Page 37 of Court of Secrets and Flames (Dragons of Tirene #2)
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The heavy doors to the king’s throne room swing open with an ominous creak.
Positioned at regular intervals along the walls, the royal guards stand at rigid attention. I would hate to have a job like theirs. Waiting without moving for hours at a time.
Though this isn’t my first time in this space, I’d almost forgotten how stunning it is.
Carved ivory pillars support lofty ceilings, which seem even higher due to the tall, stained glass windows creating kaleidoscopes on the floor.
Chin held high, I step away from the guards as if they don’t exist. “Your Majesty, we bring distressing news from the dragon paddock.”
Jasper’s steely gaze travels back and forth between his brother and me. “Oh? Please elaborate.”
The king lifts a hand, silencing the murmurs of the courtiers lurking in the shadows. Maybe he senses the gravity of what I’m about to disclose.
Gulping, I grapple for composure while images of the panicked beasts cloud my vision. “The dragons were stricken with terror and took flight in a frenzy. And when they returned…” Tears brim, unbidden, threatening to spill over. “They brought back the corpse of a juvenile dragon.”
King Jasper stiffens, his knuckles whitening against the dark oak of his throne as his gaze bores into me. “Our dragons?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, the dragons that live in Tirene, not just the ones around the palace. The juvenile was not one I’ve ever seen before, but I am sure all of Tirene will mourn the loss of such a noble and young creature.”
“Perhaps the creatures encountered a predator in the wild, or worse, poachers bold enough to threaten our skies.” Jasper’s calculating brown eyes search mine.
What does he see? Fear? Defiance? The woman who almost banged his brother behind a tapestry earlier?
Sterling scoffs. “Unless you’re aware of a new, secret breed of beast, dragons are apex predators. No other creature exists that’s big and deadly enough to hunt one. Juveniles are protected by an adult until they’re big enough to hunt on their own.”
“Your Majesty.” Bastian bows. His wings, folded neatly behind him, betray none of the urgency that fires his hazel eyes. “Please grant me leave to pursue the matter. I shall gather a contingent and trace their flight.”
“Indeed, you shall.” Jasper gives a curt nod. His attention shifts back to me, as if anticipating my next move before it unfolds.
“May I accompany him?” I take a small step forward, hoping my offer doesn’t piss off the king. “Two pairs of eyes can’t hurt.”
Sterling’s throat bobs, and his gaze darts between Bastian and me. “I could go as well.”
“Not necessary,” Jasper barks, gripping the arm of the throne. “And your place is here with me, Lady Lark. You would do well to remember that.”
Or what? You’ll lock me in a prison cell again?
A surge of indignation threatens to unravel my composure, the desire to unfurl my wings and flee almost too overpowering to resist.
A bitter laugh tickles the back of my throat, stifled only by self-preservation.
He’ll use me for war. He’ll use me for political maneuvering. He hopes to use me as a fucking broodmare. The royal bastard will even happily sacrifice me to the prophecy that details my death.
“Of course, Your Majesty. Forgive my…indiscretion.”
At my deliberate word choice, Jasper’s eyes narrow.
“We have lost a rare and precious commodity.” The king addresses Sterling, not even sparing me another glance, and I freeze, wondering if he’s speaking of the missing eyril. “Dragons are not simple beasts that can be bred at will every year. But if our dragons could be persuaded to find others and bring them here to serve the Crown…”
I clench my teeth to trap my abhorrence at the thought of those magnificent creatures reduced to servitude. This is the wrong place and time to air my opinion.
Bastian steps forward. Unlike his obvious discomfort during our awkward encounter in the archives, today he exudes a quiet confidence of those born to command. His bearing piques my curiosity, and I remind myself to ask Leesa about him once this current cluster fuck is handled. “If I may, Your Highness. One of our scouts brings rumors from Flighthaven that speak of dragons in distress and equally unsettled as our own.” The undercurrent of urgency in his voice does not escape me.
Jasper drums his fingers on the arm of his throne. “Rumors that may or may not be true.”
This is getting us nowhere.
Reaching the same conclusion, Sterling clears his throat. “Your Majesty, could you please clear the room? Lark and I request a private audience.”
