Warm heat cocooned me, and I snuggled closer to the source. My Phaetyn mojo must've kicked in overnight because my muscles were relaxed and my mind clear. I had a dream about being chased by Druman shortly after falling asleep, which nearly made me physically sick, but after my heart settled again, the rest of the night I’d slept amazing. I felt kind of great, considering yesterday involved slashing my hand open and dripping blood into a Drae’s open wound. Tyrrik’s arm fell to my side, and I snuggled closer.

Wait a minute.

My drowsiness disappeared in a flash, and my eyes popped open. Drak.

Maybe my mind wasn't so clear.

I looked across at the other bed, but it was empty. Dyter had folded his blanket and fluffed the pillow before leaving. I’d gone to sleep on the floor; that was a definite. I’d taken Tyrrik’s blanket, folded it up for a pillow, and fallen asleep on the ground.

Not in bed with Tyrrik.

Holy potato-stuffed pancakes.

The Drae mumbled in his sleep, his mouth against the nape of my neck, and his arms circled my waist, pulling me against him. My heart thumped and then began a race as if to pound out of my chest. Clearly my conscious and subconscious mind were not on the same page.

I lay tense, and the queen’s words from yesterday echoed in my mind. Did I truly think the world wasn’t worth saving because of a few people?

I'd always believed the workings of the world and its people were black and white, yet black and white were merely far ends of a spectrum. Between them resided a bajillion shades of gray.

Everything was gray. Choice, people, beliefs.

My thoughts turned to the Drae behind me. Tyrrik was . . . I hated thinking about what Tyrrik was. Was my avoidance of exploring that a refusal to acknowledge the truth? That there may be grays involved in what he’d done. Was it fear? Of admitting his choice had been an impossible one and fear of how that admission would change my life? Was that why I didn’t want to help fight the emperor and why I’d gone to sleep on the floor last night? Was I too scared, too ruined, too broken to do anything but deny where my life was headed?

I pulled Tyrrik’s arm up and scooted to the edge of the bed, gently placing his arm back at his side. He mumbled again, his forehead creasing into a furrow that smoothed as soon as I tentatively reached out and touched it.

Yeah. This was next level stuff. The guy stopped frowning when I touched him. Don’t panic; it’s probably nothing. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Whatever this was would have to wait.

I went to the washroom and allowed myself a muffled squeal of delight when I saw the large tub filled with water. Nearby was a smaller basin of water, and by that sat a pile of unbleached folded material. I shook out the top piece to find a baggy forest-green tunic made of soft wool. The garment wasn't nearly as nice as the silvery threads the Phaetyn wore, but it was clean.

I stripped out of my torn and bloody clothing, a little disturbed I’d slept in all that essence of Tyrrik, and slipped into the tub.

Once dressed, I rifled through my drawstring bag back in the bedroom and found the water skin. It was completely flat, and when I opened the cork, not a drop of nectar remained.

I returned to the restroom and emptied part of the basin of crystal clear water into the flagon, and then I stuck my index finger into the fluid. My thoughts turned to Tyrrik again, to how I wanted him whole. I wanted him healed so I could pester him with questions about the Phaetyn, and why Queen Alani knew about the emperor’s experiments, and how the heck we could get out of here without escalating the tension. Mostly, I wanted Tyrrik healed so he wasn’t vulnerable. I wouldn’t be able to stay with him all the time, and I didn’t trust the Phaetyn when things here were so volatile. Tyrrik was always so decisive, and he knew more about the Phaetyn than Dyter and I combined.

With each thought regarding Tyrrik’s healing came a deeper understanding; while I might still question Tyrrik’s motives for many things, clearly I relied on him in some ways.

I returned to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed where the Drae still slept. My insides churned, despite his smooth expression and even breathing. He appeared almost peaceful right now. His face was unlined with the tension it normally carried. Gone was the haunted look in his eyes, the self-deprecating smile, and his occasional furrow of worry. His chest rose and fell with even breaths. The pallor of his skin had waned during the night. Was that because I’d slept next to him?

I debated leaving him to continue sleeping, but the previous empty water skin in my hand was enough of a reminder that he’d had nothing of sustenance since our arrival at the heart of Zivost. I rested my hand on his chest, shaking him gently at first, and then not so gently when that didn’t work.

