Page 4 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Three

I barrel down the palace corridors, light from a combination of ever-lights and sconces casting long shadows on the ornate walls. The echo of my boots against the marble is obnoxious in the quiet of the night, but I don’t care. My mind is a tempest, my thoughts whirling with strategy and loss.

As I round a corner toward the king’s wing, a familiar figure blocks my path. Dark hair with silver accents styled in an efficient updo, the Lady of the Bedchamber wears a wrinkle-free, navy dress and a crisp white half apron.

With practiced grace, Rhiann Barda swings her skirt to the side as she dips her head. “Your Highness.”

This is new. Sterling’s cousin has never curtsied to me before.

“You’re up very late.” I falter just slightly. Despite the hour, her dress is pristine. “What’s going on?”

Her calloused fingers curl around my wrist, not harsh but insistent. “Come with me. I have something to show you. Something I think you’ll like.”

“Wait, my room is this way.” Confusion pulls at my tired mind, but she’s already guiding me down an unfamiliar route.

“Your old bedchamber no longer suits your status. You’ll see.”

Her head is high, her chin up, but under her prim facade, I glimpse the sadness eating at her. A new set of rooms is the least of my concerns.

“I will bring Knox home.” I squeeze her arm, fighting the tears that prick my eyes. “I don’t know how or when, but I will bring him back to us.”

Her eyes flick to me, and the tightness there softens. “I know. I trust in you, as my cousin does. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

After my meeting with the council, the belief she has in me, in my abilities, is a relief.

“Do I really need new rooms? I’ve just barely gotten used to the last ones.” I can’t help but grumble a little, ruining the touching moment between us. I’ve gone through several apartments here already…not counting my delightful stay in the prison cell.

“Haven’t I always ensured your new ones were better than the last?”

We stop before massive doors carved with the crest of a dragon entwined with a rose. Her lips twitch up in a gentle smile as she pushes them open to reveal a suite so grand it could swallow my previous quarters whole. “There are five rooms?—”

“Five?” My voice bounces off the high ceilings. “What am I going to do with five rooms?”

“Live as befits a queen.” The silver in her dark tresses catches the light as she bows again and waves me into the new apartment. “The dowager queen refuses to leave the rooms she shared with her late husband, so these have been sitting empty until now.”

Flipping my battle-loosened braid over a shoulder, I survey the luxurious accommodations. “This is extravagant.”

I step into the suite, my filthy boots sinking into plush, cloud-like rugs.

Tapestries woven in gold and silver threads drape the walls, depicting Tirene’s many victories.

Grand chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceilings and cast soft glowing light.

The visual is a stark contrast to the moonlit forests and star-kissed skies of the Hidden Valley I’ve been dreaming of lately.

“Crown Princess Lark,” Rhiann’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she draws my attention to the absurd extravagance around me, “this is your new sanctuary. Perhaps, your first one yet.”

She leads me through an office with polished mahogany desks, a sitting room large enough for a council meeting, and a dining area with a table set for ten.

In each space, Rhiann points out the amenities—a shelf of ancient tomes, an enchanted hearth that requires no firewood, and silken curtains that change color with a touch of magic.

In the master bedroom, I pause, the sight of the vast bed momentarily rooting me to the spot. It’s so large, I can’t even see the other side of it from this vantage point. I could sprawl out with my wings stretched to the fullest and still not reach the edges.

Who needs a bed that big? What’s the point? Did past royals share this same bed with…

I quickly shift my thoughts away from that line of thinking. Some things I don’t want to know, including the sex lives of Bardas past.

Rhiann urges me toward the bathing chamber next, and I’m met with the sight of a swimming-pool-sized tub, steam rising from the surface like mist over a morning pond.

“Here you can bathe away the stresses of court. It’s always hot because it’s fed from a natural hot spring.” She gestures gracefully to the rippling water. “Which is why this is always the queen’s quarters. Moving the bath is impossible and replicating it nearly so.”

“I’ve only heard stories of hot spring baths.” I stare longingly at the steaming water. “I can’t wait to soak in it, but I’ll have to settle for a shower tonight. I’m too dirty for a bath.”

“Unfortunately, this part of the palace is older and does not have the pipes required to install a shower.” Rhiann walks me out onto the private patio where another pool is fed by the overflow of the first bath.

This one is open to the sky and bordered by fragrant night-blooming flowers.

“For when you need cooler water or are too dirty to use the soaking tub inside. The drainpipes empty into the garden cistern.”

The thought intrigues me until realization sinks in. “Because nothing says ‘privacy’ quite like swimming naked in a palace full of people who can fly.”

Something tells me Rhiann’s pointed look is her equivalent of an eye roll.

“No one’s allowed to fly over the personal space of the king or queen.

” She gestures to a door, nearly hidden in the panels of the walls on the far side of the bathing chamber.

“Your maid’s chambers are back there. But I’ve not assigned one yet, so I’ll help you with your bath for now.

And I’ll keep watch to assure no one interrupts. ”

As always, the Lady of the Bedchamber understands my problem and has found a solution before I’d even considered things. “Rhiann, I could kiss you.”

Her lips tilt up in a half smile as she helps me out of my sooty, tattered clothing.

Rhiann’s deft fingers are gentle yet efficient. Together, we inspect the battered garments. “I’ll have extra riding uniforms sent up later.”

“Thanks.” Part of me longs for the familiarity of my well-worn gear. It’s been with me through thick and thin, unlike these cold but beautiful rooms.

Slipping into the water is like sinking into the very essence of luxury.

A bath fit for a goddess, not a battle-weary dragoncaller like me.

