Page 74 of I Dream of Dragons

The problem is… betrothal marks don’t work that way.Shouldn’twork that way. One should hear echoes of thoughts, feel echoes of feelings, feel splinters of pain, but not this. Not this cruel tether.

And Mars… I didn’t expect him to use and abuse me like this. The betrayal chokes me.

I want to ask if he’ll have Jai hanged for trying to kill him, but he can’t, can he? Sweat beads on my forehead. It runs down my neck. I feel cold at the thought.

But no, not possible. The ancient laws of the tournament say that Jai has to fight in all three trials or die in them. The king can’t get rid of him until the tournament is over, and even then… if he needs Phaethon to open the gates, then he can’t get rid ofJai at all, unless Phaethon can jump to another body, another mind…

Is it possible? Would anyone else be strong enough mentally and physically to contain the strongest Eosphor? The king would have found another vessel, if that were the case.

Gods, why can’t I think of the king as Mars?

It’s Mars.

Mars.

I’d like for him to take my hand as we hurry through the palace. Or at least slow down to match my pace. My feet may not hurt like they used to at first, but after cutting up the soles of my feet in the first trial and the snake poison in my leg, I’m not that fast.

Why is he doing this? And why does my heart feel like it’s bleeding? The awe I’d felt when I realized it was him is starting to dim, and yet how can I forget about my first love?

I jog to reach the king, acutely aware of the presence of the guards behind us. “About Athdara…”

“He’s jealous,” the king says, his eyes glittering like the jewels set in his tall crown.

“What? Jealous?”

“It’s understandable.”

I frown. “I don’t… It doesn’t matter. He said you stole from him… what did he mean?”

“He is a disturbed man. He makes up stories about his past because he doesn’t remember it.”

“He doesn’t remember… It’s true, then.”

“I don’t… recall everything about the past.”Jai had said that.

He never told me any stories about his past, real or made up. Why would he? We haven’t had much time together, other than running for our lives or getting off.

And the last thought warms up my neck, bringing back not only images but also sensations, and that feeling of coming home?—

“We have to talk,” the king says, turning a corner, leaving me once more to hurry after him, his guards following us.

“Of course we do,” I rush to agree. “Why did you put such a mark on me? What are you trying to achieve?”

“Let us not speak of this in the corridors of the palace,” he says. A reasonable request, I suppose. “Follow me.”

He strides on and stops in front of a set of bronze double doors inlaid with gems, forming symbols. Before I have the time to admire them more, he opens them with a mighty shove and enters, his pale hair billowing behind him.

“Is this another part of your hidden apartments?” I ask as I step inside, “or a…” My breath catches. “Alibrary?”

By the sleeping Gods…

Shelves that stretch from the floor to the two-story-high ceiling, a skylight of glass and filigree bronze making up the roof. A rolling ladder stands on one side. The shelves are made of dark mahogany that match the long table and chairs standing on one side. On the other side is a fireplace and a set of comfy-looking armchairs.

“This is the Sacred Palace library,” he says. “Much smaller than the one at the Royal State Palace which contains the knowledge of many worlds.”

“A small one? The other one is bigger?”

“It is,” he confirms.