Page 32 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Thirty-Two

The chill of the night wraps around me like a cloak as three dragons’ powerful wings slice through the sky. After the drachen left, Nailah returned, bringing the black dragon with her. Beside us, he flanks our flight, a brooding shadow with scales that drink in the starlight.

I don’t know where he’s been or what he’s been doing since I last saw him in captivity. And I don’t know how he was captured and enslaved for the second time. But I want him to know he’s always welcome in Tirene. I transmit that thought to the black dragon, painting a picture of the capital.

He pauses mid-beat, the air humming with the weight of his gratitude. With a nod-like gesture that’s comically human, he banks northward, disappearing into the heavy night.

My mind wanders back to my time at Flighthaven and the day I fed the dragons with Sterling. The time I inadvertently connected with the black dragon. Then later, when I learned he’d escaped.

Mygist. Out of nowhere, the name comes to me. Not identical to how it happened with Cailleach, when the ancient power radiating off him caused his name to appear in my head. No, Mygist is the name I’ve chosen for the black dragon.

Every dragon deserves a name.

Minutes stretch into hours. We press on, and I use the time to recount the visions from the valley to Bastian. After a while, we settle into a comfortable silence.

After a short eternity, there’s a familiar pulse in the air. The warm buzz of dragon minds that marks the edge of Tirene. The palace comes into view ahead, its spires piercing the night with a glow that fends off the darkness.

Relief floods through me. The lights grow brighter, beckoning us closer. It’s funny how this place, once foreign and filled with hidden threats, has become something like home. Maybe it’s the high walls and majestic dragons that prompt that feeling of safety. Or perhaps it’s the way the people inside have accepted me, flaws and all. Well, some of them.

But as I think of Sterling—the way his eyes soften when they meet mine, or how his lips curve into a secret smile just for me—I realize it’s not the stone or the magic that anchors me here.

Home isn’t a place. It’s a person. And I belong with Sterling.

Hope lives here among these towers and dragons, even with the ever-present threat of the drachen.

A ripple of emotion stirs in my chest. Not mine, but Dame’s. She reaches out from her hidden den within the mountains to welcome me back.

I return her greeting while making a silent vow.

Your babies will be safe. I promise.

As we start our descent into the fire paddock, I push away the whispers of worry that cling to the corners of my mind. For now, I let myself enjoy the happiness that flares bright within me, guiding me down to the place and the person I’m starting to call home.

Kaida’s wings beat the air with a rhythmic thud, slowing our descent into the paddock. I lean forward, whispering words of thanks into his scaly ear as his massive claws touch down on the warm stone ground. The night is cool, but the stones still retain the day’s heat, reminding me of the sun’s relentless gaze.

We dismount, and just one weary attendant shuffles out to greet us, his eyes weighted with sleep.

“Can you please fetch them some water? And something to eat. They’ve had a long flight.” I nod at the attendant who scurries away, leaving us to tend to the dragons ourselves.

Though the dragons often hunt for their own food, the dragontenders supplement their diet.

With the now content dragons munching on fresh meat, Bastian and I head toward the king’s wing. Despite the late hour, the palace is alive with activity, and the air buzzes with tension. Maids dart by with laden trays, and squires hurry with messages clutched in their hands.

I look to the guard standing at one of the many doors to the courtyard. “Is there some kind of trouble?”

He regards me with a seriousness that tightens my stomach. “The crown prince has been locked away with the royal council, sending pages and maids running back and forth for them. Everyone’s on edge. But nothing has been declared.”

Relief dizzies me. Until that moment, I didn’t realize how worried I was about what we’d find upon our return.

Bastian glances down the corridor. “Seems there’s never a dull moment.”

When we reach the first intersection of halls, we find a small grouping of nobles talking in hushed voices. They stop and stare at us as we pass.

“Wouldn’t know what to do with one if it came.” I try to shake off the heaviness.

Unease unfurls within me, a stark contrast to the happiness I felt moments ago. With every step toward Sterling, my anticipation builds, tempered now by the weight of the crown we both bear.

But as we reach the king’s wing, a subtle shift in atmosphere wraps around me like a shroud. The royal guards lining the hall scrutinize our every move. Their eyes seem to scrutinize me. Searching for what, I’m not entirely sure.

“Evening.” I flash them a wide smile while trying to decipher their moods.

All I get in return are flat expressions. Are those looks of expectation or suspicion? If only I could read human emotions as easily as dragons. The thought tickles me.

Imagine being bombarded with the secret feelings of everyone in this grand palace. No, thank you. That would be a clusterfuck.

Nearly laughing out loud at the absurdity, I turn down the corridor toward Bastian’s chambers. As we draw near, he stops and pulls me into a hug.

The gesture catches me off guard, and a knot of emotion forms in my throat. What would growing up with an older brother have been like?

At least I have him now. While no one can ever take my mother’s place, gaining Bastian helps soothe the sharpest cuts from her loss. Once we figure out how to heal Leesa of her corruption, I’ll have my sister back too.

