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Edmund recognized the look of someone plotting. It seemed Farrendel’s family planned to make up for their lack of excitement for Essie and Farrendel’s marriage by going overboard celebrating this happy news.

Weylind cleared his throat, the lines on his face warning that he was about to turn the conversation in a more serious direction. “Is the situation in Mongavaria resolved?”

His grin dropping from his face, Edmund met Weylind’s hard, dark eyes and nodded. “It is. The Mongavarian king understands exactly what will happen to him if he tries to hurt Farrendel and Essie again.”

Weylind gave one, sharp nod. “Good.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Edmund could see Farrendel and Essie shifting, as if uncomfortable with how much it had taken to keep them safe.

Especially now that they knew about Julien’s willingness to sacrifice himself to a marriage with a troll woman to secure that alliance. While Edmund hoped his brother would be happy with his choice, he couldn’t help but be selfishly thankful Julien had been the one to volunteer for that duty. As Edmund’s heart was already taken by a certain elf princess, this was one time he would have chosen his heart over his kingdom, if it had come down to it.

“Please have a seat, Prince Edmund.” Rheva gestured to one of the empty cushions on the floor.

He did not move to take the offered seat. All he wanted to do was gather Jalissa into his arms and, finally, kiss her.

But he had to do this right. More than anything, when he at last kissed Jalissa, he wanted it to be right in a way it never had before. The benefit to his years of spying on Tarenhiel was that he was familiar with their customs and could follow them.

For that reason, he’d stopped at Winstead Palace before going on to Tarenhiel. He’d needed to report to Averett, gather the contents of the bag at his feet, and wash so that he didn’t arrive on Jalissa’s doorstep smelling of three weeks without bathing in anything other than a stream and wearing a bristly beard that he didn’t know if she would like or not. They had yet to discuss her facial hair preferences.

Edmund squared his shoulders, faced Weylind, and spoke in elvish. “Weylind Daresheni, brother of Jalissa Amirah, I wish to ask to court her. I present these gifts to you and your family to prove to her and to you that my intentions are honorable.”

Someone choked, then coughed, though Edmund didn’t look to see who it was. He could hear Farrendel’s faint what? followed by Essie’s I told you they had grown close during the war!

But he kept his focus on Weylind, trying not to shift as the full force of the elf king’s glower fell on him.

After several long, agonizing moments, Weylind snapped out a single word. “Proceed.”

Not the most encouraging tone, but Edmund hadn’t expected anything less from Weylind. He would play the part of disapproving older brother to the last, just to make sure Edmund was well and truly squirming.

Edmund picked up a wooden cane from where he had laid it on the floor next to his bag. He approached Leyleira, bowed, and presented her with it.

Leyleira raised her eyebrow, not reaching for the cane. “I am old, but I am not infirm.”

“No, you are not. Nor is this a cane to aid a frail woman. It is the weapon of a former queen who carries it as a scepter of her wisdom.” Edmund straightened and gestured to the cane. “It was carved by one of the finest woodworkers that Escarland’s mountains have to offer. The top is shaped into a tree, representing Ellonahshinel, and it is formed out of solid oak, making it sturdy enough to knock on doors for entry or corral wayward grandchildren.”

Almost despite herself, Leyleira’s mouth twitched with a smile. Good. He was getting to her.

“And, if you press this hidden button here…” Edmund demonstrated. The top of the cane came off in his hand, and he pulled it out, drawing a slim blade the size of a dagger. “You now have a dagger suitable to dispatch any Mongavarian spies that might come calling again. It also works great to slice cakes at birthday parties.” He slid the dagger back into the cane until it snapped into place once more. “All without carrying anything as garish as a leather sheath over your dress. You should never underestimate the value of a good cane. Do I need to go on?”

“No, I believe you have quite convinced me.” Leyleira took the cane from him. After a moment, she tapped the head of the cane against his chest. “You have a rather questionable silver tongue, young man, but I believe you will do.”

Some of the tension along his back eased. One family member and one blessing down.

As he turned to Weylind, the glower was still there, though tempered by a touch of humor. “I do not believe any of us will forgive you. Machasheni was already formidable, but now you have given her a weapon.”

Leyleira made a tutting sound and tapped the cane on the floor. She tilted her head, as if discovering she liked the sound it made, and sharply rapped the cane on the floor again. Then, she rested her hands on it with a rather satisfied smile.

Now he was starting to feel a little rueful watching her. “I may live to regret that gift.”

When he turned back to Weylind, the elf king had crossed his arms, as if to warn Edmund that he would not be so easily won by a silver tongue.

Edmund reached into an inner pocket of his tunic and withdrew an envelope. He bowed and handed it to Weylind.

Frowning, Weylind opened the flap and pulled out the single sheet of paper. Perhaps sensing its import, he kept it tilted so that even Rheva next to him couldn’t read it. The slightest widening of his eyes and lift to his brows gave away his surprise, and Edmund could see the moment Weylind spotted Averett’s signature on the bottom, confirming that Averett had given permission for this.

After the Mongavarian spies had turned Escarland’s Intelligence Office against Tarenhiel so neatly, Averett agreed that Weylind deserved to know this truth to clear the air between the two kings and two kingdoms. Under the table, of course. Only Averett, Weylind, and Edmund would know. Not even Edmund’s superiors in the Intelligence Office would learn of this.

Edmund would tell Jalissa as well, though she already knew most of it. More than Averett, even.