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Dani, Terin, Medenia, Ellie, and Moris stared at him, but they said nothing.

Graeson shook his head, huffing. He swung the door open, not bothering to wait for a response. If they wanted to doom the rest of the seven kingdoms, that was on them. He slammed the door shut behind him, but he didn’t hear it crash against the frame.

“Go away,” he growled.

“I don’t think so, grumpy,” Ellie said, catching up to him.

From the corner of his eye, Graeson peered at Ellie. He didn’t want the company, but while many things about the Tetrian warrior had changed over the past three years, he knew one thing hadn’t. Ellie would always do what she wanted.

* * *

The empty jugslammed against the tabletop.

“Another?” the barkeeper asked.

“Yes, but this is the last one,” Ellie said, a devilish smirk across her face. A few thin braids framed her face, the rest of her white hair wild.

“We will see about that,” the barkeeper said, winking.

Graeson snarled beneath the hood of his cloak and watched the barkeeper walk back to the bar.

The walk to the tavern from the guest house was short. The night was still early enough for plenty of people to be out, their stomachs filled with piss-poor ale and wine. The last time Graeson had visited a tavern was before Kalisandre’s choosing ceremony with Dani and Moris. The three of them were so full of hope that night. They hadn’t known Kalisandre would be there that night, but when Graeson saw her, he recognized her immediately. He would recognize those blue eyes anywhere.

What he would do to have even half of that hope back.

“Oh, enough of that, you grump. He’s just flirting. No harm in that,” Ellie said, slapping him on the arm and bringing him back to the present. Then, Ellie gasped. “That’s why you’re all wound up.”

“What?” His nose twitched, and he dropped his gaze, taking a slug of the ale.

Ellie gave him a knowing smile and wiggled her brows. “You were gone a long time, Gray. Your hair was a mess.” She took a long sip of her ale. “As if someone was running their hands through it. Your neck has a new knick on it.”

Graeson brushed a hand across his neck. He scratched at a bead of dried blood.

“What? Did you two have a little argument?” Ellie leaned over the table. “Did you at least make up afterward?”

Graeson snarled.

Ellie sat back in her chair, laughing. She took a swig and wiped the dribble of ale from her mouth with the back of her hand. “Of course not, because you wouldn’t be here with me if you had.”

Graeson was about to respond, but the barkeep approached with a jug of ale. Ellie reached for it, but the man pulled it back, just out of her reach. “What do I get for it?”

“If you’re lucky, a copper.” Ellie twirled the butter knife between two fingers and cocked her head. “But if you’re unlucky . . .”

The man raised his hands in defense. “By the gods, lady. Can’t a man have some fun?” he said, setting the jug on the table. He nudged Graeson in the shoulder with his elbow. “No wonder you’re in a shit mood. Not all beauties are worth it, pal. Take it from me.”

A feral noise vibrated in Graeson’s throat, the edges of his vision turning red as he glared at the man from the edge of the cloak.

“If I were you,” Ellie said with a saccharine smile, “I would walk away. If you think he’s in a bad mood now, you don’t want to see him in a minute if you touch him again.”

The man’s gaze flicked back and forth between them. “One fight breaks out in my tavern, and the both of you are out of here.”

As the barkeep turned on his heel, he mumbled under his breath, “Weddings make people fucking crazy, I’ll tell ya. Freakin’ out-of-towners, no doubt.”

The music swept across the tavern as a fiddler, a lutist, and a drummer played song after song upon the small raised platform. Loud chatter and dancing surrounded them.

“I told you this once already,” Ellie said, leaning forward. “You need to be prepared for her to deny you.”

Graeson grunted.