“Keep your head up, Bastian.” I return the hug, then pull away. “I don’t know if using my tears will work on Leesa, or how to even go about it, but we’ll figure this out. First, though, I need to see Sterling.”

“Well, of course. You’re my sister. So I expect great things from you.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but at least he’s trying. “I’m going to wash off the grime from our travels, then check in with the guards who’ve been with Leesa. Might see if I stumble on any helpful information about how phoenix tears work in the Royal Archives.”

“Let me know what you find out.”

With a wordless nod, he steps inside his chamber and closes the door.

My stomach growls, reminding me of its neglect, and I quicken my pace as I head to my own rooms. Once inside, I don’t waste any time before ringing for Rhiann.

In the bathing chamber, I splash cool water on my face and neck, scrubbing off the remnants of the journey. The sensation is grounding, a simple pleasure amid chaos.

For a moment, I cast a longing glance at the tub.

“Well?” Rhiann enters my bedchamber, remaining close to the door. “Was your trip a success?”

As usual, she doesn’t mince words.

“Yes, but there was an army at our backs. We had to run out of there as soon as we got what we needed. Seems trouble doesn’t know how to take a day off. But I have a lot to tell you. I’d prefer to explain once we’re all gathered.” I dry my hands and walk back into the bedchamber to face her. “How are things here?”

Rhiann’s expression remains as unreadable as ever behind the veil of duty. Her silver-streaked raven hair shines even in the low light, a stark contrast to her all-white mourning attire. “Agnar is outside Knox’s chambers, waiting.”

“Waiting?” My eyebrows knit together. What does that mean? “For what?”

“Perhaps you should go and inquire.” She tilts her head toward the door with an elegance that borders on evasion.

We shuffle through the halls, the palace’s opulence nearly hidden in the shadows cast by the combination of large lanterns and ever-lights hanging from the incredibly tall ceilings of the first floor.

Agnar’s tall frame comes into view first, his broad shoulders rolling with each agitated turn he takes while pacing before the guarded doors. His piercing blue eyes are dull with weariness, and my heart goes out to the man.

“Trying to wear a pattern in the floors?”

He doesn’t meet my gaze. “Working on it.”

Guilt stabs my heart. I was so focused on the journey to track down phoenix tears that I almost forgot the tragedy that occurred the night before I left. Now that I remember, a fresh wave of grief crashes over me, and I know what I’m experiencing is nothing compared to Agnar’s and Sterling’s pain.

Poor Agnar. He hasn’t had a moment to deal with losing Blair.

The royal guards shift at my approach, their stern faces set like chiseled stone. Their eyes follow me, their gazes sharp, but they offer no words. They’re just statues guarding secrets I’m not privy to yet. A flash of irritation courses through me, tempered by the knowledge that these men are just another set of pawns in a game far bigger than any of us.

I sidle up next to Agnar, taking his arm in an effort to pause his fretful pacing. “Please tell me Sterling’s not…” I can’t force myself finish that sentence.

Agnar shakes his head, patting my arm. “Nothing like that. But it’s complicated, Lark. He’s shut himself in with the royal council. Won’t see anyone else.”

“Define ‘complicated.’” I glance at Rhiann, who’s silently listening to the conversation.

“From what I gather,” he leans in close, speaking in a hushed tone so the nearby guards can’t overhear, “one of our spies showed up this morning. Ever since, things have been off. Military movements in Aclaris are happening. Something about mobilizing troops. All hush-hush.”

Unease tightens my gut. “What? But why?”

Agnar shrugs, his usual confidence lacking. “Beats me. None of it makes tactical sense. Not to me, anyway.”

I blow out a frustrated breath. “What about Leesa?”

“Stable, last I checked.” There’s a softness to his voice, despite the fact that my sister murdered his friend. “Still in her cell, surrounded by guards.”

“Good.” The relief loosens the tightness in my shoulders. “At least there’s?—”

My words cut off as a growl from my belly echoes through the corridor, loud enough to draw smirks from even the stoic guards. Heat creeps up my cheeks, but I lift my chin.

Agnar raises an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you ate?”

Great question. When was the last time I ate? “Umm…I think I ate some dried meat this morning?” I attempt a joke to lighten the somber mood. “Food just doesn’t hold the same appeal if my big, brave food taster doesn’t try it first.”

“Wow, I’m touched. Truly.” He clasps his hand over his heart. “Now, how about we get something to eat? It’ll give Sterling more time to finish whatever it is he’s doing. Food first, then plotting.”

“That was a joke,” I mumble. “I think we can dispense with your tasting duty now. I’ll be fine.”

“We can dispense with it just soon as Knox gives the okay.”

“Let’s not stand around here.” Rhiann motions to the closed door and the dour guards. “Your meal should be delivered to your rooms by now, Lady Lark. I know you like to eat your meals with the crown prince, but tonight, perhaps this arrangement will be better. These things will take as long as they take, and not a moment less.”

Agnar grunts his agreement, casting another side-eye at the guards. Their presence is like a constant itch.

