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“You all right?” he snapped, as if Eirwen was somehow to blame for last night’s events.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He sat down beside her. “That boy of yours came last night.”

“If you mean Cole, I would hardly call him ‘that boy of mine.’”

“Hmph. He was in quite the state when he heard what happened to you.”

“We spoke. I’m sure he’s gotten over it.”

“He likes you.”

“I am distinctly likable.”

“I don’t mean like that.”

Eirwen turned away sharply. “I’m sure you’re wrong.”

“Doesn’t happen often.”

“What about the time with the one-armed apothecary and the monkey–”

“Anyway,” he snipped, “you should be careful there.”

“Careful about what, exactly?”

“Precisely.”

Eirwen groaned. “You are impossible.”

“Aye, that I am. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Fine.” She drank the dregs of her cup. “How’s the plan of yours coming along?”

“It’s coming,” he said. “Complicated slightly by the fact the Queen now knows our location.”

Eirwen shivered. “I know,” she said. “That… that wasn’t Niamh last night, was it?”

Onyx shook his head. “Not if the prince is to be believed.”

“So she can disguise herself as anyone.”

He nodded. “We need to be more careful. Vet anyone that arrives into the camp–”

“The truth ring,” Eirwen said.

“I’ve already sent Wren to get it.”

“How… how did she know where we were to begin with?”

“Another good question,” he said. “Someone could have told her, of course. But I wonder if she hasn’t some other means of finding you.”

“If that was the case, she would have come for me years ago, wouldn’t she?”

Onyx did not meet her gaze.

“What? What is it?”