Page 12 of Realms of Swords and Storms (Empire of Vengeance #3)

The morning air was crisp, carrying the first hint of autumn's approach.

Other students were already gathering, stretching muscles, adjusting equipment.

I spotted Jalend across the field, his back to me as he checked the straps of his riding gear.

The sight of him sent an unexpected flutter through my stomach that I quickly suppressed.

"You're distracted this morning."

I started at Septimus's voice behind me. He stood just a few paces away, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.

"Just thinking about the training exercise," I lied smoothly.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You've been distracted a lot lately. Disappearing at night, returning just before dawn."

My heart skipped a beat. "Have you been watching me?"

"It's my job to watch you," he reminded me, voice low enough that no one else could hear. "To keep you safe. Hard to do that when you're sneaking off alone. Are you going to see Marcus?"

"Yes, sometimes. Sometimes I just like to take Sirrax flying without the eyes of the legate on us all the time. But you don't need to worry, I can take care of myself."

I brushed aside the twinge of guilt. I didn't know how to even start to explain what was going on with Sirrax, and he'd asked me to keep it quiet for now.

I knew he didn't trust my men like I did.

I comforted myself that I was lying to protect Sirrax and that they'd forgive me when I finally explained.

Right now, though, Septimus shook his head in frustration.

"I know you can take care of yourself, but that's not the point."

Before I could respond, Tarshi approached, his expression carefully neutral. "Instructor Varius is looking for you, Livia. Something about your dragon's feeding schedule."

I nodded, grateful for the interruption. "Thank you, Tarshi."

As I turned to go, I caught them exchanging a glance—something complex passing between them, tension that wasn't entirely the hostility I'd come to expect. Septimus's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. Tarshi's eyes narrowed, something almost challenging in his gaze.

Then the moment passed, so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it. Septimus looked away first, busying himself with adjusting my riding gear, which he'd brought from my quarters.

"Your saddle needs new straps," he muttered, fingers testing the leather.

"I'll see to it this afternoon," Tarshi replied, though Septimus hadn't been addressing him.

Their eyes met again, and I could have sworn a slight flush crept up Septimus's neck. What was that about?

"I should go find Instructor Varius," I said, breaking the strange tension. "I'll see you both at the training field."

As I walked away, I glanced back to see them still standing together, closer than necessary, their heads bent slightly toward each other as though continuing a conversation too private for others to hear.

Curious, but I had more pressing concerns at the moment.

The morning's exercise involved advanced aerial manoeuvres—complex patterns that required perfect coordination between rider and dragon.

The kind of trust and communication that came naturally to me and Sirrax now that I understood our bond, but that the other riders struggled to achieve.

I found Sirrax already in the dragon paddock, his massive black form distinct among the other beasts. The iron collar was back in place around his neck, the broken catch carefully hidden, the gap invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.

As I approached, his head lifted, golden eyes finding mine instantly. Through our bond, I felt his greeting—warmth and recognition flowing from his mind to mine.

Mate comes .

Good morning , I replied silently, still marvelling at our ability to communicate this way. Ready for today's exercise?

A sense of eagerness flowed from him, along with something darker—resentment at having to perform for the Empire that had enslaved him. I stroked his muzzle, wishing I could free him from this charade.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

I turned to find Jalend striding toward me, a warm smile lighting his handsome face. His usually perfect attire was slightly dishevelled—riding leathers a bit askew, a smudge of dirt on one cheek. It made him look more human somehow, and considerably more attractive.

"Jalend," I greeted him with an answering smile. "You look like you've been wrestling with your dragon rather than riding him."

He laughed, running a hand through his slightly tousled hair. "Valerian decided this morning was the perfect time to test my reflexes. Nearly threw me during our warm-up flight."

"And did you pass his test?"

"Barely." His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled—a detail I'd found myself noticing more often lately. "Though I suspect my dignity suffered irreparable damage. Your Sirrax, on the other hand, seems the model of cooperation."

He stepped closer to Sirrax, admiring the dragon's gleaming scales. "Magnificent creature," he murmured, genuine appreciation in his voice. Through our bond, I felt Sirrax's assessment of Jalend—cautious acceptance tinged with the barest hint of jealousy.

"He has his moments of stubbornness," I said, exchanging a knowing look with Sirrax that made his golden eyes glint with humour. "But we've reached an understanding."

"An understanding," Jalend repeated, his tone teasing as he turned back to me. "Is that what you call it? The way you two fly together, it's more like you share a single mind."

My pulse quickened at how close he'd come to the truth. "Just good training."

"Please." He rolled his eyes, that aristocratic arrogance making a brief appearance. "I've been riding dragons since I could walk, and I've never seen a bond develop so quickly or so deeply. You're either a natural prodigy or you're hiding some secret technique from the rest of us mere mortals."

I laughed, relieved that he seemed to attribute our connection to skill rather than anything supernatural. "Trust me, if I had secret techniques, I'd sell them for a fortune and retire to a quiet life away from dawn training sessions."

"Liar," he said, but his smile softened the accusation. "You love this as much as I do. The freedom of flight, the connection with these magnificent beings." His voice dropped lower, his expression turning suddenly serious. "The way it feels to be truly understood by another living creature."

