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Avera spent the next few days after the attack learning more about Merisu and its emperor, not that she saw much of Titus.

After the assassination attempt, he’d been on a mission to ensure everyone understood she was not to be harmed.

To that end, his soldiers sought out those working for the Assassins’ Guild, seeing as how the master of it couldn’t be found.

Prielli kept Avera updated, and on the fourth morning as she arrived with a tray—which she insisted on eating from to ensure there was no poison, despite how much Avera argued her life was also important—her maid announced, “The Assassins’ Guild is no more. The master was located last night.”

“That’s good news. Did they discover who commissioned the guild to kill me?”

Prielli’s lips turned down and she shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. They found his body stuffed in a trunk, dead for days. It would seem someone killed him before he could be caught and questioned.”

“Ironic,” Avera mused. “The head of assassins assassinated.”

“At least now those murderers are gone.”

“You didn’t approve?”

“I believe those with squabbles should face each other and have it out, not pay someone to do the deed for them.”

“Agreed. We didn’t have such a thing on Daerva.

Our murder rate was rather low. Most were the result of too much libation or domestic disputes.

” Surprisingly, it wasn’t just the husbands that killed.

A good number of wives often took the cleaver to philandering husbands.

Others leaned towards poisoning their food.

“Merisuan blood runs hot at times and since we birth more boys than girls, that leads to much posturing.”

“Why the higher births in that sex do you think?”

“My grams used to say it was because the women’s wombs sensed a war coming. Hence, they produced men who could be trained to fight.”

“A war with who?”

“Grams never said, but I wouldn’t put much stock in her claim. She also used to swear dragons were real, and that one used to live in Mount Ygnis.”

Avera kept her mouth shut rather than confirm dragons did indeed exist. Despite having seen one with her own eyes, she struggled with the truth and the fact history had so thoroughly erased them. No reason to upset Prielli’s innocence.

At dinner, which she attended, Titus was present for the first time in days, and he beamed widely as she approached. “It’s been much too long since we’ve dined together. I apologize for being preoccupied.”

“You seem quite pleased with yourself.”

“Because I am. The Assassins’ Guild?—”

“Is no more. I heard. I am told that, given the master’s untimely demise, you couldn’t find out who hired them.”

“Alas, all the correspondence in his office was burnt the same day of the attack. We almost caught the arsonist, but as we chased him on foot, he ran in front of a wagon and was crushed.”

“Was he also the person who killed the master?”

“That remains a mystery, unfortunately. However, my soldiers are still routing out any assassins who remain.”

“Why bother if the guild is no more?”

“Because a lesson must be taught about trying to interfere with matters of state,” he said matter-of-factly. Avera didn’t know if she should be impressed by his firmness or appalled by his ruthlessness. He pulled out her seat. “Shall we dine?”

She sat and as they ate, he entertained by pointing out people of his court and relating their quirks.

“Lady Chantilly likes to bathe in warm goat’s milk. Lord Juno has two pregnant mistresses plus a wife minding seven children at home.” Amusing tidbits that had her smiling. What a relaxing relief after the week she’d had.

Relaxing rather than stressing about the stones and Zhos.

What had happened to her urgency in returning them? Not too long ago, she’d been desperate to accomplish her quest, yet now that she had the dragon eggs still sitting atop her dresser, she’d not once thought of bagging them up and hightailing it to the port to see if she could bribe her way out.

“Is something wrong?” Titus asked.

“It occurs to me that while I dine and chatter inanely, Zhos is likely spreading its vile influence among my people.”

“Fear not. We will handle that foul being.”

“When? I don’t want my people to suffer because I delayed.”

“Very soon. Keep in mind, even once we hatch the dragons they will require some time before they are of a strength to be of any use. The book claims they require much fresh meat those first few weeks.”

“It still sounds risky to me. Aren’t you worried they will decimate Merisu like they did Verlora?”

“They won’t, because you and I are the key.”

“You’ve said that before, but I don’t see how. Why would they listen to us?”

He went quiet and glanced left and right. “We shouldn’t speak of this here. May I visit you this evening?”

“Where?”

“Your parlor.”

“Without a chaperone?” Avera frowned. She couldn’t have said why her reluctance to be alone with him. She’d not balked at the time she spent with Griff or with Titus in his office. Blame the fact she’d been taught to not entertain gentlemen in her private chambers.

