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“It would have,” Elwin insisted. “They’ve been a mess, Fitz. And

I’m sure they’ll rush right over the second I tell them you’re awake.”

“Then can we wait?” Fitz asked as Elwin took out his Imparter. “I

don’t think I’m up for a visit yet. I haven’t really talked to them since

the Tribunal, you know? So it’s going to be . . . intense. I should

probably mentally prepare.”

Elwin sighed. “I suppose that’s smart. But I can’t keep this news

from them. So how about I tell them you’re awake but that I’m not

allowing you to talk to anyone or have any visitors until I’ve figured

out how much your emotions can handle?”

“That works,” Fitz agreed. “Thanks.”

Elwin nodded, then headed for his office to hail Alden and Della—

but not without strongly suggesting they try to get some rest.

Fitz was done resting, though.

He had two weeks to catch up on. And he wanted to know

everything.

So Sophie told him what she knew about Biana’s training program.

And about her five multispeciesial bodyguards.

And about Ro’s bizarre reaction to Bo—which they still hadn’t

gotten the details on. Keefe had tried everything he could think of to

pry the secret out of her. He’d even been tormenting her with an epic

poem he’d written—The Ballad of Bo and Ro. But the princess still

hadn’t cracked.

She also told Fitz about the skill training she’d been working on

with Keefe—though she left out the part about how most of the tips

had actually come from Alvar. And she showed him Krakie and Fluffy

and Cheeky and Bitey and Scaley Butt and The Stink—and he agreed

that Keefe won the prize for strangest sense of humor.

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