Reyn was acutely aware of the crowd growing outside. She supposed she should see it as a blessing that for every man shaking his fist or shouting against shifters there were three more making themselves a shield between her tent and the malcontents. Reyn didn't dare poke her head out to get an exact count, but she estimated there were a hundred or more armsmen encircling her.

With all that happened during the first day of marching, it came as little surprise when Ban ordered the legion to halt and make camp well before sunset. Now that the light faded to twilight, and now that news of the shifters in their midst had spread, many of the legion were taking the final hours of the day to voice their displeasure.

It was an issue that needed to be addressed, but Reyn couldn't bring herself to do it. This was an old fear, deeply instilled, now arrived in full. She was exposed, and that meant she would soon die for it. Reyn didn't pray often, but if she ever did, she thought this might have been the time to ask one of the gods that she didn't take Shan Alee down with her.

And so, Reyn focused on the man sitting in the chair in the center of her tent. Preferable for the moment to devote her attention to an enigma than face reality.

"Word of your death appears to have been exaggerated," she said. Reyn stopped pacing to stand behind him.

Dashar shrugged with one shoulder, then he raised a hand to tilt it from side to side.

"I would remind Your Highness, you are the one who suggested we talk. You have not said one word since."

She couldn't see his face to read his expression. Reyn doubted it'd changed at all.

This wasn't her first meeting with the crown prince of Althandor, though she was yet to be convinced she truly was meeting him again. From what she'd observed of "Kai", if he was an imposter, he was well-versed in Dashar's idiosyncrasies. It was as near to a perfect imitation as Reyn could imagine, perhaps too perfect. Death— or near-death, as the case may be— would surely affect some manner of change in a man. The Dashar in front of her was little different from the man she'd met in Altier Nashal.

That had been a brief meeting, true. Reyn had accompanied Princess Pacifica as she requested to speak with the visiting prince. Pacifica presented her concerns about House Karst and the civil war in Altier Nashal, and throughout, Dashar didn't utter a single word. Yet even in silence, he'd spoken volumes. If Kai really was an imposter, he had that aspect of Prince Dashar's presence down cold.

A doppler, Reyn concluded. Only a doppler or skindancer can mimic a human so well, and he's proven beyond doubt he's not a skindancer.

This was, however, Reyn's first time seeing his face. Before, he'd worn the wolf's head cowl Maya now carried. He wasn't what Reyn would call a handsome man; that wide mouth and broad nose didn't sit well on Althandi bone structure. However, Reyn would call him distinctive. It defied logic that he'd passed under the eyes of both the empress and her betrothed without getting recognized. True, Reyn had noted how their eyes lingered on Kai as if they were trying to place where they knew him from, and he seemed an entirely different person without his cowl. Even so, both Enfri and Jin should've known his face on sight. The blindfold couldn't possibly have been enough to disguise him.

Then again, Reyn had the advantage of hindsight. She hadn't recognized him either until she saw his eyes, and even then, only because she couldn't think of any other royal assassin who'd also be a blood mage. It might not have been a subtle ward or something equally magical. Dashar could've escaped detection by the simple fact no one expected to find him among the living, let alone in Shan Alee.

Yet another thing I need to get out of him, Reyn thought. "With your permission, Your Highness, shall we begin?"

Dashar held his tongue, and Reyn took that as a form of acceptance. She readied the washbasin and hair soap.

"If you would remove your garment, Highness."

Dashar made a sound combining a sigh with a growl, then he removed his white priest's robe from around his shoulders. He had thigh-length smallclothes on underneath, as well as a threadbare cotton shirt. At Reyn's insistence, he removed the undershirt, and Reyn tossed it into a corner of the tent reserved for items to be burned.

With his back to her, Reyn had no compulsion against taking in an eyeful of his bare torso. Gods, but the man was put together well. Reyn wouldn't have hesitated to admit to anyone who asked that she bit her lower lip as her gaze swept over the rock-hard muscles of his arms, back, and shoulders. One detail, however, struck her as odd. She'd have expected a man of such fearsome reputation to have flesh adorned with a tapestry of scars from old battle wounds. His was as smooth and unmarred as a newborn's.