“No one will know. I promise to be discreet.”

“Will you bring the book?”

“Yes. Along with some answers to your questions.”

“Very well.”

With their assignation decided, Avera soon excused herself, but when Prielli would have assisted in changing her evening outfit to a sleeping gown, Avera shook her head. “I’d rather remain dressed for the moment.”

“What for?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Prielli nodded.

“I’m expecting a visitor.”

Her maid’s eyes widened in horror. “If the emperor were to find out...”

“It’s the emperor visiting me.”

“Oh,” Prielli stated, only to smile knowingly and add another, “ Ohhh… ”

The misassumption had Avera shaking her head and blushing. “No, it’s not like that. He wishes to discuss some things with me in private. Nothing more.”

“Should I return later to help you undress?”

“I think I can manage for one night. But thank you.”

“Should you change your mind, just ring for me.” Prielli left and Avera paced.

Why had she agreed? Why was she so nervous? After all, they’d been alone before in his office, but in her quarters, it felt more personal, more… She couldn’t explain the difference, only that it had her agitated.

There was no knock, no opening of her door, and yet suddenly her nape prickled, warning her she was no longer alone.

She whirled in time to see Titus closing a door by the hearth that she’d never guessed existed. “You have secret tunnels?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he countered with a grin. He dropped a basket on the table and from it pulled a book.

“You brought it.”

“I told you I would.” He held out the book. “Take a glance while I pour us some wine.”

He pulled a bottle and a pair of glasses from the basket. While he uncorked the bottle, she studied the tome. It was bound in a strange material, leatherlike, a dark gray, scaled in texture, the surface of it glinting silver as she turned it around in the lamplight.

“What’s it covered in?” she asked.

“Dragon skin.”

She almost dropped it. “I guess that would make sense given the contents.” Upon opening it, she frowned. She didn’t recognize the shape of the letters. “What language is this?”

“An ancient one no longer commonly used, but I learned and so can you. In the meantime, I can translate it for you. As well, I think you’ll find the images interesting.” He held out a glass of wine.

As she flipped through the pages, she noticed the drawings, the first being of a dragon done in color, only it was a shade of green, not black hinting of red like the one in Verlora. “They come in different hues?”

“Yes. Like us, they have varying characteristics, color being the most visible. They can also differ in size and temperament.”

“The one in Verlora was huge. Basil claimed it and many of the creatures on the continent were exposed to some kind of growth serum that made them larger.”

“That would explain some of the reports,” he stated, taking a sip of his wine.

“From your thieves,” she said tartly.

“More like scavengers, and before you retort, they committed no crime. They took only what was abandoned. Or would it be preferable to let those items rot?”

His rebuke had her biting her lip, but she didn’t cower. “Those things belong to the Verlorians.”

“They had more than two decades to recover them if they wanted to.”

“The danger?—”

“Wasn’t insurmountable.”

A valid point. She also couldn’t help but remember Griff’s adamant stance about never returning. “How many died filling your coffers?”

“A few.” He didn’t deny it. “However, I will note that those sent weren’t exactly prime soldiers. That assignment was solely for those who proved troublesome at home.”

“So you sent them to a deadly land rather than demote or reprimand them?”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry you don’t approve of my methods.”

Rather than argue, she flipped a few more pages and grimaced. “What’s this?” The image was of a dragon, prone, obviously dead, and someone slicing open its midsection.

“Ah, the retrieval of the egg. Interesting fact about dragons. They are neither male nor female.”

“Then how do they reproduce?” She knew enough of nature to realize one of each was needed.

“They don’t exactly. When a dragon dies, its essence binds itself to the egg they all have within their chest cavity. Once extracted, it can be hatched via steady heat over a period of time or spontaneously?—”

“By tossing it in some lava,” she finished. “That seems an odd way for a species to survive. What happens if the egg is left to languish?”

“That is where the blooded come in.”

“The what?”

“The blooded. I am not sure how it began but it refers to the certain families, bloodlines, that are able to form bonds with dragons. Even speak to them.”

For a second, she flashed to the voice she’d heard in Verlora. The one in her head that she thought she’d imagined. “Dragons speak?”