Tillia’s arm dropped to her heart as she exhaled. “Thank Arabella.” Why was she thanking the God of Love? Unless… The Guardian had returned. The riders in front of us shifted, making room for a man galloping through the heart of our party, straight our way. I recognized him from the throne room. He was one of Zavier’s rangers, the man with long, black braids pulled into a knot at his nape who’d checked Father’s chest of gold coin. And his eyes were locked on Tillia. She brought her horse to a stop, waiting with her hand still pressed over her heart. The moment the ranger reached her side, he
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