For a moment, Reyn believed she'd uncovered proof Kai wasn't Dashar. She quickly remembered that if he was a doppler, the scars would've accompanied the shifting. A doppler's physical mimicry was perfect, down to the smallest freckle. That meant the real Dashar, whether it was Kai or someone else, had never felt the bite of an enemy's blade.

The only thing more intimidating than a warrior with scars is a seasoned warrior without them, Reyn thought. She gave her head a small shake to bring herself back to the moment. "If you would, please lean back."

Dashar complied, and Reyn guided his head to rest in the washbasin. She removed her vest, then used a tin cup to wet his hair in preparation for cleaning. Without thinking, Reyn's eyes went to the front of him. As expected, his chest and stomach were as impressive as his back. Abdominal muscles like a washboard and pectorals that could crack a walnut.

Reyn fought back a gasp. She'd been wrong when she determined he lacked scars. On his sternum was a mass of ridged scar tissue, the remnant of the wound that had supposedly killed him. Would a fatal wound have carried through the blood taken by a doppler? Reyn wasn't sure. She remembered she was supposed to be cleaning Dashar's hair, not ogling his body like a brothel wench peeping into the bath. Reyn finished wetting his hair and began working her fingers through the length of it to loosen the tangles.

Dashar looked up at her with a flat expression.

"I cannot abide soiled hair, Your Highness," Reyn said. "I understand you have had a long road between here in Altier Nashal, but now that you are returned to civilization, it is imperative that a prince of Althandor comport himself with all due dignity."

He arched an eyebrow.

"No offense intended, Your Highness."

He made a soft sound like pfft.

Reyn wished Jin hadn't run off to find Enfri so soon. She'd be immeasurably better suited to learning if Dashar was who he said. Reyn would've even taken Josy under the circumstances. Maybe even Maya. Anyone else, to be frank.

With Enfri gone, Reyn was the acting regent. By law, the ruler of Shan Alee. Not only was she feeling horrifically inadequate to the task, she'd been in the stockades less than a day before, was now known by everyone within five leagues to be a shifter, and had what sounded like a full battalion calling for her to be locked in manacles. All in all, her first time in charge was a rousing failure.

Some of her worries must've made their way onto her face, because Dashar peered up at her through narrowed eyes. When she met his gaze, his eyes flickered towards the tent entrance.

"I assume you saw what I am," Reyn said.

He nodded.

"Humans fear my kind," she said, "but of course, you already knew that."

He nodded again.

Reyn frowned as her thoughts went back to the circumstances around Dashar seeing her true face. "I must thank you, Your Highness. Whether it was your intent or not, you stopped me from killing those men."

Dashar continued to watch her.

"Twice now, that man has dominated me," she said quietly. Her fingers slowed in running through his hair.

His eyes hardened, and he indicated the scar on his chest with three taps of his finger.

"Yes, I imagine you do have experience in such matters."

Dashar shook his head to say she'd misunderstood his meaning. He then held up a clenched fist.

"Duchess Josenthorne?"

He nodded.

"You are saying she and I are alike? That we've suffered the same?"

Again, he nodded.

Reyn sighed. She washed loose hairs from her hands after getting the last of his tangles out. "It is true we were both dominated by Garret, but the duchess received the worse of his domination. I was fortunate to not have been forced to do anything."

Dashar narrowed his eyes and snatched Reyn's hand. He held it in a firm grip as his scarlet eyes bored into her. "What you did doesn't matter. The wound is the same."

Reyn swallowed, and it was difficult to breathe. Logic told her he was wrong. Josy being forced to attack her loved ones was clearly worse. However, Reyn's heart couldn't accept the idea she herself had gotten off easy. No matter what Garret made someone do, those actions weren't theirs to bear. The real crime, the act requiring vengeance, was that he'd dared to take away their will and agency in the first place.

Dashar meant to say the crimes committed against Josy and Reyn were equal.

"As you say," Reyn whispered.

While she reached for the jar of hair soap, Reyn heard a new commotion outside the tent. Someone was shouting at the soldiers outside with all the righteous anger a knight-marshal could muster.

