Dyter opened the door for me and proceeded to threaten the four guards in the hallway until I interrupted him. The Phaetyn looked familiar, but I dismissed it. They all wore those purple aketons, and with their long silver hair, a lot of them looked alike.

Dyter stopped menacing the soldiers and held his arm out, but when I just peered at him, he took my hand, like Kamoi had, and tucked it into the crook of his elbow.

I half turned to him, arching a brow.

“You’re a lady now,” Dyter said, red creeping up his neck. “You need to be treated as such.”

I laughed and snorted. “Right.”

He chuckled, and we walked through the quartz hallways to the front entrance. I’d already seen the rows of cushions and low tables out in the clearing by the queen’s dying ash tree, but Dyter hadn’t.

The old man whistled low. “How many are coming to this party?”

“I don’t even know how many Phaetyn there are.” There were at least two dozen long tables, the height of my knees, surrounding the tree. Shiny silver cushions lined either side of each of the low tables. My best guess was there was seating for forty or fifty at each of the tables.

“Four thousand,” he said.

I peered at him and decided not to inquire how he would know that. He was an ambassador; I shouldn’t be surprised he would know his job. After all, he was Dyter. Instead, I did the math of tables and cushions in my head. “I would say at least a quarter of them then by the looks.”

Kamoi crossed the clearing, weaving in and out of tables toward us.

His gaze dipped to my chest, and I pushed my hair forward. Lacing the corset tight was great for keeping it on but did have other consequences.

The prince’s eyes widened as he took me in. I may not have any binding designs on him, but his response was gratifying.

“Kamoi,” Dyter bit out.

I knew that voice, and a glance at my mentor confirmed what I’d thought. Dyter’s jaw was clenched, and he was glaring at the Phaetyn prince.

Kamoi missed the look or ignored it—his eyes never left me. He held his arm out to me with a warm look of appreciation glowing in his violet eyes.

A few Phaetyn stopped to watch, their conversations drying up as they focused on us.

I nodded at Kamoi, wary of what his attention might cause. “Good evening, Kamoi. I’ll walk with Dyter. But would you show us where we’ll be sitting? I don’t know how you have the tables organized.”

His gaze traveled down my dress, his lips parting as he pulled in a deep breath. He met my eyes and flashed a rakish grin. “Ryn, you’re absolutely ravishing. You strike me speechless.” He clasped his hands to his chest and winked at me. “You will not sit on a cushion. You’ll sit with the royal family at the table.”

I followed his pointing finger to a table just under the tree. I scrunched my nose as I noticed the fence surrounding the large ash, the distance enough to make touching the tree impossible.

“You are not agreeable with this?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“The cushions look like more fun,” I explained. “I sit at a table all the time.”

Kamoi hesitated. “Well, if you would prefer . . .”

Dyter led me around the prince, squeezing my hand in a now familiar warning. “No, Prince Kamoi. We would not want to alter your plans. We’re happy to sit at your table.”

I kept my mouth shut.

Kamoi fell into step beside me. “Of course.”

Phaetyn were already taking their places, apparently sitting at random at the low tables. They were the calmest I’d yet seen them. Perhaps Queen Alani was wise to have a gathering to unify them.

Kamoi led me to a seat, and as soon as I sat, I was glad I wasn’t on a cushion. This corset was definitely too tight.

“You are radiant tonight.” Kamoi leaned in and brushed my hair back off my shoulder. His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard.

“We’re here as friends,” I reminded him, waving him away as I would a fly.

His eyes dipped, and a slow smile pulled at one side of his lips.

“Friends,” I said in a sharper tone.

Grinning, he held his hand over his heart and chuckled. “I must apologize once more. I find it hard to remember my promises when you look the way you do.”

I mumbled, “That’s at least the third apology today.”

“I suppose I should apologize for that, too,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the Phaetyn as food was laid out before us. Everyone was dressed in the same fashion as Dyter and me in varying states of grandeur and colors. Some corsets and vests were embroidered as mine, and some plain. The flower crowns were all made of the same pale-green flowers, interspersed with tiny white buds.

I snickered as Dyter’s stomach rumbled, and the Phaetyn sitting on cushions in front of the royal table looked at him. “Bit hungry?”

“Just a little,” he grumbled. “All I’ve had today is fruit.”

