Page 37 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Twenty-six

Cayden

“I still have no idea why you’re wearing that,” Ryder grumbles.

“Because it’s pretty.”

“We’re going on a stealth mission. You don’t have to dress pretty. ”

The sweet smile is evident in Elowen’s voice. “No need to tell me. Your choice in attire makes your beliefs apparent.”

“Cayden,” Ryder growls. “Can you please step in here?”

I rest my head on the back of a tree, looking to the sky for a bit of strength. “I’ve been ignoring this entire conversation and will continue to do so.”

“Your betrothed is wearing light blue!” Ryder exclaims.

“Would you calm down? There’s black embroidery and beading.”

“And she looks beautiful,” I reply without looking at either of them, scanning the back of the Baelyn estate we’ll be infiltrating once Alexus gives the signal.

From the corner of my eye, I see Ryder look to Finnian for support, but he wisely raises his hands and shakes his head, also wanting no part in their argument. Smart move, Finnian.

“Anything yet?” Elowen asks as she moves to my side, and I hook an arm around her waist to pull her back against my chest. It’s like a reflex at this point.

Elowen could wear the brightest shade possible and still keep to the shadows better than someone dressed in all black.

Her skills would be unnerving if we weren’t allies.

She can move without sound and stand directly behind someone without them being any the wiser.

She changed before we left so it would be easier to move while on the mission, but Elowen is always dressed in something feminine and elegant.

I doubt I’ll ever see her in anything that doesn’t complement her.

The light blue tunic trimmed in black fur to match her cloak hugs her frame perfectly.

A panel of fabric stretches just below her knees, and another in the back, leaving her knife-clad legs on full display and the waist belt adding more definition.

“No.” I don’t remove my gaze from the servants’ entrance. “Alexus is probably waiting until they’re deep in their cups before slipping from the room.”

“I think we should split up once we’re inside.”

Not happening is the first thing that flashes in my mind, and even though she can probably sense where my thoughts have gone when my arms tighten around her, she doesn’t say anything. “Why?”

“Because if the nobles are gathered and drunk then they might voice some thoughts about us. Maybe they’ll reveal something useful.

You don’t need me to infiltrate the office, and you’ll know what to look for better than me.

” She cranes her neck, but I don’t look down.

“We’ve been in worse places than a lord’s house, and you know I can handle myself. ”

She can do more than handle herself. It’s me that’s the fucking problem.

Not having her by my side is unnerving and divides my attention, which is something that’s never been an issue before.

My missions have always been the most important things in my life, and clearly that’s changed.

Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and she’s told me she prefers spying and taking down a target from a distance.

The thought of not being there if she gets overpowered makes me wake up in a cold sweat some nights.

“Keep Ryder and Finnian with you.” The words taste like acid. “It’ll be easier for me to navigate the halls without them.”

All those working in the household will be focused on keeping the lords happy and won’t be bustling around the halls as much as they normally would, but it’s still best to limit our exposure.

The back door opens, and I monitor the sight like a hawk, releasing Elowen once I see the white cloth waving from the small crack. “I’ll find you inside once I’ve completed my search.”

Her lips quirk up. “Don’t you always?”

“Damn right.”

After making sure nobody is watching from any of the windows, the four of us creep from the tree line and slip into the dining area reserved for the servants.

Alexus presses a finger to his lips, jutting his chin toward the archway leading to the kitchen.

The pots and pans clanging along with orders given in raised voices is a dead giveaway.

We keep quiet, following him up a staircase at the end of the hall, and pause on the landing.

“The office is on the top floor, but I’ve cracked open three windows in the dining room. If you want to spy, you’ll have the best luck hiding in the room directly above it,” Alexus mumbles.

Elowen looks back at Finnian who steps closer to her. “Go with them,” I say.

Ryder nods, not looking pleased but knowing I’ve taken on far more dangerous tasks than looking through a lord’s correspondence.

Alexus pops his head into the hall before holding the door open for them. “It’s the first door on your left.”

I keep my eyes on Elowen’s back, gritting my teeth as the door shuts behind her, and turn to walk up the second staircase that leads to a much shorter hallway displaying a dark crimson-and-black theme as in the rest of the house.

It might’ve been a decent place if it wasn’t so gaudy.

Alexus quickly unlocks the office and lets me inside.

“This is where I leave you.” He tosses me the key. “They’ll notice my absence when they need more wine, and I’d rather not have the mission fall apart while we’re all inside.”