"Disperse already," Ban bellowed. "Back to your bedrolls. We've a forced march tomorrow to reach Sandharbor, and any man too daft to take sleep beforehand will get left where he falls."

"We won't march on the orders of that shifter," someone shouted back.

The rumbling outside died as if it'd had its throat slit.

Ban's voice returned in the dreadful silence that followed. "That shifter," he growled, just outside Reyn's tent, "is the duly appointed first minister of Shan Alee. That shifter has struck more blows for our empire than the lot of you wadded together. I would sooner entrust my life and that of the Dragon Empress herself to that shifter than I ever would to a pack of floundering cowards terrified of a race they only know through rumor." Ban let his words sink in before resuming. "This is Empress Enfri's Shan Alee. Her ideals will rule the empire, and that ideal is a kingdom where any people may live in peace. That includes dragons, fey, and even shifters. You will accept that, or you have no place in her legion. Have I made myself clear?"

There was more discontented rumbling.

"Good," Ban barked. "Now floundering disperse!"

The sound of the crowds leaving faded into the evening air.

"Keep these guards close by, Hugin," Ban said. "Through the night. They can ride out the march tomorrow on dragon back."

"Aye, my lord. The minister won't have problems."

"Good man, and I want the names of anyone making noise over this. We won't send them to the stockades just yet, but I want them watched."

When Ban was done speaking with the Lord of Emeralds, he entered the tent to find Reyn with a scowl on her face. Ban wasn't in armor but in his gray dress uniform, a long double-breasted coat with gold-plated epaulets bearing the Ruby Knight sigil on the shoulders. The wounds he'd taken in the fight against the Ulthred's men were gone, healed through his bond with Kimpo. He secured the tent flap behind him once he was inside.

Ban blinked when he saw Reyn's stormy expression, then endeavored to ignore it as he addressed Dashar. "Your Highness, I must say it's a surprise to have you with us."

Dashar nodded to him as best he could while Reyn was cleaning his hair.

Ban's mouth pulled into a line. "I... err... hope the first minister is... Waves, Reyn, what are you two doing?"

Reyn wasn't inclined to give an explanation, but she felt one was needed from him. "Marshal, the empress isn't in the habit of suppressing opinion she disagrees with. By what right do you ask for the names of those men, as if they are suspected of criminal intent?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Having the right to an opinion doesn't make it an opinion worth listening to, or tolerated."

"Hypocritical, my lord?"

If Ban was surprised to receive opposition on the matter from a shifter, he didn't show it. "People are defined both by what they do and do not tolerate. They don't tolerate shifters. I don't tolerate bigots. They hold opinions anathema to the world I'm going to make for my white one. The fools who speak against you will speak against her. Compromise isn't acceptable."

"And that makes you any different or better?"

Ban smirked. "Sure does."

Reyn was satisfied by that answer. The tension left her shoulders. She let go of the scowl she wore around him, and she trusted it wouldn't return. "Thank you, my lord."

"Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum. Not while armsmen I command still give you the stink eye."

Reyn took that as a promise he wasn't done acting on her behalf. To Ban Karst, protecting shifters was part of protecting his unborn child. The concerns intersected, inseparable from one another. Even so, Reyn suspected he would do the same for her even if he wasn't about to be the father of a half-fey child.

Ban looked around the tent as he continued. "Which takes us to another issue. The weres among the pilgrims. Your Highness, were you aware some of the people you were guiding were shifters?"

Dashar grunted and shook his head.

"How are they?" Reyn asked.

"Scared," Ban replied. "Understandably scared. The human Aleesh, also. Funny enough, the armsmen Garret dominated were the first to stick up for them. Guilt, maybe, or they're grateful for the restraint the weres showed in not tearing their throats out."

"Are they also under guard?" she asked.

Ban nodded. "I put all six Rubies on it, and about twenty unbound dragons volunteered. The mighty aren't letting anyone near them. The pilgrims have a lot to sort through amongst themselves, and I'm inclined to give them all the time they need."

Dashar made a sharp cutting gesture with his hand.

"I don't think so," Ban said. "Goodman Marchand was surprised as the rest to learn about the shifters, but he's still calling the weres his people. I think the Aleesh are used to pulling together enough that they won't let this divide them."

