Page 12 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Twelve

Sterling shoos the squires out, telling them they can reconvene tomorrow.

Once they’re gone, I drop down beside him on the couch and divulge everything we saw and experienced. Including the way the city was disguised from the air and the fear I sensed from Kaida.

“All of that sounds hard to believe, yet you all saw it.” His frown carves deeper lines into his weary face. “But phoenixes? I’ll consult with the council tomorrow. They may know something more than basic myths and legends.” He rests a hand on my knee, his skin warming me.

“We already plan to extend our search of the Royal Archives.” Bastian perches himself on the edge of his chair. “If there’s a trace left of them, I’ll find it, Your Highness.”

Sterling sighs. “Please don’t call me that in private.” He sweeps a hand at Blair and Agnar. “These two don’t count. Being around them is much like being around horses. Particularly ugly horses.”

Bastian raises his eyebrows, his gaze darting to the couch the two besmirched men are sprawled out on. This time, I don’t bother to suppress my laughter.

Agnar scuffs at his neck and chin with the back of his hand. “Nay. S’not true.”

As I roll my eyes at the terrible pun, he smirks.

“Don’t bother to argue with the man. It’s nearly a compliment from his mouth.” Blair groans as he sits up straight, ignoring Sterling’s grin. “Although, he would know about ugly horses. His very first girlfriend was this sway-backed, mangy old nag. The homeliest creature you’ve ever laid eyes on. Silver loved Knox though. She used to break out of her stall and follow him around like a lost puppy.”

My eyes widen as I turn to Agnar. “Wait… Silver ? Is that why you called him Prince Silver the day you stole me from Flighthaven?”

“I prefer the term liberated . And yes. Blair and I started calling him Silver whenever he pissed us off which, let’s face it, was over half the time. Then, we got into the habit of calling him that at other times too. It eventually died off, but I like to resurrect the name every now and then to keep his ego in check.”

I snicker. “I bet he just loves that.”

Struggling to smile, Bastian just nods along. While he might partake in this type of tomfoolery in the field or during training, he’s clearly not comfortable with it in the king’s quarters, right in front of the crown prince. I wonder how he would feel knowing Sterling’s position should rightfully be mine. Would he become just as stiff around me? Or worse, would he back Sterling’s claim over mine?

I’m still not sure what I’m going to do about that, or even how I feel, but it’s a conversation we’ll have to have before the fast-approaching coronation.

Agnar snorts—or maybe it’s a brief snore—as he jerks upright. “Seeing as you’re all caught up and know there’s nothing more we can do tonight, how about letting us go so we can get some food and hit the racks?”

“Go. Go.” Sterling smiles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Tomorrow we’ll train and resume the research. Agnar, Blair, you talk to the men and anyone you know who might have knowledge of ancient weapons. See if any of them used anything from phoenixes.” He dismisses the two with a flick of his hand, but they ignore him. “The rest of you know how to read books, so the Royal Archives sounds like a good spot. After food and rest.”

“Books?” Blair slaps Agnar on the knee to get him to pay attention. “Those are the things with all the pages covered in pretty drawings, right?”

Agnar shakes his head, levering himself up from the couch. “Maybe. I’ve never bothered opening any of them.” He winks at Sterling. “I’m not some noble born with so much time on my hands I can sit around and admire pretty pictures all day long.”

Deciding to take the opportunity to bathe while Sterling is occupied, I rise from the couch.

When he reaches for my hand, I gesture to the dirt that clings to my skin thanks to a night of sleeping on the ground and a morning spent climbing through a window and investigating the remnants of a crumbling palace. Sterling nods, pressing a kiss against my knuckles and letting me go.

Retreating to my rooms, I head straight for my bathing chamber. On days like this, I really appreciate the overhead sluices. I use them to get clean quickly, with fresh water replacing the dirty almost immediately. I peel away the layers of grime and exertion, water cascading over skin marked with the day’s trials. The cuts on my arm are pink, but not hot or puckered.

