"Take some chamomile with you. It'll help next time."
Liora gave a soft nod and plucked a few sprigs, then hesitated. "The envoy yesterday... from Elowen. Do you know anything about him?"
Beatrice wiped her hands and sighed. "I know that if Elowen starts sniffing around again, it won't be for trade." She lowered her voice. "And I know that your name, my girl, is beginning to circulate where it shouldn't."
Liora's grip on the basket tightened.
At the same time, across the estate, Lucien sat across from Rowan Vale in the study, a map of the western border stretched before them. "Elowen's troops have been slowly reassigned to the southern pass. Quietly. Almost too quietly," Rowan said.
Lucien frowned. "That's not the usual trade route."
"No," Rowan replied, tapping the edge of the parchment. "But it's the fastest route to slip into the capital. If war is brewing, they'll want to control the grain lines before winter."
"And the court?"
