“Care to explain what’s happening here, Captain?” Cillian maintained his smooth and even tone, and yet Aven thought he looked rattled.

Emotions clattered around in her torso and her mind, and she could not look away from the two humans. The tallest looked as though he hadn’t had a decent meal in God-knew-how-long. Ribs showed visibly beneath the thin material of histunic, tied around the waist to keep it from bagging around his frame. He shouldered a rucksack stuffed full with something she couldn’t see and physically used his body to step in front of his companion.

The young boy couldn’t be older than sixteen and had hardly any meat on his bones. The similar shape of their eyes and chin marked them as father and son. The younger of them gripped something slim and red in his hands.

They both struggled against the hold of the guards, and yet the implacable set of the fae males made any such fight an automatic loss.

“We caught these two stripping bark from the tree.” The Captain sounded solemn, furious. His eyes glinted with a combination of rage and a desire for retribution when he turned them to Aven. “It is a punishable offense.”

Was he speaking directly to her?

Cillian jutted out his chin. “Then you know what to do. We take them back to the palace for my father to pass judgment.”

“I don’t understand,” Aven said in an undertone. “What’s so bad about stripping bark from a tree?”

Cillian only returned to his stallion and mounted in a single gliding motion. His gaze trained ahead, he clucked his tongue, setting off toward the palace in a breakneck pace and leaving her to catch up. Or not.

Aven spared a glance backward to see the guards dragging the two humans behind them before dirt kicked up from her own horse’s hooves obscured them from sight. But she wasn’t sure she’d ever forget the look on the older man’s face. She recognized his particular brand of defiance. She’d worn a similar expression every time she did something unsavory that she knew was necessary during a fight. Her men had followed her without hesitation.

The two today weren’t familiar, and she wondered where they’d come from, and how they’d managed to get this deep into the fae territory. If she considered their appearances, she might almost think the two of them were slaves in some noble’s household. Except she knew the fae did not keep human workers. The humans were too hated to even be of use for menial labor.

What had happened with the tree bark, and why was Cillian unwilling to talk to her about it?

He reached the palace stables first and dismounted. Several stewards raced forward to intercept his stallion, and he strode off toward the palace just as she reached the gate to the pen around the stables.

“Did you have a nice ride, little princess? Did my brother provide satisfactory entertainment for you during your escape?” Roran asked from where he lounged against the fence rails.

Did the prince never work? Or did skulking count as work?

Aven glared at Roran and ignored the helping hands of the stewards. “Rather than taking such a keen interest in whether I’m entertained or not, why don’t you answer a question for me,” she snapped.

Roran held his arms out to the side as though he were an open book. “I’m all yours. Ask me what you will.”

Her feet hit the ground, and in the next beat, they led her horse off and left her alone with Roran.

“Did Cillian tell you what we saw on our ride home?”

“Is that your question?” Roran tilted his head to the side.

“We came upon his guards and a couple of humans. Apparently they were caught stripping bark from a tree?” Shestruggled to remember the name of the tree and came up short. “What’s the big deal?”

“A tree?” Roran repeated, uninterested in her tedious questions. Then he snapped his fingers at her, and surprise narrowed her eyes. “Does it really matter what they did as long as they are responsible for it?”

“Responsible for what, though?”

She gasped when Roran reached out and grabbed her arm, his fingers biting down into her skin and freezing her through. She could have sworn a thin layer of frost formed all the way down to her fingertips.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The King doesn’t want you out of his sight. He’s personally invited you to the proceedings. They will no doubt be held immediately. The crowds gather even as we speak. Your precious Cillian will be there.”

Aven’s legs turned to lead. She stumbled after Roran, and he only growled when she stayed a pace back from him. Aven could not make her legs work to keep up, and he ended up half dragging, half hauling her into the palace with him.

And she noted he hadn’t called the Fae monarch anything butKing.

“What proceedings?”

Roran kept his gaze straight ahead. “You’d be surprised how quickly things progress when the King desires it. I suspect he wants you to see what happens to mortals who cross too far over the line.”