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Remy had only ever known fae as males or females. The fae were not men and women like the witches and humans—they were different creatures. But the heir was neither male nor female, neither prince nor princess, and it left Remy feeling on the back foot at what she should say to Neelo, fearful that she would offend them.

Everyone else seemed so at ease with what to say and do. Remy felt a rising tide of shame that she had never considered a person like Neelo before. She had met feminine men and masculine women, like Bri . . . but she had met no one who existed outside of that dynamic entirely, like Neelo. Remy grimaced. Maybe she had and didn’t even realize.

“Thank you for meeting with us. You know how I love the food here,” Hale said. He looked over his shoulder to a waiter and mimed a drink. That seemed to be enough information as the waiter scurried away.

“I was required to conduct another outing this week,” Neelo said, tracing the gold embossing of a serpent on the cover of their book. “My mother will be pleased.”

“Still making you show yourself about town?” Hale asked with a chuckle.

“It’s getting worse now that I’m of eligible age.” Neelo pushed their jaw to the side. Remy looked over the Heir of Saxbridge. They must be eighteen. Something about them seemed much older and much younger at the same time.

The Queen of the Southern Court and her heir subverted the traditional parent-child relationship. The Queen was a wild reveler, and Neelo seemed levelheaded and quiet. She had heard so many wild stories about the Southern Court Queen. Remy wondered what it must be like to be the child of an oversexed Queen who bragged about her parties and orgies around a dinner table. What expectations did that put on an introverted child?

“What other debauchery has your mother scheduled for you this season?” Hale asked, like he did not care, but everyone around the table listened more intently.

“Ugh, everything is a game to her. She’s arranged duels where the winner gets to promenade with me around the gardens, an archery tournament I must attend, and, oh, there’s this card game tomorrow night.” Neelo frowned. “Mother has long been in possession of a High Mountain ring.”

“The Shil-de ring?” Hale mused.

Neelo leveled him with a look and said, “Yes.”

“Why would Queen Emberspear not wear it herself?” Remy asked. All eyes turned to her, and she instantly regretted speaking. It was not their goal to convince the queen to keep the ring.

“Because it would take all the fun out of her revels if she knew the games of fire spinning and poison drinking could not harm her,” Carys cut in with an annoyed tone.

“I’ve missed you Carys.” Neelo laughed morosely. Carys winked at Neelo. So the two of them knew each other too. Carys didn’t look like a Southern Court fae, but, now that Remy thought about it, the fae warrior had a hint of a Southern lilt. Her words always seemed to go up at the end of her sentences. Remy spoke all the three languages of Okrith: Ific, the common tongue, Mhenbic, the witch’s language, and Yexshiri, the native tongue of the High Mountain Court. “So she’s gambling away a priceless talisman for fun?” Remy furrowed her brow. All the eyes looked at her again. She should really stop talking. It was their goal to get this ring after all.

“You mean rather than give it to her only child?” Neelo’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yes. The Queen doesn’t think to the future or to whoever might possess the ring if it leaves the Southern Court.” Neelo looked to Hale again. “I know you’re terrible with cards, but you’re welcome to come.”

Yes. An invitation.

“You know I’m always up for a bit of fun.” Hale gave Neelo that charming smile of his. It did nothing to Neelo’s gloomy facial expression. Remy liked that. The prince’s charms did not work on the Heir of Saxbridge. It was nice to see him knocked down a peg.

“It’s at nine o’clock at the Crownwood Parlor in Ruttmore,” Neelo said. “Come if you like.”

The edge of the promenade led right under the café balcony. People lingered along it to gawk at them. The two heirs to the different thrones were far more fascinating than the gardens. Neelo looked to the group with a stony, tight face but bowed their head. The flustered group responded with flourished, deep bows to the heir. This was part of the royal world: bowing, simpering onlookers.

A server arrived with a tray of steaming hot coffees in painted ceramic teacups. They placed a miniature mug before Remy. She looked at the thick black liquid inside. It smelled nutty and spicy, unlike anything she had smelled before. She looked around the table as the fae all picked up their delicate cups and began sipping. No one added cream or sugar like they did with tea, Remy noted. What was this strange elixir they called coffee?

She lifted her cup and took the smallest sip. Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. The strong, bold flavor blasted over her tongue and down her throat. Bri chuckled at her as she took another sip. Remy wished they drank their coffee with cream and sugar to cover the bitterness. A pleasant warmth spread through her body though, along with an electrical current of sudden energy. She took another sip of the bold, revitalizing drink, its flavor more pleasant on the second try.

Another server arrived and laid out a huge tray that ran the length of their table. A selection of breads and crackers ringed the edges of the tray while the middle held an assortment of dented copper bowls.

Talhan pointed to the bright red sauce in the center. “Careful with that one,” he said to Remy with a wink.

The Twin Eagles descended on the tray, grabbing crispy round crackers to scoop up food from the bowl of yellow potato and beans.

Remy grabbed a triangle of soft, buttery bread and dipped it in a warm, thick mixture. She took a tentative bite. A spicy explosion of ginger, cumin, and chilies burst into her mouth. Remy had to force down the indecent noises she wanted to make. It tasted that good. These green witches may seem passive, but their magic was as powerful as any other. Remy felt like she was floating outside her body—the flavors dancing on her tongue pulled her into the clouds better than any alcohol she had ever drunk.

“Good, right?” Talhan said through a greedy mouthful of food.

Remy hummed happily as she bobbed her head and reached for another cracker.

* * *

They sat eating and sipping coffee, delighting in the sunny splendor of the Southern Court for several hours. Plenty of time to get them noticed by all the highborn fae in the capital city. By the time a tray of little powdered cakes appeared in front of them, the sun was setting behind the garden’s distant palm trees. The sky was pink and orange, as if even the sun painted with more colors in the Southern Court.

A string quartet had set up on the grass near the café, ready to entertain the evening crowds. The lively music mixed with the decadent food and balmy evening air. Remy felt even more overcome by the melodies as the coffee switched to honeyed wine. Her entire body felt like it was vibrating, every sense in her stretched to its fullest. She would never forget this moment in the Southern Court.