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He noted a few wooded homes with shingled roofs, a main thoroughfare, a giant meeting house which she pointed out as the marketplace, a few two-storied buildings where commerce occurred, a mercantile, an apothecary and healer—though Tarley pointed out it wasn’t her mother’s shop—a blacksmith, a leather worker. There was a Sun Church—a nondescript building rather than an actual cathedral where most of the ostentatious sects of Sun worshipers met—near a giant tree at the center of things which Tarley called “the green,” and beyond that was the inn. The Copper Pot was the only pub and accommodations in Sevens it seemed, though Tarley mentioned a skin house a bit further out of town.

By the time they entered the courtyard of The Copper Pot Inn, Lachlan was too tired to be irritated with even himself. He was too tired to feel much of anything aside from the ache in his ribs and the blisters on his feet.

The inn rose two stories with jutting dormers at equidistant intervals. Mullion windows glowed with yellow light as the sun sank below the horizon. The building wrapped around a cobblestone courtyard where a nicely kept stable was situated. It matched the stone and wooden facade of the inn, with mullioned windows and an attic room with an outdoor staircase that led to a wooden door. The River Grimz cut behind the inn, flowing through the village. Tarley pointed out the shingled roof of a mill further down river.

As he followed Tarley into the courtyard, a young man—no more than seventeen—rushed out from the stables.

“Tarley? That you?”

“Evening, Trevis,” she said. “All clear?”

Lachlan knew she was asking him about the hunters.

“As a summer night.” The young man’s eyes caught on Lachlan and narrowed. “Who’s this?”

“This is Ollie. He was injured. Has my mother been about?”

“Injured, you say? Your mum was here last night with Jessamine. She’s here.” His gaze lingered on Lachlan. “Dr. Rufus is dining in tonight. Want me to get him?”

“Oh gods, no,” Tarley said. “Absolutely not.” Lachlan watched her shudder and wondered about it. “Credence?”

“Running the meal.”

Lachlan listened to their dialogue, hearing the inside knowledge, the shared history between them, and hated being outside of it. He’d had Tarley’s full attention for nearly two weeks and suddenly resented having to share it, which was ridiculous and immature. It also wasn’t befitting a prince.

“Ollie?”

“Apologies,” he said, trying to adjust the pack on his back and wincing, his ribs reminding him he wasn’t completely whole yet.

Tarley came to him immediately, removing the pack. “We need a place for Ollie, Trevis.”

“He can bunk with me in the stable.”

“Can you check in with Credence, and if she’s unavailable, with Horance? Let them know I’m back but not to send for my father.”

“Mattias is here. He brought Jessamine.”

“He is?” Tarley smiled, and it was the first time Lachlan could remember seeing that kind of smile grace her face. There was no hesitation, no trepidation, no tempering of emotions. It was beautiful. “Did he say why?”

“Who’s Mattias?” Lachlan asked.

“He was worried they couldn’t get to you sooner,” Trevis said, ignoring Lachlan as he crossed the courtyard. “Was getting ready to head out at first light.”

“My brother. Remember?” she asked Lachlan, and he felt foolish at the twinge of jealousy he’d felt.

She called out to Trevis, “Tell Mattias, will you?”

“Sure thing, Tarley.”

“Oh, and Trevis?”

The boy stopped again and turned.

“Would you ask Mrs. Barnwell to heat some extra water for a bath?”

The boy nodded and continued to a doorway where he disappeared.

“Come,” Tarley said and helped Lachlan to the stables. “Think you can climb a ladder?”