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“It isn’t customary to give engagement rings in Dymree, but it is in Vindrya. I had this made for you and was going to give it to you on our wedding day.” He clutched it in his fist. “I kept it all these years as a reminder, or perhaps a hope, that one day things would get better. And when that day came, I wanted to be able to give this to you.”

“Elian, I can’t possibly—” she broke off, a dozen reasons why fighting at the tip of her tongue.

You said you wanted space.

I don’t know if I deserve your love.

I am still unsure of my own heart.

“I can’t take something so precious to you,” she said finally, holding it back out to him.

Elian didn’t take it. “I am not trying to force you into anything. We have a lot we still need to talk about and I know we both need to sort out our own feelings. You promised Bern you would come back. So keep this as a promise to me. That you won’t just come back but that you will come and find me so we can have a proper discussion.”

Thicket’s fist clenched around the ring. “I promise.”

The door swung open behind her. Marcellus stepped in. “Princess, they said the horses are ready for us.”

He had exchanged his torn tunic for one dyed a deep sage green. The loose fabric was tucked into dark brown trousers, and his swords, which had been returned to him, were strapped across his belt. He took immediate note of Elian’s proximity to Thicket.

She stuffed the ring into her pouch before Marcellus could see it. “I’m ready.”

Elian gave Thicket one last smile before stepping back. “Take care.”

“Give Lavender a good punch in the face for me!” Bern called, popping her head out from the sitting room.

Thicket winced. She hoped it didn’t come to a physical brawl.

She swept her gaze across her friends one more time. She would see them again. She would face Lavender and finally settle what she had started a century ago.

A guard brought Thicket and Marcellus to the palace entrance. Two horses were saddled and waiting for them. With a bow, he disappeared back down the courtyard.

“Well, this is it,” Thicket said, trying to hide the tremble of her voice.

Now that they were alone, her bravado was slipping.

“You can do this,” Marcellus said. “I will be right there with you.”

Thicket bit her lip. “About that…”

He glowered. “No.”

She pressed on. “I need you to go back to Sleeria.”

“No,” he repeated.

“Someone needs to tell them what is going on.”

“Like hell am I going to let you go to Minloc alone.”

Thicket grabbed his hands. He startled, as though her touch had sent a jolt straight through him. “I asked you to trust me once. I am asking you to trust me again.”

Marcellus let out a growl of frustration, but his composure crumpled. He tugged her close, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “You must do whatever you can to win,” he said. “There are no rules or limitations in this fight. Your sister will use everything to her advantage, and so must you.” He pulled away, staring at her intently. “Don’t pull your punches. Never assume you won until she is properly detained, and even then do not take your eyes off her for a second, do you understand? No matter what tricks she may try to use to distract you, you ignore it and you win. Promise me.” His tone matched the serious tilt of his brows.

“I will.”

She waited for him to let go, but he didn’t. Neither did she. If anything, she clutched his hands tighter, wanting to be selfish one last time. Wanting him to come with her. Wanted to rely on him until the time came for him to leave.

But this fight was between her and Lavender. It always had been. No one else had to get involved.