It was one of the books Keeper Martin had shown him. Emel nodded as if he understood. He had assumed it was a book of Kingdom lore, now he wasn’t so sure—and if the book wasn’t penned by Kingdomers, then what about the things he had read? What did they mean then? Were they lies? Was it true they were secrets kept from commoners to guard the past?

She continued, “It holds truths no few wish to know.”

“Or lies,” Emel shot back.

“Subject to interpretation, yes.”

“Whose interpretation?” Emel waited. Galia smiled, didn’t reply. He could tell she liked this verbal sparring. He pushed. “Do you know of the elves too?”

“There is little I don’t know,” Galia said proudly.

Emel couldn’t tell if she was bragging or lying. “What is King William to you?”

“What is he to you?”

Emel didn’t have to think about his answer. He said immediately, “A friend.”

Galia was agitated with the turn of the conversation. Her mount apparently felt this too, and reared. A king cat on its hind legs with front paws outstretched was more than enough to spook Emel’s Ebony.

To regain control Emel charged up the trail. He didn’t look back, though in that moment he knew he may never see what he was leaving behind again. As he climbed the mountain trail he thought of Galia and the book. Soon after his thoughts went to Adrina and Myrial.

He loved them both in his own way. Adrina was the princess he’d always dreamed of marrying as a boy, but knew from experience, his father’s condemnation of their friendship in particular, that someone of his station could never marry a princess. Myrial was the loyal friend who had endured hardship and stayed true. She had a simple beauty, a purity of heart that attracted him.

“Goodbye,” he whispered to the wind and to them, gripping the orb in its leather pouch. “Goodbye.”