Reyn rinsed the soap from Dashar's hair and guided him to sit up. She used a towel to dry his head. He had more hair than she expected, and it seemed even longer when it was clean. It straightened out beautifully and only needed a little effort to set into order. Reyn was growing a little jealous of it. When she took away the towel, Dashar's hair reached to his shoulder blades.

She was reaching for a pair of shears to give him a trim when she caught the incredulous look Ban was giving her. Reyn blushed and took a step back. "I am finished, Your Highness. I had clothes delivered for you."

Dashar rose to his feet and looked over the garments lying on Reyn's cot. He stared impassively at the assortment of doublets and chose a simple cotton shirt and trousers. Once he pulled them on, he wore the white robe over them.

Ban took a step towards him. "I'll be blunt. Last word we had, two shifters stole your body. Is there any way you know of to prove you're who you say you are?"

Dashar let out a long breath through his nose, then shook his head.

"Until we can confirm you're you, I have to assume you're not."

He nodded in acceptance. "I will give my testimony."

Ban crossed his arms and made a beckoning gesture with his hand.

Dashar grimaced. He was clearly uncomfortable with the prospect of speaking. He wouldn't look directly at either of them. "I did not die. Wounded, and blood magic preserved my life."

"Ah," Ban breathed. "Krayson said something like that. Healing during a death-like state is a spell used by blood runners. Waves, but he even said Enfri wouldn't be able to tell the difference between stasis and death."

"I didn't heal fully," Dashar said. "The shifters forced my hand. Awake or die."

"We should get you to the Citrine Knights, in that case," Ban said. "We have some of the best healers in the world. It might even be best if we send you ahead to the empress. Your cousins are with her."

Dashar turned his head away.

"If I may ask," Reyn said. "Why have you not revealed yourself to them?"

"I didn't come for them," Dashar whispered. "I didn't come for you, or your empress."

"Yet you were guiding Goodman Marchand and the other Aleesh to us," Reyn pointed out.

"To near you," he corrected, "until I was no longer needed."

"Why help them at all?" Ban asked.

"Killing them is wrong. Not helping them was killing them."

Ban uncrossed his arms. "Your uncle commands all Aleesh to die."

"A choice," Dashar said. "Do as commanded, or do right. The king's command is wrong. My duty is to disobey."

Reyn exchanged a look with Ban. It almost sounded like they were being told what they wanted to hear.

"Something you should be made aware of," Ban said. "We've received word from our agent in the City of Althandor. A man claiming to be Crown Prince Dashar Algara has returned to the Palace of Towers."

"Vintus' doppler," Dashar growled. "It will no longer be able to change forms after taking mine."

"Because you are a blood mage," Reyn said. "The doppler's imprint is now cracked in the same way and can no longer change itself."

"Not until I kill him," Dashar said.

Reyn looked to Ban. "He is correct. Even a doppler who has become a blood mage will revert to their natural form upon death."

"I have killed dopplers before," Dashar added. "And selkies."

Reyn swallowed.

"Murderers, rebels, or Courtesans. I kill for the Five Kingdoms." He pointed at Reyn. "Not you. Shan Alee will be of the Five Kingdoms. That was the promise Maya gave."

Ban took a step forward. "But you are Cathis' heir."

"For now, but my abdication was decided years ago. Maya will be queen, and I will serve the Althandor she leads. For that, I will protect the Aleesh. I will protect Shan Alee."

Reyn remained quiet for a long moment, absorbing his words, before she pointed out the contradiction. "You helped Goodman Marchand long before you could have learned of Empress Enfri's fealty to Princess Maya."

Dashar's eyes remained on the ground, and he smiled. "That wasn't for Maya. That was for Enfri. Repayment for reminding me what Jin's smile looks like."

If there was a time for hydromancy, Reyn believed it was now. She looked at Ban and arched an eyebrow.

Ban chewed his lip. "Waves take me, but he's telling the truth. Whether that means he's him or a doppler really devoted to the role, I still can't really say." He scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground. "Waves and tides, but there's little else we can do, save take him to Jin and get her read on the situation."

