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Alder wondered that too, but Evora had told him a story that had given him hope. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. We need his army if I am to have a chance at ripping Weald out of Massie’s sharp claws.”

Josephine stood quietly, but he didn’t dare look at her.

“And…how long will you be gone?” she asked.

She sounded concerned, and maybe even a little upset, which encouraged Alder where he hadn’t dared allow himself to be encouraged before.

“A week…maybe more. It all depends on how happy my uncle is to see me.” He’d also have to convince his uncle to pull fighters from the front lines, and only the Fates knew how long that could take, but he did not say this to Josephine.

“I want to come with you,” she said suddenly.

Alder looked at her then, into those brilliant sky-blues, and he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. “Not this time.”

Her eyes flashed with indignation. “Why not?”

He wanted to tell her yes. He could use her skill, and also the idea of being away from her for any extended period of time was not one he liked overmuch. Especially when one considered they had only two months before the curse destroyed this world.

He wished he could say Josephine’s interpretation was wrong, but he couldfeelit. In the air, in the trees, like a body decomposing.

“Your shoulder is the primary reason,” he replied. “It’s healing well, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“And your other reasons?”

“Well.” Alder pushed off the mantel and stood tall. “Yourelders would like your help with the coat.”

“I don’t see what I can do. I can’t even readbasicenchantments.”

“But if you’re given the translation of the enchantments they know, perhaps you can find a pattern they did not. Fresh perspective, and all. Regardless, Tyrin believes that you’re tied to the coat, as Abecka believed, and I can’t say I disagree. As much as I would like your skill at my side, I think it might be a better use of our time if you’re here, fighting the battle on this front. Especially since you’re still recovering.”

Josephine studied him a long moment while her rounded bosom rose and fell with a full breath, and it was all Alder could do to keep his gaze affixed to her face. This resolve was further challenged when she started fidgeting with the little moonstone ring that once again rested innocently between her breasts, mocking all his sensibilities.

“Do you have history with Celia?” Josephine asked unexpectedly.

She might as well have tossed cold water over him.

He went rigid, his tone careful as he said, “Why do you ask?”

Josephine moved her hand from the ring and tucked a clump of her hair behind her rounded ears. “Well. You say they aremyelders, and I can’t help but remember when I first met them. Celia didn’t appear thrilled by your return, and her issue with you seemed to stem from a…personal nature.”

Alder didn’t want to talk about this right now. Or ever.

Josephine still wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he was thankful for it, especially when she added, “If I am going to work with them or even consider staying after—and that isif,because I will be making sure my family is all right first—I would like to know if there are any…present complications between the people of Light and yours asyoustep into the roleyourmother left behind.”

The question was reasonable, if not insightful, dammit.

“Yes, I have history with Celia.” Alder ground out the words.

Josephine’s eyes met his. Those blues. So clear, so bright, blazing like the sun, shining with a fire that burned deep inside of her. A fire that kept drawing him nearer, though he’d tried so hard to stay away.

A fire that kept burning away all his impurities to get to the truth of him.

“What sort of history?” she asked.

Alder turned back to the hearth and raked a hand through his hair. Fates, hereallydid not want to talk about this. “We were betrothed.”

Josephine stilled beside him.

“My mother hoped to improve relations between our kingdoms, and to…settle my spirit,” Alder continued stiffly.