“Collect your things tonight if you have anything here,” I say while scanning the room. “If we don’t find anything now, I’ll handle them in a different way.”

“Are you not worried about an internal rebellion anymore?”

“I always have another plan.” It’s better to control them and keep them in my back pocket, but either they’ll bend, or I’ll break them.

I walk toward the large oak desk set in front of a wide fireplace.

Xantheus must’ve just been in here because the heat is stifling.

I don’t waste time removing my coat, but I do pull the hood down.

The plush rug absorbs my steps, but I still step lightly enough to ensure anyone in the room below won’t hear.

The lockpicks are cool in my grip as I pull the smallest one from my pocket and drop to my knees, making quick work of getting the first drawer open.

I filter through the parchment, making sure to keep everything in order when I return the useless stack and relock the drawer before moving on to the next.

It reeks of bergamot in here, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Xantheus burns the incense because he thinks it smells like wealth.

There’s some kind of vase or gold piece wherever I look.

It seems every inch of the house is crammed with trinkets.

The next drawer slides open, and I repeat my earlier actions, flicking through page after page until I pause.

Dropping the stack of financial records on the desk, I scan a letter from a lord of Thirwen letting Xantheus know that there aren’t enough ships left in their kingdom to continue trading throughout the war.

Thirwen lacking ships makes no sense. They’re an island kingdom, same as Galakin—their navy is far superior to their armies.

Fuck.

I knew Thirwen would be offering reinforcements to Imirath by sea, but I didn’t anticipate the magnitude.

It’s a risky move considering it leaves their own kingdom unprotected…

but there must be a reason. Something more than just a marriage between future heirs securing their alliance.

I find a piece of blank parchment and place it atop the letter to trace the words and signature.

I fold the letter and commit the sigil on the seal to memory—a ship’s helm.

Ryder will be able to re-create the simple design in hot wax before it dries. We’ve been forging documents for years.

Before slipping into the hall, I make sure nothing is out of place.

The last thing I want is Xantheus running from the kingdom before I have the chance to bring him to heel like the bitch he is for what he said about Elowen alone.

I’d rather not waste my time tracking him down.

I love a chase, but only when the reward is worth it.

“Did you find something?” That voice. That sweet fucking voice. That’ll always be worth it.

The sitting room is just as obnoxious as I anticipated.

Moonlight bounces off the gold-plated furniture as well as every vase and relic propped on various podiums. Jewels in varying shades speckle the walls like the skirts of a hideous gown, and my nostrils burn from all the damn incense.

The three of them could’ve heard whatever the lords were saying downstairs if they stayed on the couches, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to sit under the windows for some fresh air.

“I did.” I crouch in front of Elowen who has her back pressed against the wall, and a half-eaten pastry held up to her mouth. “What did you hear?”

“A load of bullshit,” Finnian growls, biting into the soft bread in his hand.

“Foolish men running their mouths,” Elowen adds.

“I’d have stopped listening if I weren’t on a mission.

” I raise a brow, jutting my chin toward the food.

“Spying takes awhile sometimes, so Chef Leonardo made some pastries.” Leonardo, the chef at Veles Manor, was all too excited when I informed him the lady of the house has a love for sweets and baking.

I lean forward before she has the chance to react and take a bite. “Hey!”

“Thanks, angel.” She narrows her eyes. Elowen would hand over her meal if she knew I hadn’t eaten, but this woman does not share her sweets.

She could be stuffed after four courses and still manage to make room for dessert.

“Are you going to tell me what they said? Because I’ll happily go down there and ask myself. ”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she mutters. “If I spent my life crying over what men said about me, I’d never leave my room.”

“Yes, you would because I’d kill them.”

“They’re a bunch of rich pricks who haven’t gotten the shit kicked out of them enough,” Ryder grumbles.

Elowen pats my chest and shoves herself to her feet, finishing off the pastry and walking to the door to peek into the hall. “I’m not telling you here because we didn’t spend all this effort spying just for you to reveal our presence by losing your head and going down there with blades drawn.”

My anger pulses under my skin. They can lose their heads for all I care. “It was that bad?”

“Their hatred can be weaponized if we wait for the right moment to wield it.” She turns away from the door, crooking her finger at the three of us ready to storm down there.

“Men say spiteful things about women and yet the world keeps turning. Don’t mistake my calm for complacency.

I’ll silence them, but you’re all going to follow my lead and let me do what I do best.” She swings the door open and steps into the hall once we’re close.

“Outsmarting those who consistently underestimate me.”