Page 40 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Thirty-Three

My wings ache as I descend, the muscles trembling from the strain of holding steady.

Beside me, Sterling is pale.

He stumbles as we land, and I reach out to stabilize him, shocked by the shivers that rack his frame.

“You okay?” My mouth is dry, my throat raw from breathing in the acrid smoke of battle.

He nods, but weariness is etched into every line of his face. “Just tired. Merging magic takes a lot out of you.”

“Tell me about it.” I blink hard, trying to regain my equilibrium as falling ash encapsulates me from every direction.

It’s not just the physical toll of the fight that’s wearing on me or the drain on my magic reserves. I gaze around at the destruction. The shattered stone, the scorched earth, the oily black puddles that used to be drachen. Everything being slowly buried in growing piles of ash.

My heart sinks into my stomach.

We won this round. But at what cost? Who did we lose today?

Sterling’s arm slides around my waist, pulling me close.

“What are we going to do?” Defenders and observers alike are staring, as if seeing us for the first time. “The drachen keep getting stronger. If Narc completely awakens again?—”

“We’ll find a way to stop him.” His jaw is set, his resolve shining through the exhaustion. “We have to.”

I nod. He’s right. We don’t have a choice. The fate of the kingdom, of the whole world, rests on our shoulders.

But what if we’re already too late?

As I stand here amid the wreckage, my knees shake. Dread weighs on my heart.

Royal guards drop down and run up to join me, forming a solid wall at my back.

Dragons snort and stamp as they land in the paddock, lashing their tails.

Heads swing low, hunting for any signs of survivors.

Their eagerness to keep fighting has everyone giving them a wide berth.

All the way up to the third-floor balconies, people peek out from behind heavy curtains.

Some people are still screaming and running, their faces contorted with fear and confusion. And anger. So much anger. Directed at me, at the guards, at the drachen, at the world.

Sterling’s arms tighten around me as the palace guards converge on us, their armor clanking.

I scan their faces, searching for Rhiann, but she’s disappeared from the balcony. The dutiful Lady of the Bedchamber no doubt hustled back inside to manage the chaos. Or to care for the child she was protecting.

A pained groan prompts me to turn my head.

Alannah slumps against a guard, her lined face ashen, her knees shaking like they might give out any second. Grabbing Sterling’s shirt, I spin him around to face her.

He curses under his breath. “I have to help her. Will you be all right?”

“Of course.” I nod, trying to project confidence I don’t quite have. “Go. Your mother needs you.”

He kisses my forehead, then sprints toward her, calling orders to the guards as he goes.

I watch him, heart clenching with a mix of love and concern. In moments like this, I am reminded of why I fell for him in the first place.

The rustling of wings alerts me to Agnar’s presence. He drops to the ground beside me, blue eyes scanning me from head to toe.

He scrubs a hand over his soot-covered face, revealing the faint dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose. “You hurt?”

I shake my head, shedding fine flakes that had settled on my hair. “I’m fine. The drachen?”

“Dead. They showed up all at once. Fuckers nearly wiped out the west wall before Alannah managed to blast it up and break it apart. I guess she was just out for a stroll and was right there when it started. Only a few were able to take shelter under the wind shield she put up.”

If she hadn’t been there…

I shudder and push the thought away.

Can’t think about almosts and might-have-beens. We survived. That’s what matters.

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders, ignoring the fatigue dragging at my limbs. There will be time to rest later. Right now, my people need me.

I shift to face the guards, wings flaring out behind me, the dark brown feathers glinting with hints of burgundy and gold in the sunlight as I waft them to dispel the settling soot.

“Get word to the healers. We’re going to need them.

Have water users wash this mess away. And send scouts to the guard towers in the south.

I’d like to know how so many drachen congregated to attack without us noticing. ”

The guards salute and disperse, already shouting commands. I release a slow breath. This is obviously Xenon’s doing. Lashing out over our intrusion into his lands.

As some of the council members descend, the courtyard falls into chaos again. Moise reaches us first, his robes covered in grime and dust from the fighting. He heaves for breath, hands braced on his knees.