My mouth watered at the layout of food. Freshly baked rolls gave off a delicious aroma, steam still rising from them in wavering tendrils; the bright colors of salad vegetables drew my eye next, and then the arrangement of cut fruit. And . . .

“What’s that?” I asked Kamoi, pointing at a fountain with brown liquid.

“Excuse me,” he said to his father sitting on the other side, and then Kamoi turned to give me his attention.

Oops.

“Yes, Ryn?” he asked, smiling as if I hadn’t been totally rude. I pointed again, and he said, “Liquid chocolate.”

I frowned at the unfamiliar word. Even in Tyrrik’s tower, I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard mention of it. “What’s chocolate?”

Kamoi grinned. “Really?” When I nodded, he added, “I can’t believe you haven’t had chocolate.”

“I guess starving people don’t get access to it,” I replied, feeling a little defensive. I’d kind of meant it as a joke, but as his smile faded, I wondered. Just like the abundance on King Irdelron’s table, this display of food had me on edge. Verald was doing a lot better with the Phaetyn blood Caltevyn was spreading throughout the Quota Fields, but still, if the Phaetyn just made three or four trips a year out there, everything could be so different . . . for Verald and Gemond. The blood Caltevyn had would only last so long, and while I would do all I could to keep people fed, I was only one Phaetyn.

“I’d love to try it,” I said, trying to cover the moment, and Kamoi recovered his smile.

He stood and rounded the table to load fruit onto a small plate. He then poured some of the liquid chocolate into a crystal bowl and placed both before me.

He selected a strawberry and dipped it in the chocolate then popped it in his mouth.

The stuff was a rich brown. Honestly, the thick liquid chocolate looked the same color as the dirt in Verald, like the mud pies Arnik and I had made as children. I took a cautious sniff, surprised when I detected sweetness.

I picked up a blueberry and dabbed the tiniest bit of brown on it. Smiling at Dyter, I popped the fruit in my mouth. My eyes widened as the chocolate coated my tongue. “Holy pancakes.”

“Good, isn’t it?” Kamoi asked.

I nodded frantically, pushing the fruit at Dyter. He picked a piece of apple and dipped it before taking a bite of the fruit.

He chewed and swallowed. “It’s al’right, bit sweet.”

Miserable old coot. I went for a strawberry next.

“I’m pleased the chocolate meets with your approval,” Kamoi said when I was on my third strawberry.

Did it ever. After my connection with the trees, and seeing the man levitate water today, this was a solid third tick in the Phaetyn’s favor.

The Phaetyn hushed, and I glanced around to see the cause. My gaze fell on a litter being carried out of the Pink House. No confusion as to who that was. I pursed my lips and practiced my impassive face.

Slowly, Queen Alani was carried to the royal table, and her mate—Luna’s ex-mate, King Kaelan—got up to lift her and deposit her in a grand wooden chair. Unlike the floral crowns every other female wore, Alani’s crown was made of silver, gold, and glittering emeralds and diamonds.

So that was how she reminded everyone who she was. My disdain for the queen deepened, and the sweetness of the chocolate soured in my mouth. I might want a crown like that, but it would be for me to treasure, not to show off.

The queen arranged her embroidered robes around her, and the talking resumed as she fell into conversation with her mate.

After what I’d seen today, how Alani and Kaelan had watched as Luna’s lover was slaughtered and she was carted off by the emperor, I could barely stomach being this close to them. I thought of my conversation with Dyter about the Drae and tried to suppress my hasty judgment. Perhaps, there hadn’t been anything they could’ve done then.

But the trees didn’t think so. Just as they thought Luna’s child was still out there. After talking with both Kamini and the Phaetyn rebels—and listening to my own gut—I was certain the trees only told truth. Yet, if they’d told truth, I was sitting at a table with two people who’d let their rightful ruler—one of them her sister and one of them her ex-mate—be taken hostage. Even if they couldn’t stop Draedyn, they hadn’t told the truth to the other Phaetyn. Not the whole truth.

That, I knew, could tear this place apart. However, the words from my lips would do no good. Half of these people hated me. They thought I’d come to take over, that a Drae monster had come to claim the queendom. The other half either didn’t like this queen or didn’t like being confined in Zivost, apart from the world.

