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Rissa then rummaged inside each of her dozen coffers, until she’d found everything she was looking for: the clothes she used to train in as a girl—simple ranger gear, in browns and dark greens. They’d be ideal for her travels up north. She was glad that nostalgia—and fear that the chambermaids would finally throw them out—had pushed her to take them with her.

She stuffed whatever items looked useful to her in her red leather bag, pointedly ignoring Rydekar’s inspection of everything she owned. He touched her goblets, her silverware, her jewels, some of her gowns, walking around the treehouse like he belonged there. Like her haven was his domain.

Rissa made an inventory of her findings. A book detailing the use of wild plants, several elemental stones that came in handy for most spells, a healing salve, a filleting knife, a sewing kit, a pair of light velvet boots identical to the ones she was wearing. They were plain and flat, but spelled to keep her feet dry.

Looking around her circular room, she took in the hundreds of jewels, the few books she possessed, her journals—it had been years since she’d last written a word on them. None of it seemed useful to awakening a long-forgotten prince.

All her things would be here when she returned, waiting for her.

She swallowed a wave of nausea, ignoring the voice that whispered dark, forbidding notions. Of course she’d come back. She wasn’t the first fae who’d ever traveled to the Wilderness. Her own father had wandered it several times.

“I’m ready.”

Rydekar silently waved to the opening under a hatch, almost gallantly, inviting her to exit first.

He wasn’t about to offer his back to her again. She’d truly managed to alter his opinion of her.

She grinned, victorious.

Rissa climbed down faster than she’d ascended, now that she’d made it clear the pushy king couldn’t control her. She wasn’t surprised to see him jump down, landing in an elegant crouch after the twelve-foot drop.

“Show off,” she grumbled.

By the time she reached the ground, he was on his horse again, offering her his right hand to help her climb at his back, presumably.

Rissa stared at the extended palm in disbelief. He wore a ring that hadn’t been on his middle finger moments ago. “That’s mine,” she pointed out.

“Is it, now?”

It most certainly was. It was the ring he’d touched earlier; her latest creation. She’d made it with a pretty red stone she’d found on a trek, bending a piece of blackened volcanic metal she’d picked up on the Fiery Peaks. The ring was too big for her, and she hadn’t taken the time to adjust it. Now when she saw it, fitting perfectly on his finger, her stomach coiled uncomfortably. It looked like it belonged right there. Like it’d been madefor him.

It hadn’t. “Give it back.”

“Why should I? You took something from me without asking.Youshould remember I always take payments for the debts owed to me.”

That was payback for her retaliating against his imperiousness.Oh, the snake. She was too furious to say a single word.

“Are you walking, or riding with me?”

Wordlessly, Rissa walked away from him. When she reached the tanned warrior, she lifted a hand to him. He snorted, but helped her up his horse.

The giant laughed as they trotted to join the rest of Rydekar’s party, and Rissa couldn’t tell whether he laughedather or with her. “You’re going to be tons of fun, I can tell.” He glanced back at her. “Khalven Oberon.”

“Nicely met. Rissa.”

“I gathered, princess.”

She could feel a grimace forming on her face. She’d never liked that title. Princesses were pretty, doted upon, and weak.

“Rissa’s fine. You can leave the princess out.”

“Rye might have a thing or two to say about that. He’s a stickler for formality.”

“It’s rather fascinating that you seem to think I care about whatRyethinks.”

His deep chuckle made his back vibrate in front of her. “All right, then. Let us behave like old friends. You can call me Khal. I’m the general of Tenebris’s armies, and his highness’s cousin.”

That explained his familiarity with Rydekar. Rissa doubted many members of his court would have dared to make use of a nickname within earshot of the king.