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“Come here, my boy, come here!” the king interrupted Jaren, yanking him into a tight, one-armed embrace, the other stretched out to avoid spilling his wine. When he pulled back again, Kiva noted the glazed look in his eyes, along with the ruddy, sweat-damp tinge to his features.

The king was drunk. Or high. Possibly both. But he wasn’t slurring, indicating he’d had plenty of experience at keeping court in such a condition.

“What a fine young man you’ve grown into,” Sibley said, patting the uncomfortable-looking Jaren on the chest. He leaned in and added, “You know, half of my daughters are still —”

“Sibley, always an experience to see you,” Caldon cut in, saving his cousin.

The king turned to Caldon, but as he did so, he noticed the others in the room, his attention shifting curiously from Naari to Tipp, before coming to land on Kiva. He looked her over slowly, licking his lips, until Jaren pointedly cleared his throat. Sibley then hurriedly moved his gaze to Cresta, eyeing her body in a similar manner, though quicker, before his gaze rose to her face and arrested there.

There was no doubting that Cresta was beautiful, but in a fierce, intimidating way. Her serpent tattoo was enough to warn would-be suitors that they would have their hands full with her. But Sibley didn’t seem to get that message, since he continued staring.

Placing her hands on her hips, Cresta drawled, “See something you like?”

The king came back to himself then, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I apologize. I thought you were someone else — someone dead.”

Cresta arched an eyebrow. “Do I look dead to you?”

The king laughed it off and waved a hand in the air, nearly spilling his wine. “Forget I said anything. She was just a child, anyway. And you’redefinitelynot.” He looked her over again, his eyes lingering on places that had Caldon uttering a warning growl.

The king finally became aware of the mood in the room and quickly looked behind him to where a hunched man lingered awkwardly in the doorway. “Send for drinks, Tanton. My friends and I will celebrate as we catch up.”

Kiva wondered if he’d heard rumors about the takeover in Evalon, but then remembered what Jaren had said about Sibley barely knowing what was happening in his own city. At least that was one conversation they wouldn’t have to endure in their “catch up.”

“Actually, Sibley, this isn’t a social call,” Jaren said. “We’re here for Sarana’s ring. The one she entrusted to your ancestor years ago.”

The king visibly stilled, before raising his goblet and taking a large gulp. Then another. Before draining all that remained.

“My coffers are full of trinkets, dear boy,” Sibley said genially. “I have troves of jewels — necklaces and bracelets and diadems. Swords and daggers and weapons of infinite value. I’m sure we can find something you’d like more than a dusty old ring.”

Kiva tensed, her earlier feeling returning at the panicky look on the king’s face.

He mopped the sweat from his brow and grinned widely at them, swaying slightly as he added, “I can have my steward escort you there straightaway and you can take a piece of your choosing. All of you. Gifts to celebrate our friendship. And then we’ll dine and drink together afterward. I’ll have the finest of entertainment brought in so we can enjoy —”

“Sibley,” Jaren interrupted the king’s rambling, his voice brimming with command, “where is Sarana’s ring?”

The Hadris monarch lifted his goblet again, grimacing when hefound it empty. Only then did he sigh and reluctantly admit, “I don’t have it.”

Caldon swore and demanded, “Who does?”

“I need more wine. Would you like some wine? You, boy” — Sibley pointed to Tipp — “you look like you could use some wine.”

Tipp started. “Um —”

“He’s eleven,” Kiva said flatly. She ignored Tipp’s quiet mumble that he’d be twelve soon, and went on, “He doesn’t want any wine. Now answer the question.”

The king turned to her, his jowls wobbling as he offered what he thought was a charming grin. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I’m always looking for new treasures to join my harem. I can already tell you’d be a favorite of —” He stopped abruptly when Jaren moved a threatening step forward.

In a low, dangerous voice, the prince asked, “Where is the ring, Sibley?”

Whatever the king saw in Jaren’s expression had him mopping his brow again, even more desperately. But he answered, “I gave it to a woman named Zofia Sage.”

Naari, Caldon, and Jaren all spoke at once, with one asking, “Why?” the other, “When?” and the last, “Where is she?”

Flustered now, the king said, “I invited her here to read my fortune — she’s a Mystican, you see. A damn fine one, and very rare. But she wouldn’t take gold as payment, only that ring. It’s been hundreds of years without anyone from your family coming to claim it — how was I supposed to know you’d show up in my lifetime?” He made aharrumphsound, as if he were horribly put out.

“How do we find her?” Jaren asked.

“She has a store in the Midnight Markets,” Sibley said, causing Caldon to swear again, with Naari, surprisingly, doing the same. “But bewarned, she won’t just hand the ring over. You’ll have to pay — and not in gold. I strongly suggest you take up my offer to visit my troves instead.”