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“I had help.”

“Namely, me.” Emil rounded the horses.

Shaking my head, I handed the reins to a steward. “Setti? Is he here?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the young male answered. “Given nothing but the freshest hay and feed as he’s awaited your return.”

“Thank you.”

I turned to find Tawny standing not too far from me. Damn. Her eyes… They were leached of all color. “I’m glad to see you up and moving about.”

She eyed me as bluntly as I had done with her. “And I’m glad to see that according to everyone I’ve asked, you love Poppy just as fiercely as she loves you, and I don’t have to punch you for lying to her.”

Poppy whipped around. “Tawny.”

“And for kidnapping her,” she tacked on.

“Tawny.” Poppy hurried over to us as Netta laughed.

“What?” The mortal who felt like something else crossed her arms. “I’m just pointing out that everyone—”

“And she did ask everyone,” Emil chimed in.

“Said you were utterly devoted to Poppy,” Tawny finished.

“That is not what you’re pointing out,” Poppy countered.

Fighting a grin, I inclined my head. “If you feel as if you still need to punch me, I won’t stop you.”

Poppy shot me a look.

Her friend simply studied me as if she were attempting to determine if I was worthy of such effort. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

“No, you will not,” Poppy said. “You can’t go around punching the King.”

“Someone forgot to tell you that,” Kieran replied, brushing past Poppy.

“You punch him?” Tawny asked, blinking.

“No. Not really.” Poppy’s cheeks turned red.

“She has stabbed me, though.” I took Poppy’s hand. “In the chest.”

“Oh, my gods,” Poppy snapped as Tawny’s eyes went wide. “You really need to stop telling people that.”

“But I deserved it,” I added, my smile fading as I turned to the entrance and saw that Hisa had joined the generals. It was who walked with her that drew my attention, though. My father. Tension crept into my shoulders as I looked to see Malik dismounting several feet away. I turned to Naill and spoke, my voice low. “I want you and Emil to keep an eye on Malik.”

Naill nodded. “Done.”

Keeping Poppy’s hand in mine and Kieran at my side with Netta with Delano at hers, I started toward my father. Aware that Malik had fallen in step behind me, I braced myself for several rounds of awkward reunions.

I recognized the generals before me. Lizeth Damron stood next to Perry’s father, who sported a rather impressive beard. My stare fixed on Aylard, the general Poppy had warned me about, as they lowered to their knees.

“La’Sere remained at Three Rivers,” Netta informed us. “Murin at Whitebridge.”

“Have you had any issues with them?” Poppy asked as Tawny trailed behind Netta. “Aylard?”

“Nothing we haven’t been able to handle,” she shared as the generals rose and stepped aside.

My gaze locked with my father’s, and just like that, I froze, unable to go any farther. He came down a step. He looked older than I remembered—the lines at the corners of his eyes deeper, the brackets around his mouth now grooves. His armor creaked as he lowered himself to one knee, bowing.

“You may rise.” It was Poppy who gave the softly spoken order I’d once taught her since I, apparently, had forgotten how to fucking speak.

I still hadn’t moved as my father rose, his golden eyes never straying from mine. “Cas.”

At once, I was a small boy, years away from his Culling, shaken with the need to run and take his outstretched hand. But I was rooted to where I stood.

Poppy squeezed my hand, reminding me that we were not alone. Eyes were on us, many belonging to those who had no idea that their former King and Queen had known who the Blood Queen really was.

A tremor ran through me as I released Poppy’s hand and reached for my father’s. He clasped my arm, his eyes bright as he pulled me in for a tight embrace. I felt my father, who had always been larger than life and stronger than anyone I knew, shake. My eyes closed, and I shook, too. Anger crashed into love, and all I knew in that moment was that this wasn’t the time to demand answers from him. Accountability would come, but it was not the kind that required an audience. It was not the kind that needed to be owned when we were about to end this war with the Blood Crown.

“I didn’t want her to go,” my father said, his words muffled. “I demanded that she stay. She put me in my place really quick.”

A thick laugh rattled me. “I bet she did.”

“And I’m glad she did.” His embrace tightened, and then he said, even lower, “I know there’s a lot we need to discuss.”

“There is.” Swallowing, I stepped back, and Poppy’s hand was there when I reached for it. “But it will have to wait.”