She hadn’t meant to draw everyone’s attention, but she’d spoken loud enough to earn the curiosity of those near her, and when her eyes locked with her oldest friend’s, she released Rennick’s hand and ran.
It hit her then, the homesickness. She hadn’t realized how much she needed a familiar face. Clover met her at the bottom of the podium steps and wrapped her in a hug.
“I knew you were my friend,” she croaked against Clover’s shoulder.
Clover pushed her back, looking devastated. “You thought we weren’t friends?”
Amelia waved her off. “It’s an inside joke I had with myself.” She realized how stupid that sounded and added, “You rarely spoke, and sometimes I thought you were simply too polite to tell me to leave you alone, but deep down I knew that wasn’t the case.”
Clover laughed, a sound Amelia rarely heard. “I don’t like to talk, but I like to listen. You always had a lot to say.”
“Did you get my note? I dropped it in your mail slot at the house.” Amelia’s heart sped up at the guilty look on Clover’s face. “What is it?”
“I moved home,” she replied softly.
Movedhome? Their home was the boardinghouse. Amelia fought to work out her friend’s meaning because nothing made sense. If Clover hadn’t received Amelia's note because she’d already moved, then that meant… Amelia’s hand flew to her mouth. Surely, she was wrong. Clover wouldn’t do that but, still, she voiced her fear. “You left without saying goodbye?”
Clover’s hands twisted together as she took in Amelia’s crestfallen expression. “I knew where you’d be and planned to visit after you settled in.”
Amos approached them, his eyes glued to Clover. “We need to take this somewhere private.”
Rennick agreed and shuffled them through a side door that led into an elegant sitting room with no other doors or windows.
“What is this place?” Amelia surveyed the room. “Why would a gaudy sitting room be connected to the dining hall?”
Rennick dropped a steel bar across the door to lock it. “It’s a soundproof safe room for the royal family.”
“I really need a map of the palace,” Amelia muttered under her breath and turned to Amos. “Why are we in here?”
“I sent Clover to watch over you,” he said, still staring at Clover, who studiously ignored him.
Amelia blinked. “What do you mean?”
Rennick closed the distance between them and placed his hand on her lower back.
“My father trained me to fight as well as any warrior from the time I could walk,” Clover interjected, her voice softer than usual. “Your brother found me when I was thirteen and sent me to protect you.”
“I don’t understand.” Amelia struggled to keep up. She didn’t know how many more secrets she could handle. “You’re a human, and he couldn’t leave the Desert Kingdom until he was twenty-five.”
Clover shifted uncomfortably and pushed her wild blonde hair behind her pointed ear. “Glamour. I’m from the Desert Kingdom.”
Amelia gaped at her. “What about your family?” she asked, desperately hoping and praying her friend wasn’t ripped from her loved ones. “Did they die?”
Clover glanced at Amos. “They’re alive. They came to visit as often as they could.”
Amelia’s guilt over her brother carrying the burden of protecting her at such a young age was one thing, but forcing a young girl from her home? It was too much.
She whirled on Amos without thinking and slapped him as hard as she could. Clover flinched, but Amelia swore she saw the hint of a smile on her face. Rennick pushed Amelia behind him, and Amos stood open-mouthed, holding the side of his face.
“You forced a thirteen-year-old girl to leave her kingdom?” she shouted, lunging at him, but Rennick held her back. “How dare you? She was achild.”
“It’s okay,” Clover insisted, trying to calm Amelia down and failing miserably.
Amelia stopped struggling in her mate’s hold and stared down at her friend. “Did you want to leave your family?”
Clover’s mouth opened to say something before it clamped shut. When she avoided Amelia’s gaze, Amelia bent over, ignoring Rennick’s hands tightening on her hips. She quickly removed one of her slippers and launched it at her brother’s head, but he deflected the blow with his forearms.
“Enough!” he yelled, clenching his fists.
