“I have exactly three days to figure out how to fix this disaster.”

Cyrene stared around the crowded inn suite. A sense of urgency lit up the room. She couldn’t believe this was happening, and after her conversation with Dean, she was more determined than ever to fix this.

She knew that she couldn’t get a letter to Edric in time before Queen Cassia shipped her out of the harbor. And what would I even say in the letter anyway?

Sorry, I wasn’t kidnapped. I had to go chase down a pair of two-thousand-year-old Doma who your ancestors had forgotten to murder.

She didn’t think that would go over well.

“How did Edric even find out you were here?” Ahlvie asked. He was kicked back in a chair with his feet up.

Eleysia had been good to him, she could see. It was strange to think about how much she had missed him now that he was in front of her. He and Maelia had been her constant companions for so long.

“Yeah. It’s been months,” Maelia said.

“Someone must have leaked the information,” Orden said.

Then, his eyes traveled around the room, as if he was trying to figure out which of them had done it. But how can I blame anyone in this room?

“What about Ceis’f?” Ahlvie asked.

“No,” Avoca said automatically.

“It’s plausible,” Orden said. “He has motive.”

“Ceis’f would never betray me.”

“Well, I’d bet he’d think he was only betraying Cyrene,” Ahlvie said.

“Same thing!”

“He doesn’t think like that though, Avoca. You know he doesn’t. You are Leif. We are Other.”

She sighed and rubbed her face. “It’s a possibility.”

“I don’t want to think that Ceis’f would do that, but it’s not ruled out. There is another option though. Dean’s sister Alise has been plotting to get rid of me,” Cyrene said. “So, it could have been her. And, as much as I would love to get back at her for her ridiculous, petty sabotage, I need to figure out how to stay first.”

“I hate to say this, Cyrene, but maybe we should just go,” Avoca said. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and even in the dark purple Eleysian gown she was wearing, she looked like a warrior.

“We came here to find Matilde and Vera, and look,” Ahlvie said, gesturing to the two women who had thus far remained silent by the door, “there they are.”

“I know, but—”

“As much as I like Eleysia, I wouldn’t mind a change in scenery,” Orden said.

“Yes, but—”

“There’s nothing tying us to Eleysia now that we have what we were looking for,” Avoca continued. “It would be reasonable to just take the news that we have been asked to leave as a sign and disappear before anyone knows otherwise.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but what will happen to Eleysia if they don’t hand me over?” Cyrene asked.

Orden stroked his beard and tipped back his big, floppy hat. “Diplomacy. They would say that you disappeared, and Edric would send a small group to investigate, but it would be the truth, so it would blow over.”

“No way,” Ahlvie said. “Edric isn’t thinking clearly right now. It would be war before he’d act diplomatically to someone taking Cyrene. Are you all forgetting Aurum?”

“And what about Cyrene?” Maelia said from the corner.

She looked even paler and smaller than normal. Cyrene had thought the weather would raise her spirits and give some color to her, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect.

“Yes, what about me? Um…what about me?”

“Dean,” she filled in.

“Oh.”

“And Darmian,” Maelia added. She coughed twice and then looked away. “My apologies. I’ve been a bit under the weather.”

“I know this doesn’t pertain to the entire group, but Maelia is right. I’m not willing to leave Dean.”

“You would go back to Byern instead of fleeing for this Prince?” Orden asked.

“I understand how you feel about him, Cyrene, but it’s not reasonable,” Avoca said practically.

“Then, there has to be another way. I don’t want to leave Dean. Maelia doesn’t want to leave Darmian. None of us want to split up, except Ceis’f, who abandoned us and maybe sold us out!” she grumbled. “Yet I’ve been summoned home. What do we do?”

“Perhaps I could offer a third scenario?” Matilde said with a wry smile.

“Kathrine,” Vera said softly, “you’re not honestly suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?”

“What’s life without a little risk?”

“A big risk.”

“It would work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Could you perhaps fill us in on what you’re considering?” Cyrene asked. She was desperate enough to try anything.

Matilde explained what she had in mind, and by the time she finished talking, everyone was staring at her, slack-jawed.

“You want us to do what?” Cyrene asked.

“I know it sounds risky,” Matilde began.

“It sounds like suicide,” Avoca said.

“It just might work.” Ahlvie nodded his head. He had always liked his plans to have a little bit of insanity to them.

“It is never going to work,” Maelia said. She pursed her lips and looked like she might pass out.

“Do you need someone to look at you?” Cyrene asked.

Maelia shook her head. “No. I’ve done what I can. It will pass.”

Cyrene frowned but nodded. She wouldn’t push Maelia. “I’ve no idea what is going to happen in the next three days, but if you think this will work…if you think I’m ready for this, then I’m in.”

The rest of the room agreed with her.

Matilde stood up a little straighter. “Just like old times, right, Mari?”

“I hope it doesn’t end up like old times.”

“We’re older and wiser. Plus, I’ll let you do all the real planning.”

Vera rolled her eyes. “Of course you will.”

Two days later, Cyrene was standing on the docks at First Harbor with her heart in her throat. She could barely see the outline of Ahlvie and Orden in the torchlight. She couldn’t believe they were actually going to go through with this. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to go through with this. It felt…crazy. And maybe it was, but it was the only way, and she would do it. She had made a promise to Dean.

“You have everything?” Cyrene asked.

