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I hated them. Humans had killed my brother. Perhaps humans from this very village. I knew now that Roksana’s forces had come through the mountain rift, the same one we’d just passed through. Whether they knew it or not, these humans had given my brother’s murderers succor. They’d served them ale and bread, provided warm beds for them to sleep in.

But when I looked at those strange, desperate faces… it wasn’t hatred that crept into my veins. At least, not only hatred. There was also pity.

But if they tried to touch me again, I’d stab first and pity later.

“Do as he says,” a disembodied voice said, cutting through the crowd of humans.

They fell away instantly, stepping farther back into the protective shadow of the ring of stones. All except for one—a tiny woman, hair nearly as white as mine. She hardly looked real.

Deep wrinkles lined her eyes and mouth. Her whole face seemed to be made up of them. I thought at first she was hunched over, but as she stepped between the others and broached the gap of space between us, her footfalls were steady and strong. She actuallywasthat tiny. Smaller than Cyara. Shorter even than Maisri, a child of twelve.

I was gawking. It was rude. Very unqueenly, I could almost hear Arran admonishing.

But I’d never seen someone who looked… old.

Arran, as usual and despite the fact that he was a battle commander and not a politician, handled things better than I did.

“Who are you?” he said, lowering his axe to his waist. A gesture of peace. Though I knew he could kill just as effectively no matter where he held his weapon.

The crone’s eyes marked each member of our party, landing on Arran. I didn’t need to wonder why she singled him out. He was terrifying to fae. To humans… I was surprised they hadn’t all voided their bowels at the sight of him.

“I am called Sylva,” she said, dipping her head in a brief bow. “I sit on the Council of Elders for the town of Eldermist. We welcome you to our realm…” A long look at the humans huddling together, watching our interaction. “Perhaps too emphatically.”

“We did not expect such an emphatic welcome,” Arran said. He was still scowling, his face belying his diplomatic words.

“We did not expect a welcome at all,” I said sharply.Didn’t want one. I bit back the words.

If Arran could manage to leash his beast, so could I.

The crone called Sylva shifted her gaze from Arran back to me. Her eyes flashed—recognition. I’d lived in the elemental court long enough to read expressions, especially those that were not well guarded. While she did better than the rest of the humans around her, she had nothing on the elemental courtiers I’d been surrounded with for my entire life.

“That is reasonable,” she said. “Our races have lived separately for thousands of years.”

“And with good reason.” Diplomacy be damned.

But she didn’t take the bait. Instead, she looked to the other humans. “Go, back about your business. I will see about our guests.”

I didn’t wait for their retreat. “We are not staying.”

I wanted them all to know it. I wanted them to be afraid.

But Sylva merely shrugged. “I shouldn’t think so. I doubt our little town means much to you at all, Your Majesty. But you are here—and we have things to discuss which would be better said indoors.”

* * *

Arran took up a position at my side, Lyrena at my flank. Osheen brought up the rear with Cyara and Maisri in tow. They must have discussed it.

More likely, Arran ordered it.

An explosion of power in the throne room and he was still determined to protect me.

Because of that explosion of power.

I’d seen that glint of worry in his eyes. He ought to know better by now. I was more than capable of protecting myself.

Whispers followed us as we walked through the town. It took every bit of my concentration to drown them out. I didn’t want to hear what the humans thought of me, of us.

But I couldn’t miss Arran’s voice—low enough so the woman leading us could not hear.