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“Thank you.” Essie stood, smiled at Jalissa, then she walked over to Farrendel. He held out his swords, then turned. Essie quickly attached first one, then the other sword in place. “All done.”

Farrendel shrugged his shoulders, as if testing how the swords felt. “Linshi. Do you have your gun?”

“Yes.” Essie had her derringer strapped to her ankle. It had saved her life when she and Farrendel had been captured, even if it hadn’t been enough to save Farrendel from the trolls.

Jalissa glided to the door. “Linshi, isciena. I will see you at the ball shortly.”

Essie waited until the door shut before she wrapped her arms around Farrendel’s waist. “Are you all right? Given what happened last time we were at a ball like this in Escarland…”

Farrendel heaved a deep breath, but he embraced her, his hands warm against her back. “I am all right. We both have access to my magic now. Iyrinder and Captain Merrick plan to wait outside the ballroom, so we will be guarded on our walk back to Buckmore Cottage.”

Perhaps it was an overabundance of caution, but Essie wouldn’t argue with it. Last time had turned into a nightmare. She, too, needed this night to end well. She needed to erase the fear that still lingered from those moments of being kidnapped right out of her childhood home.

Essie leaned closer to him, careful not to smudge her cosmetics or knock her tiara askew. In the heart bond, his magic crackled in a comforting way, at her fingertips in case she needed it. “Thank you for taking extra care with our security tonight.”

His sigh washed warm against her hair. “I will still likely be jumpy tonight.”

“So will I.” Essie straightened and touched her hair to make sure her curls and the tiara were still in place. “We might as well get going. We don’t have to make a grand entrance.”

Instead of holding out his arm, Farrendel took her hand, clasping it in the Escarlish way of holding hands.

Essie didn’t let go, and she didn’t care if anyone gossiped about their show of affection in public once they reached Winstead Palace and its ballroom. Right now, she needed the warmth of Farrendel’s hand clasping hers and the assurance that this time he wasn’t going to get ripped away from her.

* * *

Jalissa glided into the ballroom of Winstead Palace with her hand on Edmund’s arm. She had done so at the last Escarlish ball she had attended, but this felt even more…real. Back then, she had merely been slightly attracted to the Escarlish prince. That was before the two weeks of fighting across Kostaria when she had turned to him so completely during those dark weeks when one of her greatest fears—that of losing her brothers—had been coming true.

Edmund leaned closer to her, his breath tickling her ear. “You look especially beautiful tonight.”

Jalissa felt her ears heat, but she forced herself to glare at Edmund. She refused to be warmed by his compliment. “This is a ruse, remember? You should not be whispering compliments in my ear.”

“Perhaps not, but you’re too tense.” Edmund’s chuckle was far too close, weakening her knees.

“And you are faking this courtship far too well.” Jalissa could not keep the breathy note from her voice.

When she glanced at Edmund, he had a small quirk to his mouth. “We’ve drawn attention, whispering like this. By now, half the court is talking about our growing romance.”

Jalissa wanted to smack him. Instead, she tried to sharpen her glare. “Perhaps I should stomp off. That would ruin your plans.”

“You won’t.” Edmund started walking again, gently steering her with him. “Instead, we are going to dance far too many dances together, and we’ll spend so much time with each other that no one will question that I’ve lost my head over the ethereal elven princess.”

Jalissa sighed, trying to regain her composure. “And I suppose you’ll keep whispering sweet nothings in my ear the entire time?”

“Actually, I was thinking we would play a game.” Edmund’s smile widened to a grin that glinted in his eyes. He tilted his head toward the gathered groups of Escarlish men in top hats and tailcoats and Escarlish women in large, poofy dresses. “We’ll pick out details of those around us and try to make educated guesses about what those details tell us. It will be good practice for judging the character of your elf lords when they arrive.”

As he spoke, he swept two glasses off the tray of a passing servant, holding one out to her.

Jalissa took the punch and sipped it to give herself a moment to study Edmund. Her stomach flipflopped at the mention of those elf lords. She was doing her best not to think about having to pick one. “I still do not understand why you wish to teach me how to be a spy.”

“You would make a good spy.” Edmund gave a hint of a shrug that seemed more an elven gesture than a human one. “I am your friend, whatever else has gone between us. If I can help you find more of a purpose, I will.”

Purpose. Jalissa stilled. Edmund knew her far too well. Probably those annoying spy skills of his that gave him uncanny powers of observation.

Because she had only told one person about her longing for purpose. And that person had been dead for three years now.

Trying not to show how shaken she felt, Jalissa sipped her punch again and turned to face the rest of the ballroom just as a stir spread through the couples.

King Averett entered with his wife Queen Paige on his arm. Behind him, Prince Julien entered, followed by Farrendel and Essie. A group of Parliament members waylaid them, causing Farrendel’s set expression to turn into that hard, Laesornysh look of his.