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“Ah, when you pretended to be a Rave.”

“I was a Rave youth. Same thing.”

I snorted and pecked his lips. “Not even close, Whisper.”

Strapped with our weapons, we returned to the hall in time to witness warriors bidding farewell to their families who’d traveled with them, to the royals doing much the same with much more somber little faces than moments ago.

Mira cried into Saga’s stomach, while she clung to Ari’s hand, linking the three of them together. A few ladies from the blood court and serpent court were there to attend the little princess. Along with two watchers from Cuyler’s men.

Gorm stood beside his son. They both dipped their heads when I approached.

“Gorm,” I said. “You ought to know, Cuyler has done every irritating duty to impeccable standards. You ought to be proud.”

Lord Gorm was not an expressive fae, but his mouth quirked in a small grin. “Then I shall be, My Lady.”

“Also, I’ve demanded the use of My Lady be dropped from all languages.”

“It is a title that came with the blood in your veins,” Gorm said plainly. “Like your blood cannot be drained, a title of royal cannot be dropped unless you are ousted. I have no plans to oust you, so the title remains.”

“Then as a royal, I alter the rule.”

“You cannot declare a change to a rule, My Lady. It takes discussion and counsel, and I will once more remind you—the title is made by your blood. I have no intentions of draining your veins, so alas, the title remains.”

“I’ve made it a rule, and it’s done. Titles are finished.”

Gorm sniffed around me, then shook his head. “Your blood has not changed. You remain, My Lady.”

I rolled my eyes and looked to Cuyler. “I gave it a good try.”

Silas followed close behind as we made our way to the others. Livia fought to keep her chin from quivering as Valen kissed her cheek and Elise pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Sander was mid-promise to Kase and Malin that he would keep watch on the others and keep them away from windows. Jonas, the boy of mischief, was also one who felt a great deal. He’d turned away from his family, face pointed at the ground, greatly interested in the knife he kept spinning.

I held my breath when Silas paused, then turned to the boy. What was he doing?

Slowly, Silas knelt. “Boy.”

Jonas lifted his bright eyes. “Wraith. That’s what Daj calls you.”

“You can call me that,” said Silas. “You do not bid your mother and father farewell?”

Jonas’s mouth pinched. He shook his head.

“Why?”

“Because.”

My heart cinched at the subtle croak in his small voice.

“It’s hard to say goodbye,” Silas said, voice soft. Almost uncertain. It was as though, all at once, he realized he was speaking, and the discomfort of interacting with others was taking hold. “Sometimes it feels like there may not be another hello.”

Jonas blinked rapidly, then slowly nodded.

By now, Kase and Malin were watching, listening. Malin pressed a hand to her heart. Kase’s eyes were shadowed. The slippery Nightrender thought we hadn’t figured out that meant he wanted to hide.

Silas held out the dagger he’d taken from the alcove. “This was given to me by a man I greatly respected when I was no bigger than you. He often left to fight battles, and he told me when he left, there would always be another hello. Even if it takes place in the Otherworld, he would be there waiting to say hello. No one who leaves through that door today will ever truly leave.”

A tear dripped onto Jonas’s cheek.