In due time, I am refreshed and ready to crawl into my bed. Two days of solid flying has taken its toll on me. Wrapped in a soft nightgown and robe, I leave the steamy bathing chamber, only to find the door to my private sitting room open and voices coming from inside. Recognizing my mother’s and sister’s voices, I pad over.

“Oh, Lark, dear, there you are.” Mother scoots to one of the low-backed couches and pats the cushion next to her. “I heard you and your sister had returned, so I went to check her room but found it empty. I came here and discovered her talking with your nice taste tester at the door. Does that mean you ordered food?”

“I did.” Leesa glances at me. “After the way Lark was wilting on the last leg of our flight, I knew she’d be too tired to remember to eat before getting cleaned up.”

“You’re not wrong.” I sit next to my mother, taking the cup of tea she hands me with a grateful smile. “As I’m sure Mother recalls, I don’t mind getting dirty, but I hate the thought of crawling into sheets with all that grime on me.”

“Remember when I convinced you to climb down the trellis outside your nursery so we could make mud pies in the herb garden?” Leesa grins, then covers her mouth as Mother stares at her with wide eyes. “Oh, I guess you didn’t know about that one?”

“I most certainly didn’t. When did this happen?” Mother gawks at us both, mouth open.

“The spring after…” I’m suddenly filled with a hint of childish guilt even though I’m a grown woman no longer living in my mother’s estate. “I mean, I have no idea what Leesa is talking about, Mother.” I stuff a bit of bread into my mouth.

“It was the spring you got her the bright green ribbon for her hair.” Leesa giggles, a sound I sorely missed when she was away at Flighthaven, and later when I assumed her place at the academy after her disappearance. “She had a crush on the alderman’s son and wanted to look pretty for him.”

I nearly choke on my bread, laughing. Leesa must be as tired as I am if she’s spilling childhood secrets like this. “You were the one who had a crush on him. He was too old for me. I wanted to be friends with the baker’s son because he had access to the strawberry pastries and always swiped me one when he could.”

Leesa blushes before shooting right back with another tale of our adolescent antics.

Not to be outdone, I explain how my sister was actually the one who instigated our raid on the goat pens after swearing by their talent for climbing walls.

“That’s how the goat got into the storage room on the third floor?” Mother’s laughter joins ours in a melody that wraps around us like a warm embrace.

For a moment, the palace walls recede, and we’re just three souls bound by love and memories, untethered from the burdens of nobility and prophecy.

“Those were simpler times.” Mother sighs, her gaze distant. “I’m so glad you were able to have some happy experiences despite the walls I was forced to keep you behind.”

“It wasn’t all bad, Mother. Leesa was my best friend and always made sure we had something fun to do, even if I wasn’t allowed to leave the grounds.” I catch Leesa grimacing as pain flares across her features.

Mother rises, concern etching deep furrows into her brow. “Another headache?”

Leesa nods, trying to mask her discomfort. “It’s nothing. Just tired, I suppose. I may not have been flying, but I was standing watch all night. And being carried isn’t nearly as easy as stretching out on a dragon.”

Except that’s exactly how she described it.

Maybe Leesa is having a reflective mood and correcting misunderstandings.

“Let me find a healer.” Mother folds us both in her arms, her hug a welcome reminder of less complicated days. “Rest now, my dear. I’ll take care of your sister while you get some sleep. At this time of night, everyone should be in their beds.”

Leesa thanks our mother before extricating herself. Her eyes linger on me, but she says nothing more as she sweeps from the room.

Once alone, I push off the couch, restless energy coiling in my chest.

Mother is right. No one should be up this late, especially not working.

I wait a few more minutes before opening the door. In the empty halls, I retrace my steps back to Sterling’s chambers. He’s on a wooden chair, poring over maps and scrolls spread out on the table in front of him. The weight of the monarchy is already pressing down on his shoulders.

The crown isn’t his yet. If I spill the secret I’m hiding about how the Bardas stole it ages ago, it may never be.

Is that something I want to do though? Report Sterling’s ancestors’ thievery? And then what? Would that mean I’d end up sitting on the throne instead?

