Page 29 of Dreams and Dragon Wings (Clean Fairytales for Adults #2)
“The Corona Ignis,” I recite. “The ancient relic that confers power upon the dragon kings.” The more I remember, the faster I speak, excitement welling up inside me to match the hope blooming in my heart.
“It can only be worn by the true King of Drakara—whether that be a king chosen by birthright or one otherwise deemed worthy. Historically, the Corona has always rejected anyone who tried to usurp the throne by force.”
I look back toward Velda to find her watching me, looking pleasantly surprised. “You certainly know your Drakaran history.” An amused, albeit tired, smile quirks her lips. “One wonders where you came by such knowledge.”
“A history book,” I hedge, my mind spinning. Malice would want to keep Bene close. Which means he must be here.
Surely, Bene is here.
Velda heaves out a good-natured sigh and flits about the bedchamber, studying it herself. “We always did wonder what happened to Glorana’s copy of Drakara Through the Ages . She took great pains to translate that into the common tongue, you know.”
“Wait,” I murmur. A sudden thought makes me frown, the matter of the history tome immediately forgotten. “But Malice was originally trying to use his dark magic on me, not Bene. Why would he wish to use a sleep curse on me ?”
Velda gently corrects me: “There is no such thing as dark magic. All that the Great Weaver has made is good and just. It is Malice’s dark heart that allows him to twist that goodness for his own nefarious purposes.”
I just nod, fighting the urge to say, “I know.” When Velda says nothing more, I delicately point out, “But this still doesn’t answer my question.”
The silver pixie finishes her own inspection of the room and flutters back my way. “It does not, no,” she agrees. “But let us assume the curse was always meant for Bene. Why, then, would Malice attack you rather than him directly?”
She tilts her head to the side, her gentle gaze boring into mine.
“Perhaps because he suspected Bene would act on pure instinct if he did? Perhaps because he realized Bene would panic and use his body as a shield rather than take the time to weave a proper counter-spell if he thought you were in danger?”
Each word she speaks is a fresh dagger seeking to carve my heart from my chest. Malice used me to hurt Bene. He used my terror to trick Bene into flinging himself headlong into a sleeping curse.
Because he knew Bene would do so.
My feelings clamor against each other in a storm all their own. What does it all mean? Bene flying to my aid though he knew what would become of him if he did? Bene throwing himself in between me and Malice without a second thought?
It feels as if the answer is obvious, but I hardly dare hope. Not after so many years of wishing Bene and I could be more. Not after so many years of Bene insisting that I am his dearest friend.
Surely, that can mean only one thing: he saved me because he loves me. As a friend.
And because I am fated to be his queen.
Velda misjudges my prolonged silence. “You should get some rest,” she softly urges. “We can speak more once you have slept.”
“No,” I say with more authority than I feel.
“I can’t sleep now. I need you to teach me all I will need to know to escape this place.
To find Bene. To save him.” My fingers twist in the ruined skirts of my gown, long since dried from the rain but ruined beyond all hope.
“I must learn how to weave. I must…” I wet my lips.
“I must learn what it means to be a Therya’kai . ”
A small smile curves Velda’s lips as she drifts closer to me until her silvery form fills my vision.
“It will be my honor to serve as your Kavreth’vor —your Wisdom-Bearer—and help you become the queen you were always meant to be.
” She hesitates. “… After you have gotten some rest. Please. You will need your strength for what is to come next.”
She’s right. I know she’s right.
But guilt still oozes its way into my heart when I finally relent and lie back on the soft mattress. Something within my pocket crinkles.
“I will only sleep for a little while,” I concede as I reach into my pocket and pull forth the letter hidden within: Bene’s letter.
“You will sleep for as long as you need,” Velda counters.
“But…” I trail off, my fingers trembling as I unfold the old missive. Rain and river water have damaged it beyond repair, the words now blurred across the parchment so that I can no longer read them. Only Bene’s closing line and signature are still legible. But those, I know by heart.
Faithfully Yours, Bene .
My throat suddenly thick, I whisper, “… Bene needs us.”
“A man does not thirst to death in a single day.” My pixie companion sounds quite far away now when she solemnly adds, “We have, the Great Weaver willing, anywhere from three days to a week to find him and my sisters before we can assume the worst.”
Three days.
I have but three days to learn all that I need to learn, to escape Malice, to find Bene.
To save him.
“Velda?” I prompt as she pulls a blanket over me, gently tucking me in as Mama always used to do when I was younger. I roll to my side, Bene’s ruined letter resting against my cheek.
Strangely, it brings me comfort.
“Hmm?”
“What does… selira feyra mean?”
“It means ‘pretty fae,’” Velda answers without a moment’s hesitation. “Why do you ask?”
Despite my current predicament, I still must resist the urge to laugh.
Bene always told me it meant “sweet friend.”
“No reason,” I mumble as sleep finally claims me, tugging me under into a tumultuous fever dream.
A dream filled with storm-choked skies, wilting roses, and thorny brambles that stretch as far as the eye can see.