Page 8 of Court of Secrets and Flames (Dragons of Tirene #2)

Chapter Eight

The next morning, I dress in a pair of slightly too big cream-colored trousers and another tunic, this one a flowing silky purple. Last, I pull on my thick leather boots, the only things that feel like “mine” in my bizarre imprisonment.

I spot a tray on the table closest to the door. Someone must have brought breakfast while I slept. Though a bit worrying considering I’m essentially in enemy territory, I’m relieved to not need to beg for food.

My jailers are such considerate bastards.

Today, I find fresh bread, bacon, eggs, and berries. I snag a piece of bacon and close my eyes, savoring the salty flavor.

When I’m finished, I test the door. Locked, as I expected. “For my safety,” the king had said.

Sure. And I’m a three-headed alicorn.

More than likely, it’s so his guards can keep tabs on me. At least he assured me that I can roam as I please, as long as I have an escort. I need only to knock.

So, after a quick plea that Hyde isn’t the guard on duty, I bang my first on the door. Blair opens it, flashing me a wary smile.

Relief sweeps through me at the sight of his face. Though I haven’t spent much time with him yet, he gives off a trustworthy vibe. Maybe because he’s quiet but helpful when asked a question. He doesn’t put on airs or treat me differently than anyone else. Plus, so far, I haven’t caught him lying. As far as I’m concerned, that puts him in the top one percent.

Not that I trust him. Only my sister has my complete faith.

In the past, I trusted too easily—to my detriment. My mother. Sterling. King Xenon and the history taught in Aclaris.

But I learned my lesson. I won’t blindly trust in others again.

After glancing down the hall, I ask Blair to escort me to the Royal Archives. I need to understand more about this land that serves as my current prison.

He gives me a curious glance, then nods. I follow as he leads me through the twisting hallways.

As we walk through the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, he greets the various servants we pass. Like the courtiers, the servants typically regard me with either awe or suspicion—often a combination of both.

As if to prove my point, two women wearing aprons over brown dresses hurry down the hall, their wide eyes watching me pass. As soon as they’re behind us, the whispers begin.

I grit my teeth and remind myself that directing a vulgar gesture at King Jasper’s staff would be bad form. Though my time at Flighthaven helped me grow more accustomed to strangers’ eyes on me after my childhood of isolation, being the center of attention still often makes me squirm.

“Do you often escort guests like this?”

“Sometimes.” He opens his mouth like there’s something else he’d like to say, but he doesn’t elaborate.

“Is it always this busy in the palace?” I count intersections as we pass them, attempting to keep track of our path. I need to memorize every nook and cranny in case I’m ever allowed to find my way around on my own.

Though returning to my former home would be dangerous—King Xenon is undoubtedly monitoring Flighthaven and Castle Axton—I doubt remaining here would be any safer. Will I ever be able to truly trust the people within these walls? If King Jasper speaks the truth, this is my homeland. Yet I’m not sure I belong here.

I’m not sure I belong anywhere.

“Usually. Depends on what’s going on in court and how many nobles and foreign dignitaries are here.”

“That makes sense.”

He stops before a set of ornate double doors. “Here we are.”

With a heavy creak, they swing open to reveal the Royal Archives.

Though I came here yesterday, I can’t help but drink in the splendor of the space like it’s my first time.

Before me lies a vast expanse of bookshelves, so tall they seem to scrape the heavens. The air, thick with the scent of parchment and dust, bears witness to countless years of wisdom. This treasure trove is far grander than Flighthaven’s library, despite its forlorn state.

At least a few years of accumulated dust and cobwebs cover the ancient volumes.

“Take your time.” Blair leans against the doorway with a yawn. “I’m here if you need me.”

A pang of guilt shoots through me for my escort. He’s probably been training or whatever it is Tirene soldiers do early in the morning.

“Sorry that you drew the short stick and got assigned babysitting duty. I could have waited until later in the day to come here. It’s just that, well, I don’t know who my guard will be later…”

He peeks into the corridor, then lowers his voice. “…And Hyde is about as friendly as a mountain cat with a belly ache.”

His whispered remark catches me off guard. I bark a laugh before slanting him a sideways glance. “I see I’m not the only one who’s been honored with Hyde’s company.”

His lips twitch. “Indeed.” He yawns again, then saunters toward a dusty table. “I’m just going to have a seat for a bit.”

“Rough night?” Though I hardly know this man, I can’t keep the teasing tone from my voice. There’s something about his youthful face and kind brown eyes that put me at ease.

He quirks a brow. “Rough morning. The prince had me up early doing drills.”

He doesn’t elaborate, instead crossing his arms and shutting his eyes.

