Adelyn touched his arm before she slipped away. He had made his choice.
And so had she.
Amid all the wide skirts, high collars, and towering headdresses, she felt small and insignificant. Not a sensation a musetta knew well. She embraced it since no one looked her way. She wove between the courtiers and edged up behind the fluttering handmaid.
“EveStar,” she said quietly, nudging back the veil around her face.
The handmaid recoiled. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you find—” She bit her lip. “Come.” She whisked Adelyn behind the hulking steel throne.
“I don’t have time to lie and dissemble and tease—” Adelyn started.
“Well then, you are no phae,” EveStar snapped.
Under other circumstances, Adalyn might have laughed. But she held herself straighter and looked the other phae in the eye. “Are you a friend to the runaways?”
“The rebellion, you mean?”
The proud anger in the handmaid’s voice actually made Adelyn relax a notch. “Why are you the Queen’s handmaid when you want to be free?”
Bitterness hardened the elegant golden phae to something steely, sword-like. “I might never be free, but I can still be a guide. Why did we survive the Iron Age, just to retreat here within our own illusions?” EveStar gripped her hand. “Is that why you came back? To hide again? I thought you understood we need to find another way.”
Adelyn grimaced. “I didn’t understand at first. Not at all. But you can’t keep sending phae as you have. That way will be closed.” Her fault. “The Hunter’s valley is under attack.”
EveStar swayed a little. “Then it is over. For all of us.”
“No. I brought you a new way in.” Adelyn took a deep breath. “I have cuttings from the valley ferns that will take phae around Vaile’s wards. But the spores aren’t ready yet. You’ll have to sprout them here, in secret.”
EveStar tightened her grip. “I will. But you have to—”