Hildy followed Wynnie on board theactuaria, then Isahn, being “prodded” by Dunstan, as if he wasn’t eager to cross the lake.
“Are you all right?” Hildy checked.
“I think so. Slightly nervous. Exceptionally excited. I’m all right.”
“Here’s George’s token.” Wynnie set a bronze coin in his palm. One side featured a circle of raised dots, and the other had a weathered star. Isahn ran his thumb over the embossed design, tracing the bumps.
With his hand shoved in his pocket and the coin safely enclosed in his grip, he wrapped his entire hand in a thick cord of water, just to be safe. He was not about to risk losing all of his memories again.
AsIsahn’sfreshlyun-miragedfeet pounded up the spiraling tower stairs to George’s apartments, one thought kept somersaulting through his mind: It was good to be home.
Dunstan reached the door to the sitting room first and peeked to make certain the coast was clear before letting Isahn in.
Burke and a vaguely familiar man waited, poised to greet them. Burke’s hands hung by his sides, then he lifted them, and dropped them, a few times over.
With a glance over his shoulder, Isahn realized the guard was watching Hildy, who’d entered behind him and was still in conversation with Wynnie.
Hildy nodded at Burke like she might on any old afternoon, not at all how one might greet someone they’d missed. Now that Isahn thought about it, he realized Hil hadn’t talked about him at all on their journey, not in the context of him being her partner.
Burke pinched his brow as Hildy and Wynnie made straight for the low sofa and plopped upon the cushions.
“Lord Yaranbur, it’s nice to finally meet you.” The tall, dark-skinned man with cropped, coily hair stuck out his hand. “I’m Ceadda Carozza. Everyone calls me Adda.”
A memory rushed Isahn’s periphery, but he looked away—figuratively. It wasn’t the greatest time to go all topsy-turvy in the head. “It’s nice to meet you. Where’s George?”
“Cenawith the king,” Adda replied.
He nearly growled. “It’s almost midnight.”
Ceadda jumped to the side when Isahn plowed across the room toward the hidden panel.
“The king keeps late hours!” Burke called from the pouf he’d claimed as his own.
“She’s alone with that monster. Why aren’t any of you worried? Where’s Ean?” He paused by the wall that opened into the hidden hallways.
“Wow, you remember a lot,” Burke quipped.
Isahn shot him a withering look. He genuinely liked the guy, but was getting sick of any and all comments related to his faulty mind.
“Ean’s on guard outside,” Adda offered, gesturing toward the rest of the palace.
“Hey, Isahn.” Wynnie scurried toward him, voice carrying a sort of gentle reassurance. “Everything is fine, it’s going to be all right. She’s at a normal dinner, if a little late. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. My father’s there, do you remember him?”
He nodded, it was a valid memory-related question.One of very few good men George had ever known.Viceroy—whatever their surname was—was in their corner.
“She should be back in thirty minutes, based on the menu I saw this morning,” Adda added helpfully.
Isahn rolled his neck, and it crackled in a string ofpops. “I can’t wait for George to get back. Don’t want to.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Hildy put in.
“Come on, sit down, we’ll keep you company.” Burke patted a pink patchwork pouf on his right.
“I wish we could just get it over with.” Isahn paced between the door to his bedchamber and the princess’s room.
“Gasparo?” Burke asked.
“The mindmolding,” Dunstan said with certainty.
