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My mouth dried out.

What was I even supposed to do?

Reuben saved me before I had to try and figure out what to say.

“Is their room ready?” he asked in that same calm manner.

Both of the new women straightened, their focus moving to him.

“Yes, it’s ready.” One of them looked at me, taking hold of Elyssian’s lead rope. “Matthew said the prince is delayed?”

Reuben nodded and then helped me down from Elyssian, his hold strong around my waist and then unwavering as I grabbed his arm for support. The first woman guided us around the inn and toward a much smaller building behind it, tucked away from the road. I couldn’t help but frown, twisting back toward everyone else disappearing into the bright light of the bigger building.

The question slipped out.

“Are we not staying with everyone else?”

Reuben gave me another of those small, understanding smiles. “You and Callum have special accommodations here, just like you will in Dawncross on the other side of the Zimerus Forest.”

Special rooms?

I swallowed down the uncomfortable sensation twisting my stomach at the very real reminder that Callum was a prince. A silhouette of someone crossing the open space grew larger as I tried to figure out just what to say. Amaria’s smile was as warm as the light behind her as she wrapped her dark cloak tighter around her shoulders. One of the fire jars was draped across her chest and rested on a hip, the light bobbing with each quick step she took.

The new woman opened the door to the smaller building and then offered another small curtsy.

“If you need anything, please let me know.” Her smile was cautious, but her eyes were bright.

“All right,” I murmured, trying for something neutral. It seemed to be enough. She turned and quickly crossed the space separating the two buildings, slipping inside the back door as smoothly as Amaria had slipped out of it. Reuben held his hand out in invitation on the threshold. The temptation to beg to sleep with everyone else in the bigger building rode me hard. Instead, I followed Reuben into the space set apart for Callum—and for me by association.

The warm light of the fire jars spread across the moderately sized room. Directly in front of us a narrow staircase led to an upper level, the treads and small runner down the center worn with use. To the left was a modest kitchen, the cabinets a medium brown wood I didn’t recognize but Sloane would probably know the name of. A table large enough to seat four sat in the middle of the kitchen, acting as both eating and preparation space. To the right, two worn chairs flanked a sofa with deep green upholstery and wide arms.

It… was a home, clearly lived in and taken care of.

I soaked in the space a second time before focusing on the large sofa. It was there Reuben directed me even as Amaria stayed near the door. He dropped into a crouch once I was perched awkwardly on one of the cushions. He was more serious than I’d seen him, that worry still evident in his furrowed brow and pursed lips. I tried to mentally prepare for another round of painful mending.

“There’s something wrong with your translation tattoo,” he said. “It’s what’s causing your continued head pain.”

I blinked, caught entirely off guard.

“It… What?”

“Mage magic is not the magic I have,” Reuben said, only confusing me more. “It’s taught through many years of rigorous study, creating the ability to wield the earth when there is no inherent ability to do so. The magic a Sylvorian wields—or Drulea or Nesumia or any of the other peoples who have hereditary magic—is very different. I cannot fix whatever was done incorrectly with the magic that’s given you the ability to understand us and we you.”

The door to the quaint home opened and Shelby stepped past the threshold, a saddlebag in her arms.

Reuben didn’t look toward them. “I’ll let Callum know when he arrives that you’ll need to have the spell evaluated and adjusted when we get to Starguard. I’m not sure what longterm issues may arise from the spell as it is now. Until then, I’ll ensure you have as much of the serum as needed to keep the pain manageable, all right?”

I managed a small nod. He rose then, quickly leaving the home entirely. He left the fire jar on the floor beside me. With a trembling hand, I carefully picked it up, pressing both palms against it. The bite of pain from the heat settled me nearly as well as the less-than-healthy methods I’d used in the past.

Shelby set the bag at the base of the narrow stairs and then undid the styling she’d put into my hair.

When she was done, Amaria said, “Dinner will be ready soon. We can help you get settled for the night while you wait.”

All I wanted was to sleep, especially with the way my eyes were hurting. I unclasped the heavy cloak and set it on the sofa beside me, adjusting without a word until my head rested on the arm and my feet were tucked into the cloak’s warm fabric, the fire jar pressed into my stomach.

“You’ll stay until the food comes? I don’t…” I cut off the words. It was idiotic to admit I didn’t want to be alone while Callum was gone, not when there wouldn’t be any longterm friendship with either of them.

Not that I even knew how to have friends beyond those superficial conversations between coworkers. I’d always had Sloane and that had been enough. It had had to be enough with how often we were bounced around foster homes.