Serle follows close behind, his fine clothes still pristine. Clearly, he didn’t lift a finger to help.

Typical.

Breann limps into view, her ankle swelling a bit more with every step. She must’ve hurt herself in the commotion.

Bron joins us last. Giving Breann a shoulder to lean on, he helps her shuffle over, carrying his spear loosely in his other hand.

Concern is carved into the lines of his young face as his eyes assess me for injuries. “Your Highness! Where were you when the attack happened? I searched everywhere to ensure you were protected.”

“As did I. But you were nowhere in the palace.” Serle’s eyes gleam with barely concealed accusation. “We were most distressed to find you absent.”

I clench my jaw, biting back the sharp retort sizzling on my tongue. “I was out practicing merging with Knox, as you well know. Not that it’s any business of yours?—”

“But it is!” Serle raises his voice, drawing more attention. “You cannot simply galivant off whenever you please. Do you not see what happens in your absence? Chaos. Destruction.”

Breann hobbles closer, worry pinching her wrinkled brow. “Please, you must not leave the palace without your guards. What if something were to befall you?” She whirls on four of my royal guards, her voice sharpening. “How could you allow Her Majesty to be put at such risk?”

Every guard stiffens. Their wings expand, but they hold their tongues. Smart of them. I won’t stand for anyone questioning their loyalty, especially when they were following my orders.

Moise finally catches his breath and straightens, dusting off his robes. “The duchess speaks wisely, Your Highness. Until we know the meaning behind this attack, it’s best you remain within the palace. For your own safety.”

For my own safety, or to keep tabs on me?

My nostrils flare as I master my temper. Yelling will solve nothing.

Icy calm, that’s what I need. I tip up my chin and slide my gaze over each of them, pinning them in place with the unspoken weight of my station.

“I am the queen. I will do as I see fit to protect my kingdom and my people. And I will not be challenged. Nor will I have you questioning my guards when they were following my orders, as they should.” I flick a hand.

“Now make yourselves useful. We have wounded who need attending and damage to repair. Bron, take Breann someplace she can put that foot up before it swells even more.”

Moise opens his mouth as if to argue, but Bron cuts him off with a grim glance and shake of his head. The vicar subsides, lips pinched in disapproval. The young duke salutes me with his spear before turning and scooping Breann up in his arms.

I ignore the others, already striding away, my guards falling into formation around me. Let the council grumble. They’ll soon learn that I don’t bend to their whims.

Leaving them behind, I head toward Sterling. He seems to be attempting to pick his mother up, but she keeps swatting him away.

As if summoned, Rhiann appears, her skirts swirling around her ankles as she hastens across the courtyard. Four guards trail in her wake, bearing a litter between them.

“Your Majesty.” She drops into a curtsy without slowing as she heads for Sterling and Alannah.

I keep up with them, finally getting a good view of the exhausted woman’s face. The dowager queen’s dark eyes blaze, face ashen as she surveys the destruction.

Rhiann takes Alannah’s hand, leading her away from Sterling and settling her into a litter lined with soft fabrics and plush pillows.

With practiced efficiency, Rhiann adjusts the pillows to cushion the dowager queen at every pressure point, then covers her with a warm blanket. “Rest now, Your Majesty. All will be well.”

“I’m sorry I had to toss Lydia up for you to protect.”

Lydia. That must be the name of the young girl I saw hiding in Rhiann’s skirts.

“When I saw you on the balcony, it was the only thing I could think of doing. The poor thing was so scared, and the drachen were so close.” Alannah grips Rhiann’s hand, her papery skin nearly translucent in the harsh sunlight.

“Think nothing of it, Your Highness.” Rhiann shifts to walk beside the litter, waving the men to start for the palace. “I’m in your debt for ensuring the girl’s safety while you were already struggling. She has barely a scratch on her.”

“Lark.” Alannah flinches as her gaze seeks mine. “You must be strong, dear. For all our sakes.”

I force a smile. “I will. I promise.”

She nods, sinking back against the cushions as the guards bear her away, back to the haven of her chambers.

