Page 8 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Though we haven’t spent much time together, it feels like I’ve known him my entire life.

We may have gotten off to a rocky start when he drugged, kidnapped, and tied me up in his cottage, but I’ve since realized his intentions were pure.

Eldor didn’t know who he could trust in the palace, and he didn’t want to risk someone overhearing our conversation.

As usual, my grandfather is armed to the teeth with weapons and sporting casual clothing that looks a little out of place in the palace.

Those russet brown eyes study me, like he’s calculating my next move.

Wild, dark hair that’s graying around the temples falls to his chin, blending in with his short silvery beard.

The sleeves of his dark gray tunic are rolled up, revealing the warm beige skin of his muscular forearms.

He may be in his sixties, but he’s got the energy of a twenty-year-old warrior.

“Going somewhere?” He nods to my travel satchel on the floor.

“Just going to get some air.” I keep my response vague, hoping he’ll leave it at that. But Eldor’s no fool. He’s seen me in action too many times to buy the lie.

“Air doesn’t need a sword.” He points toward the weapon strapped to my hip, a hint of amusement in his gravelly voice.

Swinging my satchel over my shoulder, I head toward the outer door. “How many times have I been attacked by assassins and kidnappers on these grounds?”

“Fair point.” Eldor adjusts his stride to match my pace. “But I can see that you’re up to something. What are you planning?”

“Fixing my mistakes,” I snap, a little too quickly, a little too harshly.

But there’s no time for niceties with Sterling’s life hanging in the balance and Narc’s shadow looming over us all.

“I was upset when I first learned that the Bardas stole the throne from our ancestors. Though I lacked the experience to be queen, part of me felt compelled to right the wrong done to our family. But now that the crown’s in my grasp, all I want to do is to hand it back over to Knox. He should be here, ruling Tirene.”

“True, you carry the burden of a kingdom and the hope of your bloodline, but you’re also carrying a torch for a man who might already be?—”

“Alive.” I grind my teeth, not willing to accept any other possibility. “He’s alive, and I’m going to bring him home.”

“Hope can be as cruel as it is comforting.” In Eldor’s sigh, I can hear the voice of experience. “But if anyone can bend fate, it’s you.”

I know this has to hurt him. After all, he still has a painting of my late mother on his living room wall. “Then let me do what I need to. And don’t ask too many questions.”

“Alone?” The challenge dares me to admit I need help.

“Alone. I won’t risk more lives for my dreams. The same way you came for me alone, I might add. Stubbornness appears to be a family trait, and the fact that Knox and I were able to meet in a dream helps me keep the faith.” Without waiting for a response, I shuffle around him.

I weave through the corridors, my boots clicking an impatient rhythm against the marble floor. After several turns, I finally reach the outer halls that lead to the courtyard.

A voice, smooth like polished steel but just as cold, stops me. “Your Highness.”

My hand hovers over the latch of the heavy outer door.

Lord Serle Hamilton.

Of course. He has a knack for showing up uninvited. His fawning tone wraps around my thoughts like ivy.

“Lord Serle.” I force a smile on my face. “What brings you to this part of the palace?”

“Developments, Your Highness.” He comes closer. Though his words bleed with urgency, there’s a simpering note that undercuts their importance. “The council is convening. They request your presence.”

“Request or demand?” My wings itch to unfurl and propel me to the skies.

Dammit!

Why didn’t I just walk onto my own patio and fly away?

I never needed to walk to the courtyard.

I could’ve even called a dragon to meet me in the air.

After spending most of my life without wings, I still don’t remember to use them sometimes.

Like when I spent all that time walking up and down stairs when I could’ve just flown.

“Let’s not split hairs, Your Highness.” He pinches his lips tight, narrowing his pale blue eyes. “Decisions will be made. With or without you.”

I sigh, glancing over my shoulder at him. Serle stands almost at attention, black wings folded neatly behind him. The very picture of subservience.

Yet I know better than to take his demeanor at face value. “And what sort of decisions are we making this evening? The color of the napkins at my coronation feast?”

“Far more pressing matters, I assure you.” His gleaming eyes suggest he’s not entirely unhappy with my reticence. If I don’t show, it gives him room to maneuver, to play his own game.

“Fine.” That’s not something I’m willing to risk. The gods only know what Serle and the others would do in my absence. “Lead the way.”

As I follow Lord Serle back through the maze of hallways, I can’t shake the sense of being caged.

The weight of the crown presses against my skull, reminding me of all that I’m fighting for and all that I could lose.

And I’m not even wearing the damn thing yet.

Sterling, Bastian, Leesa, Agnar, Rose, Rhiann…

their names ricochet in my mind like a mantra, a litany of reasons why every step away from the courtyard is a step in the wrong direction.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Serle’s voice drips with insincere gratitude as we approach the Council Tower.

I’ll go to this meeting. I’ll sit and listen to their fears and their ideas. And then I’ll make my move. Because waiting has never been my style. Not when there’s a war brewing on the horizon, and not when the person I love most is counting on me to bring him home.