Page 46 of Crown of the Dunes (The Ballan Desert #2)

A soft sigh escaped my lips, and I leaned back against him, letting his torso support my shoulders as he worked his way down my arms. Now that he was expelling the residual tension I held on to, it seemed that it had been all that was keeping me awake.

My eyelids grew heavy, and I could no longer suppress a jaw-cracking yawn.

Erix’s hands disappeared, and I blinked groggily. “Hopefully that will help with the soreness so we can spar again tomorrow.”

Cloth rustled as he moved to step away. I reached out, fingers grabbing on to the edge of his tunic .

“Stay. Please,” I said. I toyed with the edge of the fabric in my grasp as I met his gaze in the mirror.

We had slept side by side under the stars many times, but this request felt weightier somehow. As if the stone walls surrounding us gave more meaning to our actions—my desire for closeness. Having him near now would only make it harder if he were torn from my side again, but I couldn’t help myself.

Slowly he nodded. I shifted in my seat, but before I had moved to stand, he bent forward. On arm came around my back while he slid the other under my knees and lifted me from the stool.

A soft squeak that was distinctly un-queenly escaped me, but for the moment, that didn’t matter as Erix cradled me to his chest and walked toward the bed.

He climbed onto it on his knees, so he could lay me down on the nest of pillows at the head.

I dug my fingers into his tunic, pulling him down with me, so we laid side by side with my forehead resting against his sternum.

“I’m filthy from the stables,” he protested with no force. “I’m going to get your bed dirty.”

I hummed dismissively. “I prefer sleeping outdoors anyway. You’re just bringing the outdoors inside to me.”

A soft exhale that might have passed as the beginning of a laugh escaped his chest. “You truly are a feral little creature.”

“I have to be to keep up with a monster like you.” I wrapped my arms around him, and my palms rested flat on his back.

The texture of the methodical raised ridges marching across his shoulder blades pressed through his shirt.

A hollow burning in my gut at the thought of how they got there began rising, interrupting my pleasant sleepiness.

Erix twitched, and I realized I had projected my anger across the bond between us.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

His arms tightened around me, strong as metal bands but still somehow comforting. “Don’t be. I’ve been angry at everything for so long. It’s nice to have somebody be angry for me.”

“I’ll always be angry for what they did to you. Too angry,” I said, surprising vehemence cutting through the relaxed haze .

A long silence stretched, and I thought Erix had let the thread of conversation drop. I burrowed closer, breathing in the salt and leather scent that clung to him, not minding the quiet. Closeness was the language we spoke best anyway. A comforting darkness enveloped me.

“I like you angry.”

The words were murmured into the top of my head, more whispered vibrations than anything else, but I heard them, nonetheless. I smiled as sleep took me, more comfortable than I had been in weeks.

My eyes opened to the dim purple light of the moments just before dawn. I jolted at the silhouette of a man standing over my bed but settled immediately at the familiar twinge of wild magic that twitched in my belly in response.

“Erix?” I asked sleepily.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured. “I wanted to climb down before it got fully light. It makes it easier not to be spotted.”

Disappointment landed like a weight in my heart, but I nodded. I couldn’t make out his face in the dark, but the light tread of his boots told me he walked toward the balcony doors.

“Come back tonight?” I asked the open darkness.

Silence stretched, and I wondered if he had already left.

“Of course.”

A rustle of cloth and a soft grunt marked him lowering himself over the edge of the balcony. I rolled onto my back and sighed, knowing that I would be getting no more sleep before another long day.

The wood of the throne was uncomfortably rigid beneath me, and my muscles itched with the urge to reposition once more. I fought against it, telling myself that if I could sit comfortably on Daiti for days on end, I could manage a few hours in a hard chair.

Even more uncomfortable than the chair was the weight of dozens of gazes on me, brushing over my skin like a physical touch. Like incidental contact still sometimes did, but it made me want to flinch.