Dashar turned towards them and shook his head. "No. You must not tell her I was here."

"Oh, come off it," Ban said, exasperated. "Why not?"

"It is not yet the time," he replied evenly. "I came here by chance, and by chance I learned of a greater danger I must see to."

"And what would that be?" Reyn asked.

Dashar looked her in the eye. "You were put under a wilt curse."

"You are well-informed," Reyn muttered. "What's that got to do with anything? A Courtesan tried to have me killed. Not the first time, and I doubt it will be the last."

Ban reached for her and latched onto her wrist. His eyes never left Dashar. "You learned the name?"

Dashar nodded.

"And it really was..."

He nodded again.

"Komali?" Reyn asked, incredulous.

"Komali," Dashar repeated. "Or, as she was known after being granted title and appointed as Melcia's ambassador to Althandor, Lady Tarim the Komali. My bride before my blood magic turned her into a monster."

Reyn felt dizzy. Essence of all spirits take me and throw me in the trash heap, she thought. I bought sex off the crown prince of Althandor's wife.

Ban took a step closer to Dashar, surreptitiously putting himself between Reyn and the royal assassin she'd cuckolded. "And you mean to go looking for Princess Tarim in Drok Moran?"

"After I find Tarim, only then will I reveal myself. A second life cannot begin until the sins of the last one are atoned for. I would have your word."

Ban frowned. "That's a tall order. I'm not of a mind to keep secrets from Enfri."

"Her, you may tell. She will see the reason why."

Ban made a reluctant noise and scratched at the back of his head. "Waves. I don't much like asking Enfri to keep secrets from her betrothed either. Nothing but trouble. But other than that, I don't really have reasons for asking you to stick around. And, it's not like we could keep you if we wanted to."

Dashar shrugged.

"Alright," Ban sighed. "You have my word. Jin won't hear it from me or from Reyn."

Reyn swallowed. "My word on it," she said meekly.

Dashar looked at her, and there was a little smirk on his face. It gave Reyn the sudden urge to slap him. He turned away and retrieved his blindfold from Reyn's cot. After he tied it in place, he took up his walking staff.

"Going immediately?" Ban asked.

Dashar nodded.

"All you meant to talk about was to get our promise?"

He held up a single finger. "And make a promise of my own. I will not stand against Shan Alee when Maya calls for you."

"Glad to hear it," Ban said. "Maybe we might fight side by side again."

"I expect we will. Only next time, we will be fighting my family."

Ban let out a long breath. "Well then, winds guide you, Your Highness."

Dashar said nothing further and left the tent.

They stood in silence for a long moment before Ban turned to Reyn. "So, did your life just flash before your eyes when he mentioned the prostitute, or was that just me?"

Reyn socked him on the arm.

"Hey, that reminds me," Ban said as he rubbed at his shoulder, "I've been promised my weight in Aleesh artifacts if I can convince you to drop in on Lord Darian."

"Ugh." Reyn crossed her arms and turned her back on him.

"He brought along some really nice mugs. Old as spite and a little chipped, but they'd hold a lot of ale. I could float you a set."

"I have no intention of speaking with that idiot man," Reyn snapped.

"As you say," Ban said, though he also had that particular tone which suggested it wasn't for agreement's sake. "But as an idiot man, I should point out that idiot men can't always tell what we did wrong unless it's been spelled out."

Reyn rounded on Ban, her eyes flashing with outrage. "If you knew what it was he did, you would not defend him for an instant."

"Fair enough, because I have no idea at all what he did to piss you off."

"He should know what he did."

Ban frowned. "And doesn't the fact he doesn't make you wonder if you got all the facts?"

That gave Reyn pause. "I... There could be no one else. It must have been Darian."

Ban raised his palms as he backed up to leave the tent. "Like I said, no idea what the issue is, and I don't expect you to explain it. Not my place to know if I don't know. I just could really use these navigational instruments he's offering."

Reyn shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Very well," she sighed. "Tell Lord Darian... I will meet with him." If nothing else, I want to hear it from his mouth how he betrayed Old Ham to the Lady Tarlen. "Tomorrow. On the march. I don't have the energy left to put up with him today."