As I scrub away the grime of the last twenty-four hours, the water darkens to a murky gray, swirling with ash, mud, and blood.

It’s a stark reminder of the fight I can’t leave behind, no matter how many suites I’m given.

Still, I won’t cry. Can’t let Rhiann know how grim the situation is. Someone has to keep the hope alive.

Climbing out, I wrap myself in a plush towel that’s too soft against my calloused skin, but I’m too exhausted to use my elemental fire magic to dry off.

After my bath, Rhiann pats me down before helping me into a nightgown I’ve worn before.

At least my clothes have been transferred already. Trust Rhiann to do the impossible in practically no time. Then again, her legion of maids could rival the Tirenese army.

With a final, reassuring squeeze to my shoulder, Rhiann slips out, leaving me alone amid splendor that’s more alien than homely. I stand there, half dressed, wondering how I’m supposed to sleep in a bed that’s too wide and empty without Sterling by my side.

Still, the bed beckons me. The linens are crisp and cool, and the mattress swallows me when I lie down. It’s like I’m resting on a cloud. I close my eyes, but although this is the most luxurious bed I’ve ever been in, I can’t fall asleep. My mind refuses to shut off.

Not after everything that’s happened.

I roll onto my side, clutching a pillow to my chest. The cushion is an inadequate substitute for the man I love. The memory of his touch, once gentle and loving, now twisted into something grotesque and unrecognizable.

An image of Sterling—cold and devoid of warmth as he decapitated my friend—haunts me. I have to remind myself that wasn’t him. He’d never hurt someone I care about. Never hurt me.

As tears finally stream down my cheeks, soaking the silk under my head, I picture him. The real Sterling. Those beautiful brown eyes flecked with gold. Bronze skin, black shoulder-length hair that I love to run my fingers through—the only soft thing about him.

His powerful, silver-streaked wings that glimmer when they catch the light.

The stern set of his jaw with that faint scar above his chiseled jawline, and those full lips that drive me wild with desire whenever he kisses me or trails them over my body.

His empathy and kindness toward alicorns and dragons, and the deep bond he shares with both his friends and the soldiers he commands. His wicked sense of humor.

The love that shines in his eyes when he looks at me.

A love that Xenon stole from me.

Tossing the pillow aside, I crawl out of my cozy resting place.

My aching legs carry me across the room, bare feet padding silently on the thick rug until I reach the balcony doors. I throw them open, craving the chill of the early morning air.

A wrought iron and stone staircase spirals upward, inviting me higher. Curiosity wins over exhaustion, and I climb.

Atop the roof, the black velvet sky stretches endlessly.

A gust of wind teases my hair and whispers secrets of freedom in my ear.

I lift my gaze to the stars, each one a distant flame in the cold tapestry of the heavens.

Their light remains constant and unwavering, unlike the flicker of my fire magic, which seems inconsequential by comparison.

My thoughts drift back to Sterling, his stern face softened only in the moments we shared alone. He would’ve stood tall and commanding in these new rooms. Moved through them with a grace born not of etiquette studies as a prince but long hours on the training fields as a soldier.

He was born for this, not me. I was raised as a caged bird, with only Leesa as a friend.

My chest tightens. I clutch the stone parapet, the edges biting into my palms. This was supposed to be his coronation, his moment of triumph. Instead, I’m here, swimming in royal luxury I never wanted, while he’s?—

No.

I shove the thought away, refusing to spiral into despair. Still, the fear lingers, gnawing at the edges of my resolve.

I failed him.

And now, he’s lost, caught in a web of mind control that pitted him against us. Against me. My heart aches with the weight of it, with the love I still hold for a man who’s become my enemy.

How did we get here? After everything that happened to us, this was supposed to be our time together. His brother, the late King Jasper, ordered Sterling to pose as my flight instructor at Flighthaven and kidnap me away from Xenon.

Jasper intended to force me to marry him to solidify his claim to the throne his family stole from mine centuries ago. He had high hopes of producing dragoncaller heirs before the drachen attacked the palace.

After Jasper’s self-sacrificing death, Sterling and I no longer had to hide the truth of our relationship or how perfect we were for each other.

His ice to my fire. His battlefield experience to my studies.

All the obstacles between us disappeared, allowing Sterling to declare our betrothal.

No one and nothing should’ve been able to keep us apart.

A few more tears escape my tired eyes, tracing hot paths down my cheeks. Angrily, I swipe them away. If only I could’ve gotten close enough. My tears would’ve saved him.

I glare up at the sky. “Damn you, Sterling. What am I supposed to do without you?”

But the stars don’t answer, and the wind offers no relief.

There’s just me, Lark Axton, the crown princess of a kingdom in turmoil, standing alone on a rooftop and yearning for a love that’s slipped through her fingers like smoke.

The stars above blur as the biting chill of the early morning seeps into my bones. I clench my jaw, steeling myself against the hollowness twisting in my gut. I can’t stand here all night, lost in the what-ifs and if onlys.

With a heavy sigh, I descend the spiral staircase, the stone cool under my bare feet.

Inside, the opulence inside is suffocating. And the bed looks more like a coffin than a place for rest. Nonetheless, I sink into its embrace.

My mind races with plans and strategies that dissolve before they can take shape. How do I save a man who’s become my nemesis? How do I cleanse a land that seems to revel in its own corruption?

Fatigue starts to claim me, each blink heavier than the last. My heart aches with every beat. A constant reminder of the love lost. “Help me find the way,” I pray to the dark as the early light of dawn bleeds into my surroundings.

I drift off, thoughts tethered to a man who needs saving and a kingdom that needs healing.