ELIA
Dear, Lord, this was what Reth had meant when he'd been so upset about her slipping her guards, when he'd begged her not to let others know where the loyalty of his heart lay.
She'd had no idea.
Elia clung to the back of Reth's shirt, terrified that someone was going to pull them apart. She stood on the balls of her feet, poised for flight. She would not leave him. They would have to tear her away. Despite his distraction, he still held his hand back, penning her behind him.
"When?" Reth said, his voice dead. "When will the people hear this?"
Brant glanced at Aymora, then sighed. "Tonight. What point is there in delaying?"
Reth raised a shaking hand to push through his hair. "You will let Elia and I speak the full story?"
"Yes."
"And you will not let the wolves distract—"
