“I’ve figured out the spell to open the passage to Gaia. It’s about a couple pages and will be effective if all of us do it at the same time. It required twenty witches but Sera has the power of the goddess so we should be able to manage it but . . .”
“But?” I asked, not liking the sound of this.
“It might be dangerous.”
I waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, I clasped his shoulder again to prompt him. “What do you mean?”
“That’s all it says. Dangerous. They didn’t elaborate on how or why, at least not with a good reason. Just that a vision from the past stated the Holy Pair might be angered if we kept interfering with balance and rifts.”
Again with the visions.
“But Aereala is sending us there through Bianca, so it shouldn’t matter, right?” I asked, thumbing the back of Micah’s hand. I’d spoken to the skies a couple times, asking her whether we were doing the right thing, but she’d stopped using her thunder to communicate.
When touching Micah, the warm humming buzzed through me, reminding me he was still safe. The wounded image of him kept coming back. It could take me a while to get over it—maybe never at all.
“Right,” Micah said. “Rylan might want to hear of this. We’d be putting Constanria in danger, even though we don’t know what it might be.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
He leveled his cool, blue gaze at me. “You should know, if it were just me, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d open the gate, regardless of what happens to Constanria, only to save you, Sera.”
“That’s—”
His gaze darkened, turning intense, and I froze, my heart skittering.
“But you wouldn’t want that,” Micah said, perhaps sensing my nervousness.
I crackled a smile, shaky laughter rattling from my throat. “No, I don’t think I’d like living knowing that I ruined an entire kingdom just to stay alive.”
“Damn,” Frederick said from beside us. “If Torley said that to me, I’d lose it.”
“Must you always ruin romantic moments?” I asked Frederick. I completely forgot he was listening in.
“That’s me. Frederick. Ruiner of Romantic Moments and Maker of Vegetable Puns. Add that in a history book.”
“Sure,” I muttered. “It’ll look so fearsome next to Rayse, First King of Constanria and the Black Dread of the Realms.”
He had broken the tension between Micah and me, so Micah placed a bookmark in the tome and shut it. “I’m almost finished with the spell,” Micah said. He slid me off him gently but still absentmindedly lingered his touch over me. “It’ll take a couple more days, but I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I need to report my findings to Rylan.” A deep crinkle formed between his brow.
But as Micah strode away, a toppling sound echoed from behind me. Frederick and I turned around to inspect the commotion, and we saw Bianca picking up the books she’d accidentally spilled onto the ground. Apparently, she’d been hanging around in the Intelligence Council more because the people around here loved her paintings and personality. It had taken a while to finish the ones commissioned by the members. Micah moved toward my sister and helped her, and I spotted the grazing of their hands. They’d barely touched each other, but the sight was enough to make jealousy flare through me.
“Sera?” Frederick said.
“I hate her,” I blurted, even though I’d been trying to convince myself that Bianca was merely trying to be friendly. “Is that wrong?”
“She seems awfully nice,” Frederick replied.
Micah quickly helped Bianca with the books. He left immediately after, clearly not paying much mind to my sister. Bianca turned around and waved Micah off, wearing a gratingly friendly smile as she said goodbye.
“Yeah,” I said. “And that just makes hating her even easier.”
Chapter Eleven
“No! Absolutely not, Your Majesty!” Elder Tindyll said, pushing herself from her seat. “We cannot open the portal. The first queen ordered the migration spell banished for a reason.”
During throne room meetings these days, I no longer sat among the officials at the bottom but shared my seat next to Rylan and his brothers. Queen Dowager Miriel had skipped this meeting, like most other meetings. She was still too busy grieving. It had been a year, but her relationship with King Gisiroth had lasted hundreds.
The throne room looked different sitting up here. It gave me a false sense of importance. Previously, being in the crowd, trying to listen and get a word in, made me feel so small. Next to Rylan, everything in the throne room projected toward me. This position gave me a good vantage. I saw Frederick in the distance, talking to Torley and probably making more terrible vegetable puns.
Bianca and my father sat close to the front. I wasn’t quite sure why they were here, but Rylan hadn’t stopped them, and Father seemed eager to drag my sister to important meetings whenever he could. Theo Cadriel had grown plump in the days we hadn’t seen each other. He used to be thin, albeit muscular, due to having to clean out the latrines. These days, his hollowed stomach bloated to three times its size, and the strong musculature he previously bore had faded, replaced by a pudgy look.
His eyes, however, were the same. They ghosted past me each time we crossed paths. He continued to view me as an inconvenience. But when his gaze crossed Bianca, it brightened. She was his perfect, infallible daughter. Every so often, as he glanced at me, I’d see a flicker of gratitude over his face. He wasn’t completely blind to the fact that I’d given them so much, and when he’d first arrived at the palace, he’d even said thank you to me. Regardless, prejudices were hard to shed, and he was always one to play favorites.
Because of our parents, it was impossible to shed the bad blood between Bianca and me.
