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“Not ready enough, it seems.” Haster was looking at her with a mix of frustration and respect.

“No.” Erdene dipped her head to hide her smile of satisfaction. She lifted her chin and hardened her expression. “So have a little think about things, if you’re part of this conspiracy to undermine your new queen. So far, it isn’t going well, and we know about it now, so it’ll be even harder to run. Until we know more, until we can be sure which of you is working with us in good faith, the queen will keep her distance. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Lord Cynera, who still hasn’t come in to speak to us and explain, despite numerous requests.”

Erdene gave a formal bow, turned on her heel, and walked away.

Up on the ramparts, she caught sight of Raun-Tu, keeping watch over her, his bow resting lightly on the wall.

She gave him a tiny nod, and he returned it.

She expected she would get homesick for Venyatu soon, and they would eventually go home, when the deals with Ava, Luc, the Funabi and the Venyatu were finalized. But until then, she felt alive.

It was pleasant to be the victor, living in comfortable accommodation, no longer actively at war but still having to keep vigilant.

She was invigorated.

And if that thought brought Talika to mind, well, she was part of the game, wasn’t she?

They had managed to keep the whole city from realising that the queen had been taken.

It couldn’t last. But she could do nothing more than she already was doing to keep the secret.

She would have to trust Deni would find Ava. That she was unharmed.

And that she would be back in Fernwell soon.

Chapter 18

The Jatan had disappeared.

Luc dismounted and looked around at their empty campsite, evidence of a hasty departure everywhere, and wondered what Tuart was up to.

The Jatan general had forced himself and his small force on Luc. He’d insisted on riding in parallel to them, and then he’d disappeared in the night.

Vera, the scout who’d come to tell him their Jatan shadows had flitted away in the darkness, sat on her horse, her expression agitated.

“We should have noticed them leaving,” she said when he finally looked up at her.

Luc inclined his head. “Maybe. But we weren’t watching them in that way. They imposed themselves on us, so we had no suspicion they’d sneak off.”

Her lips thinned. “I was on watch. I’m sorry I missed it.”

He accepted her apology with a nod. “Anything stand out last night?”

She looked like she wanted to self-flagellate a little more, but stopped herself, looking toward the east, to Cervantes, as she thought about it.

Luc turned in the direction himself.

Along the edge of the clearing and up the side of the low foothills to their left, more than a few slender, white-trunked gimtali trees with their sage green leaves were studded amongst the pines and conifers.

The trees of Cervantes.

They were getting closer to home.

Luc knew he wasn’t the only one feeling a lifting of his spirits at the sight of them.

He’d hoped to bring Ava home after they settled things in Fernwell, to show her the beauty of it.

He missed her so much it was an ache deep in his bones.