It’s a problem I’ve been turning over in my head since his brother admitted the truth in the midst of the drachen attack. “Enough for tonight. It’s time for you to go to bed.”

He glances up, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re not my queen yet, Lark.” He’s not even surprised by my late-night visit or casual attire.

“ Yet being the operative word.” I cross the room to him. My hands find his, strong and calloused from years of wielding both sword and reins. “Come on. You need rest, and I need you.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve tasted your lips.” All teasing leaves his eyes, replaced with a hunger that sizzles my blood.

I lean into him and whisper against his lips. “Then why not feast now? Our fasting has ended.” I kiss him, meaning for it to be delicate and light. Teasing. To show him how much I missed him and entice him to go to his bed with me.

But he heeds my words.

He feasts on me.

Sterling devours my mouth. His hands rove over my back, pulling me down and forward into him.

And I am gladly devoured. Molten desire permeates my body everywhere he touches me.

His need feeds into mine. I step between him and the table and straddle his lap, giving in to the heat he builds with every swipe of tongue and caress of fingers. I tear at his clothes, fumbling with the ties on his pants.

He plucks at the string of my nightgown, which slips down my body and renders me naked in front of his seat. I groan as the cool air teases my bare flesh.

“Not fair.” I stroke my hands over his trousers and find him already hard. “You’re fully dressed.” I shove the clinging fabric out of my way.

Sterling pushes me back, and for a moment I regret speaking. “Then let me even the playing field.” My eyes widen with anticipation as he rips his shirt over his head while standing. His trousers, already loosened, slide down his legs. “Better?”

Taking in his sculpted abs and chest, my mouth goes dry, my body hot with desire. “It’s not a throne, but it will do.” I force him back down onto the chair and straddle him.

His laughter becomes a moan as I settle myself on top of him, rotating my hips until I get things just right for me.

As I start to move, he throws his head back and huffs out a low rumble. The sinful gleam in his gaze drives me on, and I trail kisses over his neck.

He buries his face in my chest, licking along the inside of my breasts. My movements bounce them up and down in front of his eager mouth. I gasp as he licks over them and moan when he sucks on my nipple.

Leaning back, I brace myself on the heavy, paper-littered table, focused only on the man in front of me.

Goose bumps prickle my skin, pulling me out of the haze of enveloping pleasure. “Sterling, what are you doing?”

His wicked eyes lift, and his breath steams out between his lips. His ice-cold lips. Which he pursed before sucking my flesh into his hot mouth.

The noises that escape me are a strange mix between squeals and screams as my feet patter on the floor, and I’m catapulted over the edge into a maelstrom of bliss so strong my vision whites out. His hot breath gusts out around his icy lips as he moans my name. Heat sweeps through me. Blind with rapture, I wrap myself around him as tightly as I can.

I’m left breathless. Boneless. Mindless.

Slumped backward, it’s only Sterling’s arms that keep me from falling to the floor.

“I take it you liked that?” Sterling jostles me, pulling me upright before I collapse forward onto his chest.

“You…” I slap his chest a few times as I struggle to push myself upright again and force a glare. “You used my own trick against me. Channeling your magic into your flesh.”

He has the audacity to chuckle as he catches my arms so I can sit up. “I’m not so arrogant I won’t try to learn something new just because someone else thought of it before me.” His lips, still chilled, capture mine, sending shivers through my body. “You’re not cold, are you?”

Struggling to get my mind working again, I pull my fire to the surface of my skin, bathing it over him. “I know a good way to warm things back up.”

He sighs and twitches. “And that would be?”

“I’d rather show you than tell you.” I lean forward and focus, trailing a nearly burning hot tongue over the edge of his ear.

His arms go slack as he relaxes.

Spurred by a surge of fresh energy, I haul myself up, then off his lap. Grabbing my nightgown, I saunter toward his bedroom while plotting how to use this new magic touch against him. “I think I might be getting the hang of this.” I peer over my shoulder to stick my tongue out at him. “Care to join me and test this out?”

Sterling is behind me before I even make it through the door, and I know neither of us will get much sleep tonight.