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MELANTHA STOOD nextto Rharreth, her back straight, her head high, and tried to pretend her stomach was not churning. Her feet were planted on the soil of her homeland for the first time since she had betrayed it and her brother, and the only reason she and Rharreth had been allowed this far was the knife Rharreth held to Prince Edmund’s throat.

Across from them, four members of the patrol squad—two humans and two elves—brandished rifles and swords in their direction, barely twitching a muscle as they waited for their fifth member to fetch Weylind. A thick stand of spruces and pines filled the land behind the squad, obscuring everything but their small corner of land next to the gorge.

At Rharreth’s and Melantha’s backs, the Gulmorth River roared far below. Rharreth had collapsed the bridge he had created for him, Melantha, and Prince Edmund to cross. If this went badly, they had nowhere to run.

But Rharreth had not wanted anyone from Kostaria to be tempted to interfere, and Melantha was thankful for that caution. Things would get tense, but they would get more tense if a gang of overzealous trolls came charging out of the forest and across a bridge into Tarenhiel at the wrong moment.

Instead, Rharreth had sent Ezrec and his men to meet the army gathering at Argar Point. Ezrec had not been happy, and by the way the back of Melantha’s neck itched, it was likely a scout had been sent to keep an eye on the situation.

Prince Edmund gave a sigh and shifted. “Your claims of peace might be more believable if you didn’t have your knife to my throat. Is this really the first impression you want to make?”

“Why should I listen to you, spy?” Rharreth growled. Every muscle along his back and arms was tense and had been ever since they had crossed the Gulmorth Gorge and entered Tarenhiel.

Prince Edmund huffed another sigh. “Unauthorized royal visitor.”

Melantha was almost starting to like this human prince.

“Semantics doesn’t change the truth that Escarland—and likely Tarenhiel—didn’t exactly keep their claims of peace when they sent spies into my kingdom even after we signed a peace treaty.” Rharreth’s growl deepened, and his dark blue eyes flashed.

Melantha gripped his free arm and yanked hard. “Rharreth. Hush. Right now, we have bigger problems than one captured Escarlish spy.”

Rharreth shook his head, but some of the heat in his eyes cooled. “I’m still not removing the knife from his neck. As this is the only punishment he and Escarland are likely to get for his spying, I am not in a hurry to end it.”

That earned another eyeroll-huff from the Escarlish prince. “Glad to know you aren’t being petty or anything like that. After all, you honorable trolls are above that.”

“And you should hush as well.” Melantha poked the Escarlish prince in the shoulder. “Do not provoke either of us. You also have bigger things to worry about than protesting your treatment after being caught on an ‘unauthorized royal visit.’”

Prince Edmund snapped his mouth shut, though his eyes still held a twinkle as if he found the situation amusing.

Melantha felt heat building in her own chest, and she struggled to control it. Already she wanted to bash both Rharreth and Prince Edmund over the head, and her brother Weylind had not yet arrived to further add to the tension.

A rustle sounded in the trees behind the squad of elf and human soldiers, then more warriors poured from between the pines. Clicks sounded as human soldiers raised their muskets and cocked back the hammers. Movement higher in the trees showed where elves had climbed to the higher branches to get a better shot for their bows.

Melantha flexed her fingers and worked to keep her face blank. Her chest was so tight that she could not draw in a breath. It was the first time she would see her family again in three months, and the last time things had been stiff and strained. Was Weylind here? What about Farrendel? Could she make things right?

The line of human soldiers and elf warriors parted, and Weylind stepped through the opening, his face hard, his mouth pressed in a tight line.

He was followed by King Averett of Escarland. His gaze darted to his brother Prince Edmund, his hands bound and Rharreth’s knife at his throat. King Averett’s eyes flashed, and he clenched his fists.

Melantha had known starting this conversation off like this was probably a bad idea. But Rharreth was not about to be budged, not even by her.

Two more people pushed to stand beside Weylind and King Averett. Melantha’s breath hitched in her chest at the sight of Farrendel.

He looked well. Far, far healthier than the emaciated, tortured person he had been when she had last seen him. His hair had grown back to just brush the collar of his dark green tunic, and it was cut evenly. His shoulders relaxed, and he took a step forward as if he intended to run to her.

Weylind stopped him with an arm, saying something in a low voice.

Farrendel halted, his eyes darting from her to Rharreth and Prince Edmund. Next to him, Princess Elspetha gripped Farrendel’s arm as if also intending to hold him back. Her eyes were fixed on Prince Edmund, the color draining from her face even as her jaw hardened.

Letting his knife fall to his side, Rharreth gripped the back of Prince Edmund’s shirt and nearly picked him off his feet. “I believethisis yours.”

King Averett’s mouth twisted, as if torn between scowling and protesting.