Instead, I held still, biting the inside of my cheek as Torin, the Archon of Trade, beckoned the next petitioner forward. I tried to force a smile on my face as I greeted the woman, but I only managed a slight spasm.

The woman shrunk in on herself with a look of concern on her face, telling me I had not succeeded in putting on a welcoming expression.

“What help can I offer you today?” I asked.

At least this part felt genuine. I hated sitting on the throne that I had never even seen Queen Ginevra use.

I had pledged myself to Kelvadan out of a desire to serve—to earn the sense of belonging that I hungered for so deeply it was a physical sensation.

This part of being a leader allowed me to at least fulfill that pledge when I seemed to struggle with most others.

“I seek a job in the palace,” the woman said, looking at her feet.

I tried to catch her gaze, but she wouldn’t look up. A heaviness settled into my ribcage at another petitioner who seemed uncomfortable in my presence.

“Why?” I asked, curious.

She chewed her lip, eyes drifting up to my feet but refusing to look any higher. The quiet stretched, and somebody in the hall cleared their throat. I shook myself. It was an impertinent question to ask in front of an audience, and it wasn’t a difficult request to grant, whatever the reason.

I opened my mouth to spare her from answering.

“My husband is not a good man.” The words tumbled out of her, as if she wanted to cut me off before I could refuse her. “I want to leave, but I need a place to go.”

I pulled a sharp breath in between my teeth and lifted my chin.

In the clans, if a wife or a husband wished to separate, they would simply grab another tent from the clan’s supplies and begin sleeping elsewhere.

Or they could just lay their sleeping mat out next to one of the communal fires.

This was yet another one of the complexities of living in a city made of stone, where everybody had assigned, stationary dwellings, that still seemed odd to me.

“You’re welcome at the palace,” I announced with a nod. Anybody should be able to search for a home where they felt safe and welcome.

A shuffling sound marked one of the archons, stationed just behind me, approaching. I stifled a sigh, looking up to find Malachi, the Archon of Coin, leaning in.

“It would take me time to find her a position here,” he started.

My teeth creaked as I gritted them to avoid snarling. What was the point in being a queen if every action I took to aid the people of Kelvadan was faced with caveats and arguments?

“What’s your name?” I asked the woman, ignoring Malachi. If I gave him my attention, I might say something that would get me into trouble.

The woman looked between the archon and me for a moment. “Adette.”

“You can be my attendant in my chambers,” I said.

I had resisted having somebody help me with dressing or bathing or even tidying my rooms to this point.

I always felt on the wrong foot when somebody tried to aid me with things I could do for myself—and I feared it might make Erix’s nightly presence more difficult to hide.

But if giving Adette the position would keep Malachi quiet, then I would cope.

Adette nodded thankfully and shuffled aside.

I was just about to lean back in relief when a commotion sounded just outside the door.

My brows knit together, and the magic in my belly bubbled forebodingly at the sound of raised voices and a subdued scuffling.

I was almost on my feet when the double doors banged open, revealing a group of a dozen or so people.

As they marched down the long hall toward me, the glint of silver steel and flashes of colorful sashes drew my eyes to their waists.

These were clansmen.

My heart leaped into my throat, and my fingers spasmed, as if they wished to grasp a sword .

Aderyn stepped from her station on my right to stand between me and the group, sword already drawn.

“Riders, seize them,” she demanded.

I was on my feet before anybody else could move. I was supposed to lead Kelvadan to peace, not more war with the clans. “Wait!” I shouted.

The riders stationed along the walls hesitated, clearly weighing whose orders they should obey.

“These clansmen come before you fully armed at a time when there is no love lost between the clans and Kelvadan,” Aderyn warned.

“We refused to relinquish our weapons because we feared we would not be welcomed here in Kelvadan,” one of the men in the group of clansmen spoke, projecting his voice so it echoed against the unforgiving stone walls. “It seems we were right to do so.”

