“Don’t think about that,” he muttered. He’d gotten this far, hadn’t he? If he could willingly reveal the deepest secret about who he was, then he could certainly hand a bunch of papers to a servant and ask to see the elf.
Roxanne had told him he could be himself in Allentria—and though her words had been offered in a different context, Fletcher decided he wanted to be brave like his friends. So he straightened his back, doing his best impersonation of a puffed-up nobleman, and climbed the steps.
More guards stood on either side of the vaulted doorway that opened into the entrance gallery. They didn’t acknowledge Fletcher as he ascended. He crossed the palace threshold and the cold vanished at once. A tingling warmth spread through him, and for a split-second he relaxed. His worry returne
