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Tartanis sucked in a slow breath, looking from Thraigg to Elyria to Cedric and back again. “My new dwarven friend is right. And I did not come here to reopen old wounds. It is simply difficult to pretend they don’t exist.”

“But you’ve always been so good at pretending,” Elyria spat back. “Pretending nothing’s wrong, pretending like you’re a good father, pretending like you weren’t using your child for⁠—”

“Elle,” Cedric said softly, and she rolled her eyes but did not continue.

To his credit, Tartanis did look . . . sad. “Forgive an old man,” he said after a moment. “There are many things I would’ve done differently, were I given the chance to redo them.”

She shrugged. “You’ll never earn my forgiveness, so there’s little point in asking for it. You might still gain his though.” She tilted her head at Cedric. “He’s a far better person than me.”

Some flash of emotion flickered across Tartanis’s face, but it was gone too quickly for Cedric to discern exactly what it was.

“I apologize for my earlier behavior, Sir Thorne,” Tartanis said, and Cedric’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Even with my daughter and I being estranged for many years, you might understand a father’s . . . protectiveness . . . when it comes to his children’s paramours. Especially one with such a storied legacy.”

Elyria barked a laugh. “For fuck’s sake, just come out and say it. You’re judging him because he’s part human.”

“He’s mostly human. And of course I’m judging it—though I don’t judge him for it. I am not so high and mighty that I can’t recognize when a thing is or isn’t someone’s fault.”

Elyria only glared at her father.

He sighed. “But you don’t know the heartache you’re in for, my girl.”

“And you don’t know a real thing about him. About either of us.”

“I know enough. And human or fae, that isn’t even the real crux of the issue. His grandmother was the very one who sundered the realm. He will have enemies of all kinds at his back when he takes the throne.”

“I don’t want to take the—” Cedric tried to protest, but it appeared that getting a word in edgewise, even when he was the very topic of conversation, was an impossible feat.

“What do you think Lachlandris will do when he learns who he is?” Tartanis continued, talking over Cedric. “I’ve kept it from him for now, but we won’t be able to hide it forever. Especially not after what I suspect you are planning to do next. Already, the king has been so embittered by Dentarius’s death, it’s a wonder he hasn’t declared war outright on Havensreach.”

“Is that true?” Thraigg interjected, mouth gaping. “That’s why ye wanted to know about⁠—”

“Yes,” Tartanis replied tightly. “The king’s resistance is greater than I could have anticipated. He refuses to allocate resources to hunting Malakar. Refuses to send Arcanian troops beyond Nyrundelle’s border, in fact.”

“Kit said you told her you had influence,” Elyria said. “That you would get the king to see reason. We need Aerithia’s aid more than ever now.”

Tartanis’s mouth thinned. “I tried. Grief is a powerful anchor. It can drown even the most reasonable man.”

Elyria looked at Cedric. “We are alone, then.”

“No, you are not,” said Tartanis. “That is why I am here.”

A beat of heavy silence passed through the tent. Then another.

Tartanis sighed. “I came because the threat Malakar poses to all of Arcanis is greater than any of us. I came because whatever may have happened in our past, I know you are the key to protecting the future.”

“And what better way to secure your own future than to ensure you’ve attached yourself to the winning side, right?”

“Rev, don’t you think yer being—” Thraigg cut himself off at the look Elyria shot him. “Right. I’ll . . . just be over here. Breathing.”

“Elyria,” Tartanis said, all pretense of charm and warmth gone. There was only cold resolve as he took a few steps closer, and Cedric found it . . . refreshing. “I am here to help in every capacity I possess. I thought that much was made clear by the very existence of this place. I have bankrolled these supplies, secured passage for these people, out of my own pocket. For the good of Arcanis. For you.”

He was close enough now to put his hand on Elyria’s shoulder, and to Cedric’s great surprise, she let him.

“I’m not a naive little girl anymore, Father. There’s something you’re hoping to get out of this. You never pull strings without some benefit for yourself.”

“What use is there pulling strings from the shadows if there is no longer a world worth living in the light for? For all my shortcomings, I think you know I am a man of my word. So believe me when I tell you, I am trying to do right here.” He gave her a sad smile before dropping his hand. “To do right by you.”

Before Elyria could respond, the tent flap rustled, and a slight sylvan man appeared, breath fogging in the cold. “A message for you, my lady,” he said, thrusting a folded scrap of parchment into Elyria’s hand. “An urgent one.”