“Why have you come here?” I asked, taking a few steps forward to stand beside Aderyn.

I glanced out of the corner of my eye in time to see a muscle in her jaw tick.

I was sure she would lecture me about making it difficult for her to keep me safe later, but for now I was more concerned with the scene before me.

“We come in peace,” the lead clansmen said, holding up his hands, palms forward and open. “And we have ridden to Kelvadan for the same reasons all do. To find sanctuary.”

Familiar words rang in my head, and I echoed them out loud. “All are welcome in Kelvadan.”

They were the words that had kept me clinging to life during the decade I spent alone at my oasis. Even an exile like me might have a home if I could just make it to the Great City.

“Your riders seem to disagree, as they tried to apprehend us and our families as soon as we approached the gate.”

Heat began to spread under my skin at the accusation. Just as Kelvadan had never before had a gate, I had never known it to have such practices, but it appeared things were different in dire times. “Is this true?” I demanded of one of the riders that had accompanied the men into the hall .

“We were afraid they were here to launch another attack. It barely been a month since the clans marched on the city,” she responded, and I didn’t miss the way her hand clenched and unclenched on the pommel of her saber as she said it.

“A dozen riders and their families are not an army,” I said through gritted teeth.

“They could be here as spies from the clans,” Aderyn pointed out. “They did not seem ready to give up their fight when they last retreated.”

I took a deep breath in through my nose, willing the rising flow of magic in my blood to abate so I could think. “What are you seeking sanctuary from?” I directed my question to the clansmen.

“What all seek protection from in the Ballan Desert these days. Terrors of legends are rising, and infighting between the clans has made it difficult for us to keep our families safe among the sands. We had hoped for the protection of the city walls,” he said, his voice steady, though his eyes darted to the riders around him, all still waiting with hands resting on their weapons.

My hands tightened into fists as I considered how dire the situation must be growing amongst the clans for them to chance this journey.

The desert shredded farther with each passing day, and despite Erix spending his nights searching for the secret to break the blood glass, we were no closer to getting the heart and restoring our home.

I was failing the desert, and I could not bring myself to fail these people too, even if the cost was further dissention in Kelvadan.

“My Queen,” Torin shuffled up beside me, his hands clasped within the billowing sleeves of his dark green robes.

“I would advise against offering them sanctuary. Our stores of grain are dwindling rapidly, and more mouths to feed will only deplete them faster. The people of Kelvadan will not take kindly to your attempts to accommodate others when you can barely care for them.”

The heat that had been smoldering under my skin burst into full-fledged flames of fury as I whirled toward him.

“Was this city not carved from the mountainside with the purpose of being a haven for any in the Ballan Desert who wished to call it home?” I spat, the heat of fire burning in my throat so intensely that the words tasted of ash.

“Do not forget that I once came to this city, clinging to life and asking for the same shelter. And I rose to be your Champion, did I not?”

My hands trembled, and the sound began to be sucked out of the room. I fought against the current of magic rising in my blood.

“This situation is different,” Torin stammered.

My hands clenched into fists, and a horrible cracking rent the room. It cut through the silence that had pushed in on me as the desert threatened to pull me away in its inexorable flow. I gasped as I came back to myself.

Torin’s gaze was fixed on my feet, and I followed his eyeline down to the stone floor.

Where once it had been a smooth, solid slab cut cleanly from the mountainside, now a large crack ran down it.

Running from the throne at one end to the doors at the other, it divided the throne room nearly in two.

“ Sands . It’s true.”

The murmured voice of one of the clansmen cut through the unnatural still air of the room.

“They will be staying,” I said, my voice low and hard.

Torin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he only nodded, offering no more argument. Still, as he shuffled back toward the side of the room, he exchanged a look with Malachi that made my hackles rise.

I pushed those thoughts and turned back to Aderyn and the clansmen to make arrangements for them. I would not turn these people away, no matter the cost. The lonely exile that still lurked under the skin of a queen would not allow it.