“It’s a bit…revealing,” Haern said, immediately realizing that was far from the compliment he meant to offer.

Alyssa looked ready to murder him.

“It’s the style there, brought over from Ker by their sailors. Be glad I dressed you in Veldaren fashion. You’d have half your body exposed otherwise.”

Haern scratched at his neck.

“Would it be less poofy?”

“More and more I doubt the wisdom of your assistance,” Zusa said. She ran her hands through her short hair. “At least you are handsome. None would believe me marrying you otherwise.”

“No one’s going to believe it anyway,” Haern said. “I’ve still got scars from when you tried to kill me.”

“You tried to kill Alyssa first, remember?”

“Such doe-eyed lovers,” Alyssa said, sounding the tired mother. “I swear, sometimes I wonder why I brought either of you.”

Haern laughed. He’d feared awkwardness given her station, and his history, but she seemed sincere about her gratitude for what he’d done for her son Nathanial. Currently he was up in the north, under Lord Gandrem’s protection. Haern almost wished he’d come. It would have been nice to have a familiar face around, even if Nathanial had never been conscious when he carried him to safety after an attack by an ambitious lover of Alyssa’s.

Zusa left to change into clothes more suitable for sleeping. While she was gone, the servant returned from the city. At his sour expression, Alyssa urged him to speak. The servant glanced once at Haern, then continued.

“Lord Keenan has cremated them both, and delayed the burial for your arrival,” he said. “He is thankful for your appearance, and looks forward to your company. As for the city…the business with the elves has grown significantly worse. Not long ago, a cloaked man killed the previous elven ambassador and wounded those with him.”