I wonder if he’s ever been kept waiting at Sterling’s door before. “Is this normal? Working into the night like he’s already wearing the crown? I take it he wasn’t showing any signs of corruption?”

“He showed no signs of aggression, and with that many people inside, we would know if anything changed. As for normal? Perhaps not.” Rhiann releases a weary sigh, and her tone softens. “Who else can make the decisions for the kingdom in these times? The dowager queen? She barely has any strength left after giving dampening lessons day in and day out, and after a time, her mind starts to drift.”

The guards shift on their feet, discomfort clear even beneath their stoic masks.

My heart tugs at the mention of Alannah, whose frailty remains at constant odds with her determination. “And how are the lessons going?”

“Better than expected.” Agnar lifts his chin with pride. “We’re getting the hang of it. Aren’t we, Rhiann?”

“Indeed.” She nods, though I catch the flicker of doubt that crosses her face. The shadow quickly disappears, leaving me to wonder if I imagined it.

“Have you managed it?” The question slips out before I can stop myself, driven by both curiosity and a sliver of apprehension.

“Of course.” There’s something in her eyes that doesn’t quite match her confident tone.

“Good. Because until we face any drachen again, we won’t know for sure.” I trace the sign to ward off evil across my chest, a small gesture, but one that carries weight in these uncertain times.

Rhiann blinks, taken aback, then mirrors the motion, her movements precise. “Go ahead and eat. I’m sure there’s plenty for Agnar too.”

“I’ll at least walk with you.” Agnar pivots from the path he’d been pacing. “You ready?”

“More than ready. Thanks, Rhiann.” My throat tightens as I turn away.

As we walk, Agnar keeps glancing over until finally I can take no more. “Spit it out, Agnar. What’s bothering you?”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Nothing. I just…”

“Just what? This isn’t like you, and it’s starting to freak me out. What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. Which was why I was going to talk to Sterling and hopefully get things settled before you got back.” Agnar curses low and slow under his breath. “People were commenting on your disappearance. You left the same day troops started moving in Aclaris. Rumors got started, no doubt initiated by our opinionated group of nationalists.”

Waiting for him to continue doesn’t work. “What are the rumors? I can already assume they’re bad since you don’t want to repeat them.”

He chews his lip for a few moments as we walk. “They’re all stupid. If anyone, even those who don’t know you, thought about them, they’d realize they’re nonsensical. They claim you’re a double agent for Aclaris. Or only cozying up to Sterling in order to get access to the throne.”

I roll my eyes. “Sterling declared a truce with Aclaris and is openly working with them against my better judgment. Also, he’s already announced we’re betrothed. These rumors at least made sense before, but now?”

We reach my chambers to find a cart of food waiting in the hallway.

Agnar opens the door for me. “I did tell you they were stupid.”

“True. Let’s see what we have here.” I try to muster some enthusiasm as I push the cart inside, pulling off the cloth to reveal an assortment of bread, cheese, cold cuts of meat, fruit, and some kind of soup.

“Looks good. But I can’t be sure until I try it.” Agnar snatches the bread from my grasp, a mischievous glint in his azure eyes. “Official taste tester on duty.” He stuffs half a slice in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before giving me a thumbs-up. “All clear. But there’s way too much food here for just one person. Be a shame for it to go to waste.”

I roll my eyes and grab my own piece of bread, the crust golden and inviting. My thoughts drift back to Leesa, to the unnatural thing that’s taken her over, and my heart aches. Tomorrow. I’ll face it all tomorrow. For now, I need to eat, check on Sterling, and get some godsdamned rest.

After finishing the first slice, I reach for a second. That’s when I spot the parchment nestled among the dishes.

A note with crisply folded edges.

Curiosity piqued, I pick it up and read aloud. “Now that you’ve chased down the lineage of the phoenix, you should come visit me. You have my word no harm will come to you.”

The playfulness drains from Agnar’s face as he leans over to inspect the note. “Who is this from?”

“The man who abducted me from the halls outside the throne room last week. He’s the one who gave me the map to the Lost City. I think we can trust him.”

“You think ?” His brows knit together. “He fucking kidnapped you, Lark. Map or no map, I don’t trust him. I’m checking the rest of your food.”

I step back to let him do his work.

He moves from dish to dish, sampling tiny bits, and sniffing the contents like a hound on the scent. When he gets to the soup, he hesitates, then tips the bowl over, spilling its contents onto the tray. As the liquid splashes against the silver, an acrid tang rises in the air.

“Shit. This has been tampered with.” Agnar scowls at the soup. “A sleeping herb strong enough to knock out a bear.”

“Or a dragoncaller.” I swallow against the sudden dryness in my throat.

Someone wants me incapacitated, vulnerable. The game has changed. The stakes are higher than ever. Was this the same man who helped me last time? Or is someone pretending to be him in order to lure me away from the rest of the palace?

“Whoever sent this,” Agnar plucks the note from my fingers, “we need to find them. Before they find another way to get to you.”

“Lead the way.” I leave the rest of the food untouched, my appetite gone.