“Your Majesty,” Tindyll said, continuing her argument. She dressed in plain robes today and had her hair tied in a coiffed bun. “Your father would never have agreed to this. Do not be foolish. He’d put the country first, above all else. We have a solution. The goddess will come take Sera—”
Rylan growled and pushed himself from his seat. “I don’t like the way you’re talking to me, Tindyll. I think you forget your place. I think you’ve let your comfortable position in the council blind you to the real strata of power here.”
Tindyll sat back into her seat. She adjusted herself, eyes darting about, and cupped her arms to her chest. I never realized just how clearly King Gisiroth could see everyone’s expressions from this position. Anger flashed across her face briefly, and she muttered something underneath her breath. A curse, perhaps?
Rylan had been considering demoting her from position as head and replacing her with Gaius. It wasn’t good to have his underlings constantly questioning and vehemently condemning his decisions. At this rate, it was only a matter of time.
Rylan sighed and slumped back onto his throne. When we first began these throne room meetings, he seemed nervous, like he was wary about how people would view him, and how they might accept him as king. He’d grown into his role. He was more assured of his power and authority. The old Rylan would have sat rigidly, stiffening his posture, thinking that appearing taller would command others’ respect. He now perched with a slack posture, not caring for what they thought of his seating position because he already knew the council members held him in esteem.
He danced his fingers over the arms of his chair and shook his head. “I’m here to give you all a warning for what is to come, since that is my due diligence as your king. I am not here to ask for your opinions. We will be opening the portal to Gaia, and there will be no arguments against it.”
My heart leapt to my throat. I didn’t think Rylan would come to this decision so quickly. What of the danger the witches had warned of? The rest of the council shared the same surprise I felt and immediately erupted into hushed whispers.
“May I ask why, Your Majesty?” an elder from the Council of Fortitude said, rising from his seat. His gaze rested on me, and I heard
the unspoken question hanging between his words—Is this because of Sera?
“Because there is a famine at our doorstep,” Rylan replied, voice wrung tight from annoyance. “Sera’s power might not hold up for long, and we need to be searching for alternatives.”
“But there is one, is there not? The goddess has contacted Sera. She will be coming.”
I saw anger flash across Rylan’s eyes briefly. “And what if that doesn’t work?”
“It is Aereala—”
“I won’t hear any more of this. The decision has been made.” Rylan turned from the elder to address the rest of his subjects. “I believe we’ve finished the important details. Is there anything else to raise to my attention?” I felt all their accusatory gazes on me. They’d warmed up to me since I had provided them food. Still, people ultimately worried for their own safety, and with it jeopardized, I became their enemy once more.
Would Gaia be a better place for me? Did dragon-kind hate me because I was human? Maybe things would be better once I returned to my own people. The notion sent a shiver of excitement through me.
An official next to Bianca raised an unsteady hand. Rylan’s gaze darted to him. “Elder Salvar? You may speak.”
Salvar was a young-looking man with a dark hairdo—short on one side and braided in a fanciful pattern along the other side of his scalp. His stature was short but stocky. He was either a drerkyn or draerin. He had glowing, tan skin and thin lips which gave him a hard look. “I believe the issue of an heir should be brought to notice. You came back from the Temple of Ashes bruised, and from stories circulating around, you had almost gotten killed, Your Majesty. Pardon my insolence, but this matter must be addressed.”
Rylan drew his lip up in a snarl. “I have my brothers.”
“All four of you could have been lost, and now, with the expedition to Gaia . . . unknown lands—”
“There is Anatolia.”
I hated how this conversation was going. What was Elder Salvar implying? That I was unfit to be Rylan’s mate, and he should find someone else? My skin crawled with the thought, and I wanted to rip Salvar’s eyes from its sockets.
Salvar bowed his head, as if the action could negate the disrespect he projected through his words. “The courts would much prefer a child from your line to continue the tradition of a son taking the place of his father.”
“This is unimportant, Elder Salvar. I’ve heard enough. This court is—”
“Oh, but it is very important. The morale of the nation is at stake. If the royal family is not stable, then how can Constanria be?”
“Are you calling my family unstable?” Rylan narrowed his eyes. “Do you truly wish to cross me now?”
Elder Salvar sensed he had spoken wrongly, and he chuckled to loosen the tension. Nobody laughed with him. He gathered himself from his awkward blunder and continued. “Apologies for my wrong choice of words, Your Majesty. I speak merely out of concern for the nation and you. Allow me to make a suggestion.”
My pulse spiked when I saw Salvar reaching for my sister’s hand. “Perhaps a different . . . option . . . might be suited for Queen. One who will not be barren and—”
“Enough!” Rylan shouted. His black wings fanned out from behind him as a warning, blocking my view of Salvar. I didn’t have to look at the elder to know he was likely shitting fear. “One more word, Salvar, and I will have you locked up and you will never to see the sun again. Understand? You’ve spoken out of line and I refuse to hear any more of this. Ever. From any of you.”
A hand squeezed mine. Gaius was trying to comfort me. A hollow smile lay on his lips.
“Court dismissed,” Rylan said. He grabbed me from my seat and pressed me flush against his body to show the courts the strength of our relationship. I stared daggers at Bianca, hating my sister for being favored instead of me. I had sacrificed so much for this nation, but they let gossip and rumors bend their minds.