I might gain the support of some of them if I disclosed Luna’s past. The trees wanted their people to know the truth. But if two thousand Phaetyn fought two thousand Phaetyn, they would eventually heal. There could be no victor without using Drae blood. The destruction would go on and on.

The Phaetyn were fighting over whether they had to stay in the forest or not, which, really, did not even register as important compared to cannibalism, starvation, or say . . . the forced conscription of men fighting in the emperor’s war of greed. That made me furious, that the Phaetyn were squabbling over such a petty thing when the answer was so simple. Why couldn’t each Phaetyn make their own decision?

The answer was obvious, and shame sunk deep in my chest. I’d been ignoring the people’s right to choose just as hard as the Phaetyn royals. Just not for as long.

The crowd hushed again, and I turned to see Alani standing with her hand raised in the air.

“My people,” she said. “Tonight, I’ve come to you. I wanted to see your faces, your smiles and laughter, to partake in your joy. You, each of you, are why I struggle, day in and day out, to keep the barrier up, to keep us safe.”

Oh brother. More than half of the gathered Phaetyn erupted into applause, but several Phaetyn remained mute, their faces stony.

“I would like to welcome our temporary guests, Ryn and Dyter. They have also brought with them Lord Irrik”—she held her hand out when several of the Phaetyn gasped and then raised her voice as she continued—“Fear not. He lies in deep slumber, and I’ve been assured he poses no threat.”

I narrowed my eyes as I processed what she’d said. If I had faith in the queen, I might believe she’d meant our assurances regarding Tyrrik. But, the knowledge I had was that she’d leave her own sister to their enemy. Unease congealed deep in my gut.

“Please, sit with your neighbors,” she continued. “Sit with your friends, your family, and your kin. Eat, dance, and uphold the values of our race.”

Kamoi scraped back his chair and held his hand out to me. Without thinking, I followed his lead, placing my hand in his as I stood. Wait. Why were we the only two up? What was happening?

Music started playing.

“We’re dancing?” I asked as he led me around the table.

I glanced back at Dyter, who was scowling after us.

“Yes, would you like to?” the Prince asked.

“Do you always ask later than you should?” I asked through my fake smile.

He turned, expression sheepish.

As he opened his mouth to speak, I held up a finger. “Your apologies are beginning to lose meaning.”

Kamoi nodded, a grave expression on his stunning face. “I will do better. I’m not used to asking, but I see it is important to you. I’ll do better.”

“That’s a very princely thing to say.”

He led me into a cleared area just past the tables. The band, a duet, consisted of a Phaetyn with a wind instrument that looked like three wooden flutes stacked on top of each other, and another with a harp that was twice his height.

Kamoi spun me in a circle, forcing my attention from the band to my feet.

There wasn’t anyone else dancing yet. I dropped his hand and put distance between us, but he simply eyed the space and stepped toward me.

“That’s not how we dance in Verald,” I lied. I couldn’t tell if Kamoi was aware of how this looked. Maybe this was a normal occurrence for him, what with being the prince and all. But I didn’t want to strengthen any of the rumors about us binding. I waved my hips and stomped in a circle.

“This is how you should dance.” I held my elbows in and slid to the side and then shook my hands as though flicking off water.

Dyter better not be laughing over there, or I was busted.

“This . . . is how you dance in Verald?”

I kept my expression smooth. “What? You don’t like it?” I bent in half to touch my toes and then waved my arms at either side, flicking my hair back. I closed my eyes and swayed. “Feel the music, Kamoi.”

“Feel the music,” he repeated uncertainly.

I opened my eyes and saw he was replicating my arm movements. Laughter burst out of me, and I doubled over as I gasped for air.

“You were jesting!” he accused.

I glanced over at Dyter to see he was slapping the table, heartily ignoring the queen and her mate who had turned to glare at him.

Kamoi joined in my laughter. “Thank the realm; I thought you were serious.”

I waved a hand in the air, walking back to the royal table.

“You no longer wish to dance?” he asked, following me.

I gestured at the corset. “Can no longer breathe.”

It was partially my fault that he looked where I’d gestured, I supposed.

“Yes,” he gulped. “I see that.”

I blushed and then yelped as Kamoi lunged at me, jerking me out of the way as a flying fruit skewer soared past my cheek.

His face hardened, and he pushed me behind him, shouting, “Who threw that?”