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“This is Commander Nisha James,” Aurileous said, “who is in charge of Medora’s armed human forces—both the Wardens and the standard military.”

Alex examined the commander. “James?” she repeated, her gaze flicking between Jeera and Nisha as she noted the similarities between them, from the bright blue eyes to the dark hair, fading slowly as it was to grey in the older woman.

“I believe you’re well acquainted with my niece and nephew.” Nisha’s face remained stoic, but there was a familiar spark in her eyes as she looked at Alex. “They both speak very highly of you, Alexandra Jennings.” That spark brightened as she finished, “My nephew in particular.”

Feeling heat flood her cheeks for no logical reason, Alex stammered out her thanks and turned back to the king.

“Next is General Alan Drock who heads up the western half of Medora’s active military. I believe you’re… acquainted.”

Alex bit her lip as she took in the king’s twinkling gaze before turning to the general. “Uh, hello, General. It’s… good to see you again.”

Drock’s eyes were narrowed. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drag you out of here and have you imprisoned for fraudulent misconduct, trespassing upon a high-security military base and identity theft—of a royal, no less.”

Alex curled her fingers under the table, her nails pressing into her palms. “I can’t give you one,” she admitted quietly. “But I can say it’s in your best interest that you don’t.”

Drock crossed his arms over his chest. “Confident little bugger, aren’t you?”

Despite the situation, Alex still found humour in his response. “I see your language hasn’t improved since we last spoke.”

Wonder of all wonders, Drock’s mouth twitched. “If you remember,Princess,” he mocked, sounding amused rather than remaining enraged, “I seem to recall owning up to my bad habits.”

“And I recall you agreeing to refrain from such habits when I’m around,” Alex returned light-heartedly.

“Unfortunately for you, that agreement was for Princess Delucia, not Alexandra Jennings.”

Alex dipped her head in acceptance, mostly to avoid letting him see the hope in her eyes. Despite the cantankerous general being an intimidating man, Alex had come to see him more as a kind of uncle figure. She only hoped he might move past her deceit and give her another chance to earn his forgiveness—and his respect.

“Perhaps one day Alexandra Jennings might wrestle the same agreement from you, General,” Alex said softly. “Until then, sometimes a combination of letters can be more powerful than a sword, so I’ll look forward to hearing some of your more…creativedescriptions and expanding my own arsenal of words. You never know when a well-placed expletive will come in handy.”

General Drock surprised Alex with a chuckle, his fierce features softening. “Get ready to take notes, kid. I’ll have your ears burning in no time.”

Alex grinned at him and then the king spoke up again, continuing his introductions.

“Warden Jeera, you already know,” Aurileous nodded towards the woman seated to Alex’s right. “She’s here to represent the Swords branch of the Wardens.” The king repeated the gesture to Bear’s father, adding, “And Warden William is here on behalf of the Shields.” The king paused. “Do I need to explain…?”

Alex shook her head and assured him, “I already know the difference.” She called to mind what Kaiden had once told her—that the Shields were responsible for intelligence gathering and analysis, while the Swords were field agents who acted on that intelligence and neutralised any threats to the kingdom.

Aurileous accepted her response and moved to the next person along. “General Tyson is another acquaintance of yours, or so I hear.”

Alex raised her eyebrows at the new title.

Catching her look, Tyson offered a humble smile and said, “Promotion.”

“Indeed, General Tyson has recently been promoted and now oversees the eastern half of Medora’s military,” the king confirmed.

“Congratulations,” Alex said, returning Tyson’s smile. She then winced and added, “I think.” When Tyson cocked his head in question, she shrugged and avoided his eyes while saying, “Now’s not the best time to be a soldier—leader or otherwise.”

Unable to repress the memory of the future she’d seen, Alex shuddered as she recalled the Library’s vision of both his and Drock’s deaths.

“You’re wrong, Alex,” Tyson said, his voice quiet but firm. “Now is the most important time to be a soldier.”

He had a point. But she still couldn’t ignore the mental image of him lying amid a pile of the dead.

“Lastly, we have the advisor to the throne, Jaxon Stirling.” The king indicated the elderly man seated at his side, his grey hair coupled with a thick moustache leading into a bushy beard, all of which covered a wrinkly, weathered face.

“Any relation to Declan Stirling?” Alex asked.

“He is my grandson. And I’ll thank you to leave out any personal anecdotes regarding him, as you’ve already wasted enough of our time today.”