With a flutter of wings, Healer Luci descends from the sky, approaching from the gardens with several bags filled to the brim.

She alights in the courtyard, already barking orders in a voice accustomed to instant obedience. “You there! Fetch clean water and bandages. You, find me splints and slings. The rest of you, start triaging the wounded. Most critical cases first.”

The soldiers scramble to do her bidding, some racing off on their appointed errands while others begin gently sorting through the injured.

I catch a glimpse of blood, burned flesh, and shattered bone, before I wrench my gaze away in search of Sterling, who somehow managed to vanish within the last few seconds.

Shouts and groans of pain bounce off the rubble-strewn cobblestones as I navigate the chaos of the courtyard. When I spot broad shoulders and shiny black hair, I veer in that direction.

Sterling. Thank the gods.

He kneels beside a prone figure, wrapping a bandage around a jagged gash in a young guard’s leg.

Bastian crouches at his side, expression grim. A few paces away, Agnar and Leesa tend to another injured soldier.

Torn between who to help, I turn my gaze back to Sterling. From this vantage, I can tell the guard is unconscious, but his chest still rises with his labored breathing.

I drop to my knees on Sterling’s other side. “How badly were we hit?”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t glance up. “Bad. We’ve got a few casualties and multiple critical injuries. The healers are overwhelmed. They weren’t going for straight kills this time. They were wounding as well.”

“I’ll help.” I start to rise, but Sterling’s hand shoots out, clamping around my wrist.

“Lark, wait.” His dark, worried eyes find mine. “You need to be careful. Let people help you. Trying to do everything yourself isn’t sustainable.”

I glance from his earnest face to Bastian’s, conflicted. They mean well. But how can I stand back and delegate when my people are suffering, and I’m the one with the power to do something?

Bastian stays silent, but I can feel the weight of his stare. Assessing. Judging. For once, I’m grateful for his reticence.

Sterling’s fingers tighten on my wrist, dragging my focus back to him. “Please, Lark. I know you want to help. I know your instincts are screaming at you to act. But you have to consider the bigger picture.”

“The bigger picture?” I wrench my arm free and push to my feet in one smooth motion. “People are hurt. Dying. That’s the only picture I care about right now.”

“You’re not a healer. You need to let people do their jobs while we do ours.

” He holds my gaze. “As leaders, it’s up to us to ensure it doesn’t happen again.

However, we still have to take care of ourselves.

If it comes down to either the world burning or your safety, I will choose my queen every time. ”

My heart melts a little. “Don’t say things like that in public.”

“Why not?” Sterling’s eyes turn molten with desire, and my body instantly reacts. “Does it make you want to?—”

“Okay.” Bastian groans and shakes his head. “I think that’s my cue to leave. See where I can be of use.”

He rises, pats me on the shoulder, and strides away.

“Anyway,” I lean down to press a kiss to Sterling’s cheek, “I’ll take care of myself. I promise. I just need to do a few more things.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Despite Sterling’s stern tone, I know the threat is empty. I’m not going to relax until I’m certain I’ve done everything possible to help. And neither is he.

As I head for the wall that was breached, Eldor materializes at my side and matches my furious pace.

Ash streaks his weathered face, but his russet eyes are clear and keen as they lock onto mine. “Have a minute to talk?”

“Now? I’m a bit preoccupied.”

“I understand that, but this is important.” He presses a steaming mug into my hands. The earthy scent of Alannah’s tea wafts up to tease my nostrils. “You must rehydrate. Pushing yourself to the brink of collapse won’t do anyone any good.”

Frustration lashes through me, but I know he’s right. With a muttered curse, I pause long enough to gulp down a few scalding mouthfuls. “The dragons? Are they all right? None of them feel off, but they’re all so angry it’s hard to tell.”

“A bit unsettled but unharmed.” Eldor points over his shoulder to the paddock where the raging thoughts are still swirling. “I was there when they landed. And none of them appeared to have any wounds.”

Relief loosens some of the tension knotting my shoulders. At least there’s that small mercy.