Was it wrong not to care for Constanria? To open the portal to Gaia and put it in danger? But then I thought of the young girl in Beyestirya, and the many more young children who might suffer for my selfishness. They hadn’t wronged me, not like the Constanrian courts had. They never had the chance to.
Rylan tugged me toward him so forcefully, my breath slammed out of my lungs. I gazed up at him in question, only to meet a taut jaw, gritted so tightly, I saw his veins straining at his neck.
Rylan brought me out of the courtroom in his arms, wings beating against the air behind us. I snuggled into his warmth, concentrating on the lighter humming between us instead of the rushing, hot rage threatening to consume me.
There was only so much I could take.
He set me at the garden where we had first tested our powers. The fountain trickled, playing a gentle tune with its water. Tall, midnight-green hedges formed a protective shield around us. I focused on Rylan and his elegant features. His cocoon-shaped eyes looked at no one but me right now. He could turn from king to lover so quickly when we were alone together. Nobody else could make him wear that same, tender expression.
“Don’t let their words get to you,” Rylan said. He brought me to a table, so I could sit in front of him and he could rest his hands around my waist. “They’re shallow and are unable to get their heads out of suspicion. I will never follow their suggestions, Sera, love. We’re yours. Just yours.”
“I know,” I said, studying the smoky expression on his face, filled with emotion. I traced my fingertips down the side of his braid. He released a soft, contented sigh and bent his lips down to my collarbone to place a kiss there. He lifted his hand to the back of my robe and unraveled the string.
I hugged my hand around Rylan’s arm. “Rylan, not here.”
“But I must have you now,” he said.
I tried to push him away, but his body was rigid and too strong for me to force off mine. He hesitated and turned his face up. He bore a question in his blue, enrapturing eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I ran my tongue over my lower lip, and Rylan’s eyes flared as he watched me. “Someone might walk in on us.” The entrance to the garden was open, and anybody could stumble upon us by turning the corner. I was used to making love to the prince our private spaces. Not around here, in open air and the moon glowing above.
“So?” Rylan said, nipping at my chest and dragging the top of my robe down.
My eyes widened. “You’re asking that? Rylan! It’s not appropriate—”
“Is it not? If someone walks in, then it’ll just be more apparent I’m yours. Let them know, Sera. I don’t care if they see us. We belong together and that’s how they should be. Maybe it’ll shut those idiotic officials up.”
“Rylan, I—” He pushed his hand up my robe and placed it against my center, slipping two fingers in. He spread me apart. My heart couldn’t take it, and tears welled in my eyes when Rylan drew my head down so that our lips could touch. Shivers shook down my spine.
He whispered my name with a sigh on his lips. When I was wet enough for him, he parted my legs and rested his length between my thighs. He sheathed himself into my folds. My toes curled. My insides felt heavy with pleasure.
My world was Rylan. Just him. Just us.
He surrounded me with his scent of heat and ash, and I wondered if he’d felt my own covering his as well, mixing together so everyone could know I’d selfishly claimed this wonderful man for myself. The moon continued to hang high in the sky, a beautiful, white circle, so delightful in this open air, as if a testament to how we belonged together despite the chattering of the courts.
He watched me as a blush crept up my cheeks. I raked my fingernails across his back, forming little moons on his skin because I gripped him too tightly, marking him as mine. We came as one. Together. My hips bucked against his and his against mine and it was glorious. I kissed his jaw. He gathered my hair in his grasp and pushed my lips to his once more as he pumped the remainder of his seed into my center.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Rylan said. Hi
s velvety voice was filled with strong conviction. “The small-minded don’t matter.”
“They don’t,” I echoed him, grinning as his lips and his hot, sweet breath hovered above me.
He was right. The small-minded weren’t as important, as long as we held the reins of power.
However, it felt like something was brewing under the machinations of the courts, and I worried it might try to tear us apart like before.
Chapter Twelve
Gaius kissed my jaw. “You smell like him.” He had an arm propped beside me and shadowed his body with mine.
“Who?” I asked. I’d bumped into Gaius after heading to the kitchen, wondering if Micah was there.
“Rylan.”
“And? Is that a problem?”
A playful line curled up Gaius’s lips. “The human side of me is telling me no, but my dragon doesn’t seem to think so. It wants to mark you with my scent.”
He cupped my neck and drew me against him. He circled his strong arms around me and pressed me up against his hard torso. A breath hitched in my throat. Gaius murmured his next words against my lips. “How would you like to be marked, dear Sera?”
“However you wish.” His temperature rose against my skin. Frolicking with Gaius was fun but I had another prince to find. “Before we do anything, have you seen Micah?”
A semi-growl, half-purr, rumbled through him. “Why Micah?”
“I haven’t seen him since last night.”
“Don’t talk about my brothers when I want you for myself.” He rolled a strand of my hair between his fingertips.
“I’m just asking—”
A gleeful chef, Julius, popped his head out of the kitchen. “Your Highness? I was wondering if you wanted to check up on the sauce.”
“The sauce?” Gaius asked.
Julius glanced to the left, then back at his prince. “You did ask me to teach you. I’m sorry to interrupt but the batch might burn if we wait any longer.”
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