Bartholomew nods, looking both hesitant and eager. “You’ll teach me how to use it?”

“That’s why His Majesty has placed you with me, isn’t it?”

He nods, looking pleased.

I turn to Pranmore. “Where is your horse? We’ll accompany you back to Denmel.”

The elf’s expression becomes oddly solemn. “I do not have a horse, sir knight—”

“Soldier,” Clover interrupts, but when I look at her, her eyes sparkle with friendly amusement instead of holding haughty distaste.

“Oh,” Pranmore pauses, looking stumped. “I do not have a horse, sir…soldier,as I do not feel animals should be disrespected.”

The comment makes me pause, and I have the sudden urge to rub my temples. After several seconds, I say, “Considering there are Woodmore-eating aynauths about, do you think you can make an exception and ride Clover’s horse this one time?”

“And what will I ride?” Clover asks.

“You’ll ride with me.”

Her eyebrows fly up. Ignoring my reaction to her, I turn back to the elf.

Slowly, Pranmore nods. “I can, and I will. From now on, I will do all you ask of me.”

I study him, trying to make sense of his words. “Excuse me?”

“You saved my life—I owe you a life debt, and as an elf who values tradition, I will honor that debt.”

“A life debt?” I deadpan.

“It means—”

“I know what it means.” I breathe in a slow, calming breath through my nose. “Tell me, elf—”

“Pranmore,” Clover corrects.

My lips twitch, but I refuse to give in to the smile. “Pranmore. How long do the Woodmore people serve their life debts?”

He drops to his knees before me. Bowing so low his antlers brush the ground, he vows, “Until I draw my last breath, I will stay by your side, protecting you as well as I am capable.”

The fool elf thinks he’s going to tag along with me for the foreseeable future? What is going on? Why have I suddenly started collecting strays?

I clear my throat. “Please…get up.”

Immediately, Pranmore rises.

“Though I greatly appreciate the sentiment, I will not hold you to the debt. You are free to leave as soon as we reach Denmel.”

“But, sir soldier—”

“If you’re going to serve him for life, you should probably drop the honorifics and call him Henrik,” Clover says.

Looking horrified at the thought, Pranmore exclaims, “I couldn’t possibly use his given name.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself. It just seems that forever is a long time to be so formal.”

And suddenly, I have another headache. “We part in Denmel—"

The elf turns back to me. “I cannot simply leave you. It is myduty.”