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“I trust Bram to keep you out of trouble. Leif, on the other hand…”

“What about Leif?” Wren demanded, affronted. Was she supposed to be wary of her only friend? He’d been nothing but a gem for weeks.

Josenu laughed, then held his hands up in surrender. “I only meant to say he seems the type to lead you into trouble simply because it might be fun for the both of you., or if it will satisfy your curiosity over certain matters. He’s taken more of a liking to you than to anyone else in the rebellion. Just what did you say to him in the dungeons to appeal to him so much?”

Wren considered this. In truth, she hardly knew a thing about Leif, only that he was very capable of playing the part of a mad prisoner, and he had trusted Wren to save his life aboard the back of a fearsome dragon.

It bonded them.

He trusted her, so she trusted him. It was as simple as that.

Wren allowed a small smile to curl her lips.

Leifdidseem the type to lead Wren into a bit of trouble. That gleam in his eyes when he insisted on Wren coming with him to meet the merchant flashed through her mind. He was definitely prone to a bit of mischief. And he wasn’t nearly as serious as the rest of the rebellion.

Wren didn’t dislike it. Given her circumstances, she was tired of safe and serious. She needed someone to be reckless with. His outlook on life was refreshing, and a break from the turmoil that roiled in her head.

Clearly, some of Wren’s thoughts were obvious on her face, for Josenu took a step toward her, brows furrowing. “Don’t be foolish, Princess Wren. You know you must be careful. Don’t put everyone’s lives at risk just to prove that you are useful.”

That stung—because it was true.

Today she’d been reckless even if it had been an honorable decision. She didn’t have the luxury to stray from the path that had been set before her. Too many lives depended on the success of her missions.

With a sigh, Wren’s shoulders slumped. “I know. But this is all so stifling. Two months I’ve been with the rebellion, and if Bram had his way I’d be locked away, out of trouble. I basicallyamlocked away, for all the freedom I actually have.” Her family had never hidden her away in such a manner.

You also weren’t believed to be the heir to the throne.

“Don’t lose sight of what you’re doing,” Josenu said, trying to reassure her. “While the queen is away, King Soren is planning a party with his closest friends. He has brought women from the Dragon Isles as gifts for them.”

“What?” she whispered. Though the evening air was balmy, Wren’s skin suddenly became cold and clammy.

My people…slaves? For the Verlanti king?

She had to stop it. She had to—

“Wren.” Josenu spoke her name without her title, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing it as if it might stop her thoughts from spiraling.

When the devil had he moved from his spot?

She blinked repeatedly and tried to ground herself in the moment.

The elven spy squeezed her shoulder once again. “You need to be the woman who bided her time in the palace, collecting information and planning her escape, not a woman who is a hair-trigger away from doing something stupid. Keep your wits about you. Take a deep breath andfocus.”

He was right. She was panicking. It was a struggle to get air into her lungs, and when she tried to breathe it stung like a thousand needles. She became aware, then, that the mention of Soren and what he was doing to her people reminded Wren of her own enslavement, and the torture that had been inflicted upon her. She had thrown her memories of her experience into a box that she never planned to reopen, but even Wren knew she could only hold back the trauma for so long.

Maybe that is why you’re imagining Rowen?

“Deep breaths,” Josenu said again, voice calm and soothing. “You can do it. You need to be at the top of your game to meet this merchant tomorrow. Otherwise, I can’t do much to protect you.”

“I’ll hunt you,” Arrik’s voice echoed in her mind.

“Arrik…he…how is he doing?” Wren bit out. She had to know. Josenu blinked slowly and she went over her words and blanched. “I don’t want to know about his wellbeing but about his movements—his plans,” she growled.

His hunt of her and the rebellion had been relentless. Today—having to split the camp into three, thus weakening their forces—was further proof of his determination to find her.

Josenu hesitated. He let go of Wren’s shoulder as if suddenly remembering that she was a princess and he a guard, and stood a little straighter. She could glean no sense of what he was thinking from his face. What horrors was her husband subjecting the world to?

“He’s doing what he does best,” Josenu finally said—too carefully. “Taking care of what’s important.” A pointed stare at Wren. “He’s sent men into the Dragon Isles to prepare the palace for his arrival. His and yours.”