I don’t expect it will take long. You just need a chance to get this strange blacksmith fascination out of your system.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“You’ll be back,” he calls as I step out the door. “And don’t be shy or self-conscious about it—have confidence I’ll forgive you!”

“Hurry up, or we’ll be late.”

Henrik is walking down the hall as I’m leaving Lawrence’s room. His eyes shift to the door, and he gives me a strange smile. “Should I be worried?”

I shake my head, taking his hand. “I asked him to help us.”

The commander gives me a look. “You truly believe Lawrence is capable of convincing his father to free me from his sister?”

I shrug. “He’s the crown prince, after all. Is there anything he can’t accomplish when he sets his mind to it?”

Henrik gives me a carefree look that makes my heart happy. He brings our clasped hands to his lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “He can’t have you.”

“Well, thankfully, he doesn’t want me.”

A strange look crosses the commander’s face.

Hoping to change the subject, I say, “You look very handsome.”

He’s added a jacket to complete the formal outfit. It’s pale gray and complements the subdued blue of his tunic, and I almost wonder if Audra didn’t purposely choose it to bring out the color of his eyes.

“And you look lovely.” He pauses. “Is that the same dress?”

I run my hand along the pale cream material. “Audra worked a little magic on it.”

It was disconcerting to watch. I’ve always known High Vales are gifted craftsmen, but needles and thread shouldn’t move so quickly—nor should they do so unassisted. Audra assured me she was manipulating them, but it felt like there was a ghost in the room.

“It looks beautiful,” Henrik says close to my ear. “But I think I liked it better before.”

Delighted by the commander's new lighter, happier side, I laugh as I claim his arm and lead him down the hall.

I pause as I look out a picture window that faces the southern wilds of Ferradelle. “Do you think the gnomes are all right?”

It’s been weighing heavy on my mind since we left the swamp port.

“I’m sure they are.” Henrik loops a comforting arm around my shoulders. “Like Ayan said—they’re scrappy.”

I nod absently, unsure. They were against so many elves.

“Don’t worry. Maisel has a habit of showing up unannounced. We’ll see her again soon.”

I turn back to him, enjoying how freely he’s touching me now. “You’re probably right.”

I’m just angling up for a kiss when Lawrence interrupts.

“You told me to hurry, and here you are loitering in the hall,” he jokes. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

Henrik shoots the prince a grim look, but we do as we’re told, following him into the foyer where the others are already waiting.

“Have fun,” Ayan says listlessly, obviously not happy about being left behind.

“Don’t pout,” I tell him. “Soon, you’ll spend so much time in the palace, you’ll be sick of the place.”