"As you say," Ban said. He opened the tent flap and put a foot outside. "And for what it's worth, just say the word, and I'll wrap him up with a bow to send to Cathis. He strikes me as a shady type. I knew someone like him once. Didn't like him."

"Oh?" Reyn asked. "Who might that have been?"

Ban shrugged. "Me. I was a real tosser most of my life."

It was tempting to say something snide, but Reyn restrained herself. Knowing Ban would remain in her corner whatever venom she threw his way removed all point of giving it. "I am pleased to see you grew out of that, my lord. Mostly, at least. Rippling Moon is a fortunate woman."

His eyes brightened over a wide grin. "About the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I knew there was a reason Moon likes you."

"Go to your mate, Marshal," Reyn warned, "or I will do all in my power to steal her from you."

Ban dropped the grin. "Waves, but I think you mean it."

Now Reyn was the one grinning. "Is that worry I hear? Do you fear I might succeed?"

He pointed a finger at her. "I'm not answering that. It's that Voice of yours. Twitterpates fey like nothing else."

"My Voice can only cultivate obsession where an attraction already exists."

Ban covered his ears. "I didn't hear that. I definitely didn't hear that. Goodnight, Minister."

Reyn held back from laughing as Ban fled from her tent. She wondered if Rippling Moon might be the next person she gave Breath to, if only to put Ban's jealousy to rest. It wasn't an unpleasant thought. Moon was awfully pretty.

Her bright mood wasn't to last. At once, she recalled the promise she'd given Ban, that she'd speak with Darian. It was a conversation she never intended to have. She'd rather have tea with a demon than Darian and not only because of what she assumed he'd done to her. Now there was a new fear, one she never expected to have. If she truly was wrong about Darian, that would mean her reasons for hating him, for not being in love with him any longer, would disappear.

Reyn put away the washbasin and the hair soap. By the time she was done, she realized she had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away.

"I wish Starra was here," she said to the empty tent. It almost startled her to hear the words come out of her mouth. She'd never admitted her need for that dratted lush of a vampire to anyone. Not even to herself. But it was true. "For many reasons. I need my Starra."

"Lucky for you, I'm back."

Reyn whirled towards the front of her tent to find Starra stepping inside.

"Just got back," Starra said. She folded her hands in front of her and dropped her eyes. "Dear one, I heard what happened. I'm so..."

She didn't have the chance to finish before Reyn seized her in her arms. Without wasting another second, Reyn kissed her. She held Starra by the neck and held her tight so she could never be separated from her again.

Starra pulled back and took in a deep gasp of air. She smiled broadly, showing her fangs as she wiped the tears from Reyn's cheeks. "Bloody hell. I don't think I could've imagined a finer welcome."

Reyn backed away and pulled Starra along with her. Towards the cot. "That is a lie, mon trésor," she said breathlessly. "We both know you have imagined what comes next."

Starra gave a token resistance only. "If... you're sure. I meant what I said. I mean to court you."

"You are here," Reyn whispered. She kissed Starra again. "You are here when I needed you. I am thoroughly courted."

Starra's hold on Reyn's hands tightened. "I haven't even told you what we learned about Prince Dashar. There's a lot to go over."

"It can wait." Reyn pulled her shirt off over her head and sat down on the cot. "Make love to me."

Starra flung off her winter coat and unfastened her bodice. "Oui, Mademoiselle."

By the time Starra was undressed and beside her on the cot, Reyn had a privacy ward locked in place. She included a few additional wards to make it exceedingly clear she wouldn't tolerate being disturbed. Insistent and painful wards.

"Dear one," Starra said softly. She plucked something up off the blankets and held it up between them. "Would you mind telling me to whom this lustrous black hair belonged to?"

Reyn swatted the hair away. She'd explain about the possible Dashar in due time. It was just that now wasn't that time. "You are asking inane questions when you should be biting my thighs."

Starra sighed as she tugged Reyn's leggings off. "Nothing but work, work, work. By your command, Minister."

A little too late, Reyn thought she should've clarified she hadn't meant for Starra to draw blood. As soon as Starra's fangs sank into her flesh, her mind fuzzed, and she knew only Starra's touch.