He caught my hand with his, but as soon as he opened his eyes, his fierce expression melted into a look of drowsy peace.

“You need some nectar,” I said in a voice still rough from sleep.

He rose to his elbows and allowed me to tip the flagon to his lips. He drank and drank and drank, and as he continued to guzzle, my eyes widened, even though I accommodated his thirst by tipping the water skin up.

Once he'd drained the contents, he reclined and muttered, “Thank you.”

His gratitude clenched my heart, and I cleared my throat, pushing back the emotions lodged there. With a nonchalant shrug, I said, “No problem.”

Apparently gratitude from others wasn't so easy to take either. Belatedly, I realized I was still touching his chest, and I blushed as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“How long have we been here?”

“A day,” I said. “And one night.”

“A whole day and night?” He frowned.

“Yes, is that not normal?”

He blinked, his eyelids heavy. “Never been this injured. Unsure.”

I nodded. “Tyrrik, the Phaetyn have . . . problems.” I thought of how I could sum up what I had learned thus far, but before I could say anything else, Tyrrik squeezed my hand.

“Be careful, Khosana,” he whispered. “Remember what you learned in Irdelron’s castle. Everyone has an agenda.”

His words slapped me, and I pulled my hand back. “Okay.”

The grip of his hand loosened as sleep claimed him.

I returned to the washroom and filled the water skin again. After making nectar and leaving it next to Lord Tyrrik, I took note of my weary body and decided finding sustenance would be wise.

I exited the room, meeting the hardened gazes of the two soldiers in the hall with a glare of my own. “Listen, I don't really care what Kamoi said to you. I don't care if his threats are meaningful to you or not. I’m telling you, if anything happens to the man in there, you will wish Kamoi had gotten to you first. Because you, and everyone you ever thought you might have the possibility of caring about, will be destroyed. I’m Drae, and I will chew on your family and spit them out.”

The two Phaetyn blanched, and the one on the right swallowed repeatedly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his neck.

"Are we clear?" I asked.

Both guards nodded, but that wasn't enough. I didn’t want them to simply humor me; they needed to know to cross me on this was a life and death decision. My heightened emotions, worry over Tyrrik’s state as well as the obvious hostility we’d walked into, allowed my Drae to peek out. My eyes shifted Drae, and scales climbed up my neck and down my exposed arms. In a voice more Drae than human, I growled, “Are we clear?”

The female Phaetyn inclined her head.

They straightened and chorused, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

What the hay?

I heard the tread of footsteps and glanced down the hall, spotting Kamoi's friendly smile and glowing eyes as he neared.

“Ryn, come,” he said, waving me toward him. “Have you eaten?” When I shook my head, he passed me a plate containing slices of yellow fruit. “Here, it’s mango, a sweet fruit.” He watched as I bit into a slice and then asked, “Will you allow me the pleasure of showing you Zivost?”

Perfect. I actually did want to explore and get a better sense of what I’d dropped into. I swallowed my mouthful and said, “Yes.” Picking up another slice of the yellow fruit, I added, “This is delicious.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

I grabbed the remaining slices off the plate and handed it to one of the guards.

Kamoi led me out of the quartz house. There were more guards outside the house than when we arrived yesterday. Several were constructing a railing around the queen’s ash tree while more set up long tables around it.

“They are getting ready for a welcome party,” he said in his lilting voice.

I smiled because I knew it was expected, but I wasn’t sure I wanted a party. I wasn’t sure I didn’t either. Not that it mattered what I wanted. As soon as we stepped off the elevated porch, I halted as every thought but one fled my mind. “Just a sec.” I bent over to pull off my soft boots with my free hand. As my bare feet touched the ground, I sighed. “I knew this would be amazing. It's almost like the energy radiates from the soil?”

Kamoi smiled. “It actually does.”

He closed the small gap between us and took my free hand in his. I shivered at the contact. The Phaetyn mojo we had going on was pretty strong; deniable but strong. Before I could withdraw my hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm and, with a slight tug, indicated we go.

Al’righty then.

I let him lead me through the forest, chewing on the fruit slices. Kamoi explained how the different affinities to plants and animals manifested during childhood and how some developed more powers as they aged. He spoke of the lineage of royalty and the expanded powers those Phaetyn were blessed with. He told me of the peace they had enjoyed for centuries until the Drae and Kings began murdering his people for their healing blood.

