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Galdric’s face fell, but he murmured his agreement.

Ashlyn turned to Torell and Cresta. “You go with them, too.”

Cresta’s eyes slitted. “You just want us out of the way.”

The princess didn’t deny it, and Cresta harrumphed in response. But Torell didn’t seem to mind being given a task. Or perhaps it was because the task had been given by Ashlyn. Kiva had watched the two generals interact over the last week, and despite Ashlyn’s initial distrust of her brother, something had shifted as Tor had continued to prove respectful and courteous. They sparred together every morning; they even rode beside each other for most of the day, every day, sometimes talking and laughing quietly, sometimes enjoying the silence of each other’s company. Kiva wasn’t sure if she was reading into something that wasn’t there, or whether it was even her business if itwasthere. Nor did she know if she should warn her brother away from Ashlyn — or warn Ashlyn away from her brother. Despite Caldon’s one-sided lust for Tor, Kiva had assumed her brother and Rhessinda had been on a path for something more than friendship... but given the way she sometimes caught Tor looking at Ashlyn, she wasn’t certain about anything anymore.

Since Kiva couldn’t even handle her own romantic life — or lack thereof — she knew better than to get involved in anyone else’s. Rightnow, she was just grateful that whatever was going on between Torell and Ashlyn meant he followed Eidran without debate as the spy nudged his horse away, with Cresta and Galdric trailing much more reluctantly behind them.

Once they were small figures disappearing beyond the sand dunes, Kiva and her remaining companions rode straight for the colossal arched entrance into Yirin, where beige-armored guards demanded that they halt and state their business. Upon learning who they were — and that three Evalonian royals were with them — an escort was provided, leading them all the way up to the palace.

By the time they reached their destination, Kiva’s eyes stung from how bright it was inside the city, with the sun bouncing off everything from the roads to the walls to the rooftops, turning it all gold and yellow and cream. Even the people were dressed in light-colored clothes, though most of them quickly scampered away when they caught sight of the guards.

The palace itself was awe-inspiring from up close, a twisted gathering of conical spires bordered by the largest statue-warriors Kiva had yet seen, their weapons raised as if in battle. Goose bumps pebbled on her flesh thanks to the nearest one, whose hateful eyes gave the illusion of following her.

“Cheery place,” Cresta murmured from Kiva’s side after they’d all dismounted and the royal servants had led their horses away.

“You’re from Mirraven,” Kiva murmured back. “You should be used to this kind of cheery.”

Cresta’s gaze turned inward, sweat glistening on her snake tattoo as she said, “It wasn’t always so terrible there.”

Kiva barely processed her reply, because while it had taken a few seconds, she blinked and realized —

“What are you doing here?” Ashlyn demanded, stealing the words from Kiva. “Why aren’t you with Eidran?”

Cresta shrugged. “I snuck away to follow you. This will be much more interesting.” She blew an obnoxious kiss at Ashlyn, who was now scowling at her, then winked at Caldon when he couldn’t hide his snort.

“You might want to reconsider antagonizing the people who can send you back to Zalindov when this is all over,” Kiva said dryly.

Cresta’s eyes lit with humor. “They wouldn’t dare.”

Before Kiva could reply with another warning, a group of servants dressed in pristine white tunics ushered them into the palace. Kiva felt filthy in comparison, her skin damp from the heat, her hair a straggly mess, and her outfit, once as white as theirs, now covered with travel dust. But she followed the example of her royal companions and held her head high as they walked past giant pillars and through shining arches until they reached a lavish, airy room. The ceiling was high above them, and where normally a wall would have stood, the space led out to a large balcony overlooking the yellow city, straight to the cliffside ocean in the distance.

Unnerved by the opulence, Kiva followed her friends up the gilded carpet runner, at the end of which was a pair of thrones shaped like scorpions, their stingers curled over and ready to strike. Reclining in the daunting seats were two men with sun-kissed skin who, like their servants, were wearing white, but their outfits glittered with richly detailed embroidery. Their faces were streaked with gold paint, and both had long black hair pulled back behind crowns made of —

Kiva swallowed as her group halted before the thrones, instinctively knowing the answer.

Bones — the crowns were made ofbones.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Naari nudge Tipp and Cresta, the three of them dropping into bows — Cresta’s so shallow that it was borderline offensive — and Kiva quickly followed suit. Jaren, Ashlyn, and Caldon remained upright, with Jaren stepping forward to address the kings.

“Thembi, Ryuu, thank you for welcoming us into your city on such short notice,” he said with a respectful nod to the brothers — twins, Kiva now realized, seeing that they were identical, though one had a beard and the other was clean-shaven. “It’s been far too long since we last saw each other.”

“Indeed it has, Deverick,” the bearded twin said, his accent thick, like honey trickling over sand. It was difficult for Kiva to determine their ages, but she guessed they were in their early forties, their eyes cunning and physiques muscled, indicating they didn’t just train warriors, but theywerewarriors. “We have to admit, your visit is a surprise, given the rumors that a new queen now rules your kingdom.”

Jaren didn’t so much as blink. “You should know better than to listen to rumors,” he said smoothly. “My father recently passed into the everworld, but my mother remains at the River Palace, with my sister merely assisting with her queenly duties during this time of mourning.”

Nothing he said was a lie, and yet, Kiva marveled at his ability to spin the truth — though his jaw did clench slightly when he mentioned Mirryn. Royal politics were beyond Kiva, but even she recognized the danger of giving the Jiirvan kings confirmation of the volatile situation in Evalon.

“That is a relief,” the clean-shaven king — Thembi — said. His voice quieted as he added, “Though Ryuu and I are very sorry to hear about Stellan. He was a good man.”

Jaren concealed the depth of his grief, and only said, “He was.”

Kiva hadn’t heard him speak about his father at all since Caldon had told her the news. She desperately wanted to reach for his hand, but even if they hadn’t been standing before foreign warrior-kings, she knew he wouldn’t be receptive to her compassion. Or to her touch.

“Please forgive our intrusion,” Ashlyn said, stepping up beside Jaren. “We would have sent a messenger, but since we were already en route and don’t intend to stay long, it was quicker to arrive unannounced.”

Ryuu brushed aside her words. “Jiirva has always been a friend to Evalon. What brings you to our golden city?” His gaze flicked beyond the Vallentis royals to where Naari, Cresta, Tipp, and Kiva stood. “And who are your friends?”