Ahlvie patted his shirt pocket. “All here. Are you going to tell me what the letter says?”

Cyrene shook her head. “It’s private, but if talking to Edric doesn’t work”—and she didn’t think it would—“then give him the letter. That should settle things.”

“I can’t believe, after all of this, I’m on my way back to Byern.”

“I know. Maelia is in position to make sure no one knows, not even Darmian, that you are leaving tonight.”

“Good. You know I’ll do what I can to get this all straightened out.” His eyes drifted upward, searching out Avoca.

Cyrene knew Ahlvie hated leaving Avoca behind, but she needed Avoca to get through this.

“And you’ll return to me safe and sound and in one piece,” Cyrene instructed him. She reached out and touched his arm. “And to her.”

“Is she coming?”

Cyrene was glad for the low light. She could normally sense Avoca when she was near, but she didn’t feel a thing. Cyrene had expected her to be here, but her mood had been so sour after they had finalized their plans that Cyrene also wasn’t that surprised to find that she was gone. She had already lost Ceis’f. Even if they had fought all the time, she hadn’t actually wanted him to leave. And she definitely didn’t want Ahlvie to leave.

“I don’t know,” Cyrene finally answered.

“She’ll be here,” Ahlvie said confidently. “She has to be.”

“I’m sorry that we have to split up.”

Ahlvie shook his head. “It’s a necessity, but she knows how I feel. Nothing is going to change that in the time it takes for me to get to Byern and back.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Cyrene asked.

“I know I’m a jokester and a drunk and a gambler and anything else people want to call me,” Ahlvie said. His eyes were still fixed on the end of the dock. “But none of that matters when I’m with her. But I haven’t told her, and I need to tell her.”

“I’m sure she knows.”

“Time to go,” Orden called from the deck of the ship. “We need to get out of here. Storm’s a-brewin’.”

Ahlvie gave Cyrene a wry smile.

“Be safe out there,” she told him.

He pulled her to him and squeezed her hard. “You be safe, too. You won’t have me to watch your back.”

Cyrene laughed. “I’m pretty sure I watch your back.”

Ahlvie’s eyes wandered down to the end of the dock again, and then he shook his head in despair. “Will you tell her I love her?”

“Tell her when you come back,” Cyrene insisted. “You’ll have all the time in the world then.”

He nodded, and with one last forlorn look, he hurried after Orden and got onto the boat. The Eleysian vessel disappeared out onto the water. It was already choppy. Unseasonably troublesome.

She would have smiled if she wasn’t so sad to see her friends go.

A figure appeared next to her, and Cyrene would have startled if she hadn’t sensed her coming.

“Why didn’t you say good-bye?” Cyrene asked.

Avoca shook her head. “I can’t say good-bye to him.”

“He was devastated that you weren’t here.”

“He’ll come back. He has to come back.”

With a flick of Cyrene’s magic, she linked herself with Avoca. The feel of their magic together was about as intimate as Avoca got. She wasn’t one to break down and cry or ask for a hug. But this, Cyrene could offer her. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

“Everything falls into place today,” Maelia said in Cyrene’s room the next morning. Her hands were shaking as she pulled on the pale yellow Eleysian gown for the Bride of the Sea ceremony.

Cyrene’s own gown had been delivered this morning. When she had opened the box, she had gasped. It wasn’t the gown that she had ordered. It was something so much more beautiful. The cerulean and gold dress was so light and buttery soft that it slipped through her fingers. The dress was strapless with a sheer slip that went over the bottom layer of the dress before falling long and flowy to the ground. She wore the string of Eleysian pearls Dean had given her at Eos around her neck.

“I know.” She looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted the pin in her hair. “Are you sure that Darmian is none the wiser with our plans? I don’t want him to run to Dean.”

She nodded. Her eyes were distant. “I’m certain.”

“Good. Are you going to be okay?”

Cyrene glanced back over at her friend, who looked as if her illness was getting worse. The pale yellow did nothing to improve her coloring.

“Stop asking me that,” Maelia snapped.

Her irritation level was through the roof, and Cyrene couldn’t figure out why.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just…frustrated.” Maelia dropped her eyes to the ground. “I feel like I’m betraying my country if I follow you and betraying you if I follow orders.”

“We can’t go back there, Maelia. You know that, right?”

“Why not?” Maelia asked. “Not that I don’t want to stay to be here with you and with…Darmian.” Her voice dipped as she used his name. “But country comes first, Cyrene. It always comes first.”

Cyrene frowned. “I know what you’re saying, Maelia. If I thought there was another way or that Byern would be accepting of the person I am, then I would go back.” She reached out and grabbed Maelia’s hands. “I miss Byern. I miss the castle and the mountains and the river and the smell of home. I miss the Laelish Market at high season and riding my horse through the streets instead of taking stupid boats everywhere.”

Maelia laughed, and a tear leaked out. “I miss those things, too.”

“I miss Rhea and my family and court…”

“And Edric?”

Cyrene nodded. “And Edric. But you know what I don’t miss?”

“What?”

“The naiveté I had about the rest of the world and the pedestal I put Byern on before leaving. Our home is not perfect. It’s broken, and it’s done horrible things to the rest of the world…to people like me. If I go back to Byern, I want it to be for the right reasons and not because some boy demands I return, like a child who got his toy stolen.”