“Whatever you have to say, brother, you can air now.”
Shit. I reach for Sterling’s tunic, to urge him to wait, but it’s too late.
“I was wondering what happened to our eyril stores? While Lark and I checked for signs of sabotage, we peeked inside, only to find it empty.”
The chamber’s air thickens with murmurs and tension. Jasper’s jaw goes slack before he slams a fist on his chair. “That’s it! Everyone save my brother and Lady Lark, clear the room.”
In a chorus of whispers, the courtiers exit the chamber. The guards linger, but Jasper waves them off, ordering them to wait outside the door.
When everyone’s gone, he fixes his attention on his brother. “Why are you asking about the eyril?”
“Like I said, we were searching for an explanation for the dragons’ behavior and discovered an empty storeroom.”
For a tense few seconds, Jasper glares. “As king, I’m not required to explain my decisions. Not even to you, brother.” Then his shoulders sag a little. “Though in this case, I have nothing to hide. Probably over five years ago, I had the eyril carried to a remote stretch of beach and burned.”
Sterling and I exchange a surprised glance. “Burned? What for?”
Jasper sighs. “No matter how I locked it up, someone managed to break in and steal it. We had a few addiction issues as a result, and a teenage girl died. Since eyril does us no good magically and we were no longer exporting, I decided to go the safe route and destroy it.”
I blink. That’s surprisingly decent of him.
Sterling must share the same thought. “While I think that was a wise choice, I’m not sure why you needed to clear the room for that.”
“I don’t like to share my business with all of our subjects, though I’ll admit, I did have an ulterior motive.”
I examine the king, but as usual, can’t get a good read on him. He’s such a mixed bag. Sometimes likeable, sometimes horrifying.
My mind returns to the eyril just as the king focuses on me, that nagging sense of missing an important connection refusing to leave me be.
The king leans forward and steeples his fingers together. “I think it’s past time we had an honest discussion about the three of us?—”
My gasp cuts him off as the thing eluding me clicks. “I know what’s been bothering me!” I grab Sterling’s arm. “The eyril storage room…is that what your eyril always smells like?”
Sterling’s brow furrows. “Yes. But why?—”
I swing back to the king. “And the eyril you grew here…did it smell the same way? Basically earthy?”
Now Jasper’s forehead is a duplicate of his brother’s. “As far as I’m aware. Why? What are you getting at?”
“Something’s been bothering me about the dead animals, but I couldn’t put two and two together. They all had this distinct odor, like sweet decay. I couldn’t remember where I smelled it before, but now I do.”
“Where?” Sterling asks.
“The eyril field at Flighthaven. Don’t you remember? It always had that pleasing yet slightly disturbing scent.”
His eyes slowly widen. “I didn’t until you just said that, but now that you did…yes, that does sound right. So you’re saying you think tainted eyril from Aclaris could have killed the alicorns and the juvenile dragon?”
A furrow forms between the king’s eyes. “I don’t understand. Who would be bringing that into Tirene, and how? We keep track of all the supplies we bring in via ship.”
“I think I may have the answer for that too. When I was out riding the dragon the day I was attacked, I saw something in a hidden cove. It looked like a ship, but it was concealed. And when I went to get a closer look, I was run off.”
The king’s mouth firms into a grim line. “Knox, call the guards back in and assemble a team to investigate.”
Then, to my utter frustration, the king commands me to remain behind while the others head out in search of the ship.
My nerves stretch thinner each hour that passes without word. Could this tie into the raids somehow? What if Sterling’s team is attacked?
When they finally return, the satisfaction radiating from Sterling tells me the outcome long before he opens his mouth.
They found the ship as it was leaving the cove, along with a ghost crew and three barrels of eyril. After subduing the crew, Sterling left soldiers behind and directed them to sail into the harbor.
Relief bubbles in my chest. With the eyril secured, the bizarre animal deaths should cease. The prisoners will need to be questioned to learn what they hoped to achieve, but in the meantime, a weight lifts from my shoulders.
As long as I can avoid another assassination attempt, my life might finally be calming down.