“I can’t imagine how that felt,” I said softly. “For the people you’d fed for eons to turn on you.”

His face darkened, and he stared into the trees for a long moment before giving me a small smile. “Our lives are not all bad, you know. Did you know that each Phaetyn has a tree? The soul of the tree and the soul of the Phaetyn are one.”

“So do I have a tree?” Would I be able to see some things of my life? Would I be able to see my mother as clearly as I had Queen Luna or Queen Alani?

“I don't know, Kealani,” he said and then amended with a blush, “Ryn. I meant Ryn.”

I was grateful he at least made an effort to respect my wishes. There was something about seeing a handsome man blush that had my stomach flipping.

“We know you have significant power. But I’m afraid your power may not be enough to win the Phaetyn’s loyalty.”

I blinked as his words registered. Was I trying to win the Phaetyn’s loyalty? I mean, the more the merrier as far as fighting the emperor was concerned. Their healing power would certainly come in useful. Regardless of fighting a war, they should’ve been helping the other kingdoms with growing food so people could eat. Tyrrik’s warning bounced around in my head, planting seeds of distrust. The prince had his own agenda. Tyrrik was right; everyone did. What was Kamoi’s? There was one way to find out. “Hey, can I see your tree?”

The prince tripped, stumbling forward, and I released his arm.

Two guards stepped out from behind the trees, and the closest cleared her throat.

“Your highness,” she said, violet eyes hardening when she met my gaze. She broke the contact and glided up to Kamoi. “Your mother has requested you return, immediately. The rebels have overrun the Circle of the Sacred Tree, and she needs you to lead the armies.”

The first elm tree I’d touched? My initial impression of the convenience of the guard’s interruption made me wince. Had that been a cover so Kamoi didn’t have to show me his tree? My chest sunk with shame at the thought. I shouldn’t be judging Kamoi so harshly. Maybe asking to see someone’s tree was a big Phaetyn no-no. How would I be if my people were at war? The Phaetyn rebellion wasn’t a convenience for anyone, and he was bound to be a little tense.

“Do you want me to come, too?” I asked. At the very least, I could go Drae and protect those who needed it.

Kamoi smiled at me and scooped my hand in his. Holding my hand gently, he raised it to his mouth and brushed his lips over the top. “You are filled with honor, Ryn. It’s one of your many gifts. There might come a time when your presence will help immensely, but for now, I’ll attend the queen and see what I can do to dissolve the tension.” He nodded at the male guard just inside the tree line. “Harlan, you will accompany Ryn wherever she goes. Do not let any harm come to her.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but Kamoi was only being protective. I guess I’d let him.

Kamoi and the female Phaetyn left. Harlan and I stared at each other.

“I’ll be fine. If you want to go back to the Pink House, that's totally okay with me.” Maybe he’d take the hint and leave me alone.

“I appreciate your kindness, Highness,” he said, the hardness of his features a direct contradiction to his words. “But, my loyalty lies with Kamoi. He has asked me to guard you. Unless someone else from the royal family tells me otherwise, I’ll be with you until you return to the Rose Castle.”

Flip my pancakes. Pink House, Rose Castle. Obviously my politicking skills needed work. And what did he mean that he was going to guard me? Was he protecting me from others or others from me?

I decided to ignore Harlan and stepped off the path into the trees. I scanned the trunks in front of me, chose the thickest one, and placed my hands upon it. Closing my eyes, I pushed away my thoughts of Kamoi, Tyrrik, and the Phaetyn conflict and asked the tree to share its memories with me.

“What the Drae are you doing?” a young girl asked.

I pulled my hands back from the trunk and turned around. Phew, just Kamini, Kamoi's younger sister.

The young girl was dressed in hemp fibers similar to what I wore, only hers fit as if they were made for her. Her tunic was more of a short dress with a ruffled hem at her knees. Her silver hair was plaited, and she’d pulled the long braid over her shoulder and played with the unbound ends.

“It's Kamini, right?” I asked, extending my hand in greeting.

The young girl looked at my hand, and her gaze chilled as she met mine. “Why are you here?”