I step farther into the cavernous room with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

Though I’m confused as to why Jasper granted me permission, I intend to capitalize on the advantage that unfettered access to the kingdom’s secrets could provide.

The king’s archives hold all the histories, surveys, even correspondences and journals of past monarchs. Normally, those would be under the watchful eye of an archivist. Except no such person is in this room to act as protector.

Cobwebs cling to the spines of ancient tomes, and I wipe a layer of dust from a nearby shelf with a grimace. It’s clear that this once-great library has been left to languish, its secrets long forgotten by those who should have cherished them. Inspecting the books, I can tell they’ve been shelved without any sense of order. Diaries mixed with genealogy, next to treatises on herbology, stored between historical battle documents.

All this information, yet no way to make use of what I find until I can sort the chaos.

Leaving the rows of shelves, I search for a catalog. Some way to make sense of all the information I’m surrounded by. There are tables placed every dozen paces or so, but none with anything resembling a categorical system.

“Are you hunting for something specific?” I startle, finding Blair behind me.

“Not exactly. I’d like to learn more about Tirene.” I inspect a book with a beautiful red leather cover that strikes my fancy, only to realize it’s about gardening. Interesting, but not quite what I’m searching for. “And I want to expand my training. I was hoping there might be a book on dragonriding. Maybe even a book about dragoncallers.”

I leave out my desire for anything that might give me information on how to escape Tirene.

“Hmm.” He inspects a few covers, then shakes his head. “I don’t know where to begin. But if I keep sitting there, I’m going to fall asleep. So I’ll start searching on the opposite end, and we can meet in the middle.”

My eyelids burn, but I blink back the moisture. He could treat me like an outsider or with indifference, but he’s actually been kind. I don’t know what the prince told Blair and Agnar about me or if they’ve treated me with courtesy of their own accord, but a small chunk of the ice in my heart from Knox’s betrayal thaws.

As I continue my investigation, I feel the dragons awakening, their hunger seeping into my mind like tendrils of smoke. The sensation ignites my own magical abilities, and tiny flames dance around my fingers, threatening to devour me.

With a deep breath, I push down the feelings that are not my own. My newfound connection to the dragons is both a gift and a curse, one I need to learn to control before it consumes me.

Blair’s gaze flickers between my face and the sparks at my fingertips. “Are you all right?”

Curling my fingers tight, I take care to keep them away from anything flammable until I can get my magic under control again. “Just fine.” I hope.

He dips his chin in response but doesn’t take his eyes off me. Probably because he’s worried I’ll set the archives on fire if I’m not careful.

A valid concern. This wouldn’t be the first place that accidentally went up in flames thanks to me.

It’s only after several tedious minutes that I spot it. A shelf laden with books whose titles refer to dragoncallers of the past.

Amid the layers of dust that coat everything else, a crisp and clean piece of parchment peeks out from one of the covers. Almost as if someone left it for me.

I unfold the paper, scanning the words inked upon its surface.

“Childe of dragons, but no one’s childe.

Born in the year of the huntress moon.

Not of Tirene nor Aclaris,

A dragoncaller, the first in generations,

buried alive,

unearthed only to die.

Forged in fire,

Reborn from ash,

Her allegiance the key to king and kingdom.

The lost heir will break the worlds

And save the worlds.”

The chilling weight of the prophecy sinks onto my shoulders as I reread each line.

Is that it? Or is something missing? And what in the hells does buried alive, unearthed only to die mean?

Because I’d like to opt out of that bit if nothing else.

If the prophecy is even about me. Though it’s hard to refute. If my age is correct, I was born the year of the huntress moon, and supposedly I am the first dragoncaller in generations.

Also, ouch. That Not of Tirene nor Aclaris line almost seems like a cheap shot.

I smooth the paper between trembling hands. Someone wrote this and left it here. But why? And for whom? Me?

“Hey Blair. Do you have any idea who’s visited the archives recently?”

He scratches his chin. “No clue, sorry. Did someone make a mess?”

I shake my head. “No, I was just curious.”

I spot a scribe box tucked away in a dusty corner of the room. Folding the paper, I tuck it into my pocket before heading over. Grabbing paper and quill, I return to the table where I found the prophecy, determined to make sense of this all.

I clutch the folded prophecy in my pocket, resolving to keep this newfound knowledge a secret. My heart is heavy with the burden of its words, but I must continue my quest for answers.

Sitting, I flip open the top book and start reading. After all, dragons and dragoncallers are the very reason I’m here.

The prophecy will have to wait.

As I delve into the world of legends and ancient creatures, of betrayals and power struggles, of lost kingdoms and forgotten legacies, a bitter resentment grows.

Let them think they can control me. I will rise above their schemes and lies.

No matter what anyone believes, I am more than just a pawn in their twisted game.