Something in his tone, in the intensity of his gaze, made my cheeks warm. "Yes," I admitted quietly. "I do love that."

For a moment, we just looked at each other, something unspoken passing between us. Then Jalend seemed to catch himself, his usual mask of casual confidence sliding back into place.

"Well, today's exercise should be entertaining, at least," he said, nodding toward where Instructor Varius was setting up a complex obstacle course. "Aerial evasion patterns. I suspect most of our classmates will end up flat on their backs in the mud."

"Speaking from experience?" I teased. "That dirt on your face suggests you've already had a close encounter with the ground this morning."

He rubbed at his cheek, looking surprisingly boyish for a moment. "Is it still there? Damn. So much for my carefully cultivated image of perfection."

I reached up without thinking, brushing away the smudge with my thumb. "There. Perfection restored."

His hand caught mine before I could withdraw it, holding it against his cheek for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "Thank you," he said softly, and I wasn't sure if he was thanking me for removing the dirt or for something else entirely.

I pulled my hand back, suddenly aware of how intimate the gesture had been. "We should probably join the others before Varius decides to make an example of us."

"Indeed." He offered me his arm in an exaggerated courtly gesture. "Shall we face the aerial gauntlet together, Lady Livia?"

I laughed, taking his arm. "Lead on, Lord Jalend, though I suspect your dragon may still have plans to reacquaint you with the ground."

"Your confidence in me is overwhelming," he said dryly as we walked toward the training field. "Perhaps I'll surprise you today."

"You often do," I replied honestly, and was rewarded with a genuine smile that transformed his features from merely handsome to something that made my heart skip a beat.

As we joined the other students, I felt Sirrax's thoughts brush against mine, a mixture of amusement and warning. Be careful, mate. He sees too much.

I know , I replied silently. But I think he might be an ally. Someone we can trust.

A noncommittal rumble was his only response, but I could feel his watchfulness as Jalend and I took our positions for the morning's exercise.

Whatever was developing between Jalend and me—friendship, alliance, or something more complicated—I couldn't deny the pull I felt toward him.

His intelligence, his quiet rebellion against Imperial doctrines, his surprising kindness beneath that arrogant exterior—all of it drew me to him in a way I hadn't expected.

The morning's training proceeded with the usual mix of exhilaration and exhaustion.

Sirrax and I performed flawlessly, as did Jalend and his bronze dragon, though not without a few close calls that had me holding my breath.

By midday, most of the class was exhausted, their dragons panting from exertion.

Instructor Varius dismissed us with a curt nod that, for him, was high praise.

As the others dispersed toward the dining hall, Jalend approached me again, a slight limp in his gait that he was trying to conceal.

"I told you so," I said with a grin, nodding toward his favoured leg. "Your dragon got his revenge after all."

"A minor disagreement about the proper angle for the final dive," he said with dignity. "Nothing serious."

"Of course." I tried to keep a straight face. "Just a small miscommunication that ended with you plummeting fifty feet."

"Forty at most," he corrected primly. "And I recovered with exceptional grace, I'll have you know."

"Is that what we're calling that awkward tumble across the field? Exceptional grace?"

He narrowed his eyes, though amusement played at the corners of his mouth. "You're enjoying this far too much, Livia."

"I am," I admitted cheerfully. "It's not often I get to see the great Jalend Northreach brought low. Your landing was quite spectacular—I especially liked the part where you rolled through that puddle."

"You're a terrible person," he said, but he was laughing now. "And here I was, about to invite you to join me for lunch."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'd accept?"

"Because I've discovered a hidden courtyard where they serve food that actually has flavour, unlike the bland porridge they feed the rest of the academy.

" He leaned closer, as if sharing a great secret.

"And I may have procured a bottle of wine that would make even the Emperor's sommelier weep with envy. "

I pretended to consider, though my stomach was already growling at the thought of food more exciting than the academy's standard fare. "Wine during training hours? How scandalously un-Northreach of you."

"I contain multitudes," he said with a mock bow. "So? Will you join me, or must I drown my wounded pride alone?"

"Well, when you put it that way," I sighed dramatically. "I suppose someone should make sure you don't drown in that wine bottle."

His smile was bright enough to rival the midday sun. "Excellent. Meet me by the western courtyard in half an hour. I'll make sure Sirrax gets proper care in the meantime."

As I watched him limp away, I felt a curious lightness in my chest. For all the complications in my life—Sirrax's true nature, my mission, the tangled relationships with Marcus, Tarshi, and Septimus—somehow Jalend had become a bright spot. A friend, perhaps. Or something more.

Likes mate , Sirrax's thought voice rumbled in my head, startling me. Not just friend.

I glanced at him, surprised. You can sense his emotions?

A mental equivalent of a shrug flowed through our bond. Some. Not clear like mate. But genuine. Wants more than friendship.

I felt my cheeks warm at the implication. That's... complicated.

An impression of Sirrax's amusement flowed through our bond. Life always complicated. For mate especially.

I couldn't argue with that.