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Roan tried not to stare at the newcomers. He'd seen elves before, of course, but certainly none that were dressed like these. The elf in charge—Rogai was his name—was discussing trade with Roan's captain.
It seemed this strange new kingdom wanted to be on good terms with Kader. Or at least Sumarr. He'd heard rumors that the Provider's ambassadors were prohibited from meeting with the Islorians on orders from Sumarr's governor. Some even claimed they'd been locked up.
Roan suspected the governor was plotting something. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to undermine the king. But who was he to—
"Roan!" a familiar voice shouted to his left.
He turned, eyes wide. "Mother?"
She pulled him into an embrace before he could say more.
"Mother, what are you doing here?!" he wheezed out when she stopped crushing his lungs.
"Take this horrid thing off so I can look at you." She yanked the helmet from his head. "What's this? Haven't you been shaving?"
Roan abruptly realized the elves and his captain were all staring at him.
"Excuse me," he muttered, face reddening.
Taking Annora by the arm, he dragged her farther down the shore.
"Is this how a son should treat his mother, Roan?!" she snapped, stumbling over rocks. "Unhand me!"
"I thought you were in Revanna," he said, letting go.
She sniffed. "I'm doing very well, thank you for your concern."
"Mother," he sighed. "What happened?"
"I don't appreciate your tone, boy. Now are we going to have a civil discussion, or—"
"You haven't answered even one of my questions," he growled. "You can't walk into my life again with no explanation, completely ignore my station, and speak to me like a child!"
"No!" he plowed over her. "Leave. Find a room at the Bounty and wait for me. I'll call on you when I'm ready."
Her eyes bulged and she opened her mouth to scream her disapproval.
"You have your orders, woman." Roan whirled around and left her, mouth still hanging open, standing on the beach.