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“I was chagrinned to hear of your mother’s death. She was quite formidable. She impressed me when we met. We bandied around the idea of aligning our families.”

“But obviously didn’t. Why?”

“I was married at the time.” Stated with a wry smile.

“Your wives have an unfortunate habit of dying.” She saw no point in being coy.

“They did, however, not by my hand or decree. My last vizier saw fit to act without my knowledge.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“He and the lords were concerned about my lack of heirs and, given their desire for a legitimate successor, kept disposing of wives they deemed faulty.”

“So I can expect the same treatment, I suppose.”

“Phelgar has since been removed from his position. With my renewed vitality, having a child is no longer a priority.”

“Planning to rule forever?” she spoke half jestingly.

“Yes,” he replied quite seriously.

“If you have no need of an heir, why marry at all?”

“Power. Daerva is the second most impressive country after Merisu.”

Debatable. But, then again, she thought Daerva a most wonderful place. “So you would use me?”

“In a sense. But in return, you would use me, as well, to regain your birthright. It could be mutually beneficial.”

“You’ll excuse my skepticism considering the circumstances that brought me here. Kidnapped. Forced into Verlora to retrieve the Dracova stones, then kidnapped again and mistreated. And now you expect me to kindly and obediently agree to your demand.”

“The sequence of events was unfortunate. However, as predicted, you did succeed.”

“Predicted by who?”

“My new viziers, whom you’ll meet shortly.”

“They see the future?”

“Of sorts. They perceive enough to be able to guide to better outcomes.”

Since he appeared willing to speak, she decided to ask, “Why do you want the stones?”

“That is complicated.”

She wondered what he knew of them because what she’d discovered still seemed farfetched. If what Basil—her late father and a scoundrel—revealed was true, then those stones were, in fact, eggs.

Dragon eggs.

And having seen what one unleashed dragon could do, she really hoped Titus didn’t plan to try and hatch another.

Not to mention, the stones were needed to keep Zhos in its prison.

Until their theft, they’d acted as a shield of sorts that kept Zhos from being able to act.

She still didn’t understand how they worked, only that they must have had some kind of magic that nullified Zhos’ efforts.

“They’re dangerous,” she stated.

“Only to the unknowing.” Titus offered a secretive smile. “They will be key in my plans for the future.”

“There won’t be a future if they’re not returned to Fraegus Spire to prevent Zhos’ escape,” she retorted sharply.

“Become my consort and I promise Zhos won’t be a problem.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d alluded to knowing about the entity plaguing Daerva. “You know how to defeat it?”

“I know many things, and as you learn to trust in me, I will reveal those secrets to you.”

Trust? All of her natural intuition—plus all the stories she’d heard of this man—told her she’d be better off putting her faith in a venomous snake.

However, in her current situation, she’d best play along with whatever game Titus had drawn her into.

If he had information, then she wanted it.

If he could help her free Daerva from Benoit and save it from Zhos, it might be worthwhile to listen to what he had to say.

Maybe even agree to marry him. After all, Griffon was dead, and she had no one else to turn to.

“We’ve arrived at your new home,” Titus announced, parting the curtain to give her a peek.

The palanquin traversed a wide bridge of black, porous stone that led to a massive castle.

A palace he called it, and she could see why, given its sprawling grandeur.

Unlike her own home, it didn’t have high walls to defend it, but rather lush gardens with spraying fountains.

When their conveyance settled on the ground, Titus exited only to immediately turn around and offer her a helping hand.

She emerged into sunlight and beauty. Everything around had been designed to please the eye.

Gracefully carved statues stood scattered along garden paths lined with flowering bushes.

Minaret towers rose high in the sky, appearing too finely crafted to remain upright.

Even the staff appeared happy and well-fed, judging by their rounded cheeks and colorful clothing.

They showed obeisance to their emperor, dipping into low bows, but they did so with smiles, chirping, “Afternoon, Eminence.”

“Afternoon, my good people. Do say hello to Queen Avera Voxspira. She will be guesting with us, and you are to treat her as you would me.”

“Yes, Eminence,” they replied in a chorus.

Curious gazes strayed her way and she had to wonder what they must think of the filthy and smelly woman in rags accompanying their ruler. She most certainly didn’t look like a queen.

Once more, Titus offered the crook of his arm as he led her inside, the entrance actually opening right into a massive ballroom with hanging chandeliers and gleaming floors.

The pillars holding up the vaulted roof were seemingly too slender for such weight.

At the far end of the room massive bronze doors were wide open, giving a peek at a dais of dark stone and the throne that sat atop it.

“Welcome to your new home,” Titus stated. “Should you have need of anything, simply say the word.”

“You’re too kind,” she murmured, her ingrained manners emerging by rote.

“Not kind enough. I must make up for the mistreatment. I don’t know what possessed the captain to treat you so horrendously.”

She didn’t point out that the emperor must have said, or not said, something to instigate the captain’s behavior.

“Prielli.” He waved to one of the women who’d dropped into a deep bow. “Her Highness, the queen of Daerva, has arrived. After an arduous journey, she is in need of some pampering. Please see to it that she is made comfortable in the consort’s tower and provided with anything she requires.”

“Yes, Your Eminence. If Her Highness would follow me.”

Before Avera could follow the maid, Titus said, “If you feel up to it, I hope you’ll join me for the evening repast.”

“Is that a command, Emperor?”

“No. A request, and I see no need for honorifics between us. Call me Titus.”

It seemed only polite to say, “Very well, if I am not indisposed then I shall see you at dinner, Titus.” She took a step from him before adding, “You may call me Avera.”

She took her leave of Titus, somewhat confused by her initial impression of him since it clashed with everything she’d ever learned.

As she followed the maid up some stairs that her malnourished body protested, she didn’t have the breath to ask any questions.

She could only gaze about at the splendor of his home.

Clean. That was the first thing she noticed, which couldn’t be easy given the dark stone everywhere.

Yet she saw no dust or cobwebs, nor scuff marks on the floor from boots.

Few guards as well, which surprised her.

The maid led her to a second set of stairs set inside a tower, the number of which made Avera inwardly groan. She wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest, but she gritted her teeth and forged onward and upward. It proved worth the effort.

Her room turned out to be a suite set on two levels. The first had a receiving chamber with divans, a small library, and even an intimate dining area. Prielli pointed as she named off the amenities.

“Someone will ensure the fireplaces and braziers are lit every evening should you wish to entertain or even relax. If you require anything—food, entertainment, or to summon someone—simply pull that rope.” Prielli indicated a thick, hanging cord of gold that ended in a tassel.

A last set of stairs led to the top floor of the tower and Avera’s bedroom, massive in size, with windows all around giving her the most splendid vista.

The city of Tiraus was spread out below, the buildings mostly made of mixed gray and black stone with roofs of light blue tile.

The streets were neatly aligned with parallel roads that intersected to create squares, rather than curving all over like those back home.

“Is that a market?” Avera asked, noticing bright awnings running in concentric circles in a wide opening surrounded by structures.

“It’s the Megazaar. If you wish, we can visit.”

She very much did wish, just not today.

Being ensconced in luxury did much to revive Avera. The biggest surprise? When she emerged from the lavish room with the deep soaking tub that washed the grime from her skin, the Dracova stones sat in cloth-covered cradles on the dresser.

The note with them?

Please accept these as a wedding gift and a promise that together we shall stop Zhos from ruining the world.

Perhaps she could still save Daerva. The price?

Marriage to a stranger.