“You should. Women are all queens, aren’t we?”
“Right we are.”
I wiggled into her shoes, the heels worn and toes creased. They pinched a bit. Good. I tugged my pants down over them and straightened my shoulders.
The small version of her bonded creature, a fuzzy, badger-like thing no larger than her hand, scurried across the room to sniff her shoes now on my feet. It sneezed and darted behind her left foot, peering around her leg at me in a mischievous way that made me laugh.
My minxpip felt notably absent.
“This is Levar.” She scooped him up and held him like a baby.
“The dragon?”
“Exactly.”
A chime rang out, tinkling through the air.
“Time to leave,” Lexie said with a smile. “Let’s collect the others.”
With our arms linked, we walked down the hall.
Kerralyn answered on the second knock, already dressed in a tunic and trousers. Not new, but crisp and well cared for. The starched outfit matched her academic style and went well with the pencil she’d used to secure her hair in a neat bun at her nape.
She crossed the room to retrieve her own small companion, a sleek-furred mole with round, intelligent eyes. When she placed it on her shoulder, it clung to her tunic with tiny claws.
“Keek,” she said, tilting her head toward the mole. “She’s quiet, but not shy.”
We left, crossing the corridor.
Derren opened his door with a tired smile. A moth-hawk hybridhovered by his shoulder, studying us standing in the hall, its paper-thin wings creating a tiny breeze.
“Meet Dare, everyone.” Derren stepped out to join us and tugged Lexie into his arms, giving her a long kiss.
We stopped at Bryson’s room next.
He wore gray pants and a black tunic. His furless, antlered, big-eyed companion scampered around us, sniffing our shoes.
“Come on, now, Beau,” Bryson said with an indulgent smile. “Leave them alone.”
Sitting beside Bryson’s boots, the creature yawned.
I did my best to appear happy. Watching them interact with the small versions of their companions made the lack of weight on my shoulder stab deeply.
My minxpip hadn’t returned, and I was beginning to suspect she wouldn’t. But I’d urged her away. What else did I expect?
We knocked on Maddox’s door, and he opened it halfway. Shirtless. Hair unwashed and rumpled. Blotches covered his face, and his eyes held a hard edge that made me want to take a step backward.
I didn’t allow my body to follow through.
“I’m not going to dinner,” he said.
Lexie frowned. “Maddox?—”
Kerralyn spoke gently. “Grief isn’t a single thing. It’s not a shape that fits all wounds alike. It twists and coils, sometimes a shadow choking the light, other times a fire burning slow?—”
Maddox’s eyes sharpened. “I didn’t ask for poetry.” His gaze snagged mine, full of blame and raw pain.
Derren reached out, his hand hovering over Maddox’s shoulder, but he stepped back instead of touching.
