Briar's words chilled me to the bone, but the haunted look in her eyes made the feeling even worse. Something had happened back there, something she refused to tell me. Curiosity tugged at me like an anxious child.

No, it was an actual child.

"Foxglove?" I looked down to see Destiny, Clover's little girl, holding up a plate. "Do you want some pie? Papa and I made it." The thing with little children was that they were just too cute for their own good. Saying no to them? Impossible. Especially Clo's kid.

That pie was the best food I had tasted in a while. Every visit to Inkspill Cottage resulted in amazing home cooked meals. Jealousy inspiring home cooked meals. After months of army gruel, you take what you can get. The last time we visited, Dante had to drag Vivienne out so that we could leave on time.

Destiny watched us eat, satisfied that the pie was being eaten. Definitely Ambrose's kid. Ambrose would always cook for us whenever he and Clover were asked to come back, scrambling up whatever he could forage for. And he always seemed to make it work.

It'd been a few hours since my argument with Briar. Clover had come in, telling us that she was asleep again and not to disturb her. It was worrying, really, the amount that she was sleeping. The brand on her shoulder had been really infected, causing her earlier deliriousness- and trying to get rid of that fever was exhausting. To all our surprise, a moving pile of blankets wandered into the sitting room, plopping down beside Destiny. As soon as that happened, the whole room fell silent- except for Destiny, who was crawling into Briar's sad little blanket cave. And she let her in, no fighting it.

For the ten years I'd known Briar, she'd been one of the fiercest women I had ever met. And now....most of the fire in her eyes seemed to be gone. Only when provoked would the woman I knew return, it seemed.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" I asked Dante, who'd been reassuring Vivienne constantly since we'd arrived at the cottage.

He nodded, a strand of hair escaping his perfectly maintained ponytail. Always immaculate and spotless. "She's thinner than she should be, and has several infected wounds. But if we give her some time and space, maybe she'll bounce back."

Maybe. Not the answer I would've liked, but seemed to be the only one I'd receive. "That's not reassurance enough."

"Do I need to remind you that you know Briar better than any of us?" He met my gaze, daring me to argue. "Who approached her, unaware at first that she was royalty, and asked her to spar with him?"

"I did.."

"And who treated her like an equal instead of bashfully bowing and murmuring?"

Yet again the answer was me. "Yes, but Dante, we were fifteen and sixteen. Things change."

My friend shook his head. "Times may change, but you guys haven't."

Was that true? I supposed it could be. Over the years, through training and battles, we'd gone from strangers to inseparable friends. Clover and Ambrose had left shortly after our training, as Clover was carrying her youngest at the time, but we were still extremely close to them. But Briar and I? We were the originals of the group.

"I bet she can still beat senseless into the dirt."

"I wouldn't doubt that." Vivienne piped up.

Glancing over at Briar, who hadn't moved even slightly within the past hour, I sighed. Of course, Dante was right, I just needed to give her some time to heal. She'd been a prisoner of war, beaten and starved and who knew what else?

"I can hear what you cottonheads are saying." She called, not taking her eyes off of the roaring blue fire Clover had set in the fireplace. "You don't have to tiptoe around me. I'm not just some delicate, liberated prisoner."

"Stop acting like it, then," Dante replied, "And maybe we will."

Briar grit her teeth, but said nothing else. Perhaps that was wise. Stupid things could be said with anger, and I had said my best share of them. And had said them to her.

"Look, there's nothing for you to mope around for. I'm fine." Her emotions betrayed more than she was saying. "I would've continued to be fine, if you hadn't interfered."

"We came out there to rescue you." Dante pointed out. "And what do we find? A babbling idiot instead of the future queen."

"I'm not the future queen. Just because my father named me heir, doesn't mean that I'll ascend to the throne. Did you know that Lympia was pregnant before I left? Bet she's had her baby by now, a new little one that my father will coo over and adore. I'll be forgotten."

Tears rose to Briar's eyes and threatened to spill over as she tucked the blanket further around herself.

"For Taloa's sake, you made her cry!" Destiny popped her head out of the blanket, startling us all as she reached a tiny hand up to wipe away Briar's tears. "Mama says she's been through a lot. Don't be mean to her."

Scolded by a five year old. The same five year old who baked and begged her parents for bedtime stories constantly. "Clover's taught her well," I mumbled to Vivienne, who grinned as she nodded.

"Say you're sorry, Dante." The kitsune child commanded, looking extremely serious about the whole thing. "Or I'll...Put a sleeping draught in your next meal!"

"That's too far, Dessy." Her older brother, Beau- a quiet boy of ten, called from the corner of the room where he had been whittling away at some project or another. Whether it was soap, rock, or a wood carving, the kid always seemed to have something in his hand. "Don't resort to violence."

His sister's only response was a scowl and to stick her tongue out, adamant that she was in the right and he was in the wrong. It reminded me of my sisters- except they were more mischievous and murderous. Anubia and Donia loved to drag unsuspecting humans off of ships and drag them down below, a messed up game I'd never been able to understand. My mother would only pet my head and tell me that I'd learn to love it when I grew older- but the only killing I did was if it was necessary. To hide my secret, or to defend the remaining free kingdoms from Amira's tyrannical reach.

My father was a fae noble. My mother? A sea witch, and one of the most respected of the merfolk. None of my friends knew about this, and maybe they never would. Half bred children were considered an offense- and some kingdoms automatically murdered the babies if they were found out. And so many of us hid in plain sight, disguising the marks that identified us as half breeds. For me, it was gills, and the webbing that appeared between my fingers if I got too close to water. Some covered their ears or hid their tails, and I'd even met an Althaeban half breed whose father had sliced the scales off of him, leaving deep scars.

"I'm sorry, Briar." Dante sighed. "I shouldn't have taunted you or pried into what happened."

"I'll accept your apology. Now, come on, Dessy, I promised your mother I'd put you to bed." Standing up and extending a hand to the child, Briar led her out of the room.