AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You are not managing her, Endreth. She is starting to manage you,” Aegonar’s voice snapped, his tone dripping with reproach.
Anthea’s hand froze on the door handle. Aegonar was here, and he seemed angry. The heir had been away from the court. At least that’s what Endreth had told her when she’d asked about his absence from the testing sessions. It wasn’t like she wanted him there. No. She liked being alone with Endreth. Anthea just hadn’t wanted the Crimson heir to suddenly pop in again, when she was unprepared.
But it seemed he was back, here, at Endreth’s study.
And he was angry.
She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, the risk of getting caught was too high. But she wanted to know. What if they were talking about her?—
Anthea leaned slightly closer, trying to catch what was being said.
“I know what I am doing.”
“Do you?” The heir’s voice was sharp. “Because she’s not the broken-winged bird she pretends to be. She is not some injured creature you can save and shelter. She is an asset, brother. And assets are to be controlled, not coddled. If you cannot see that, perhaps you are getting too close, letting emotions cloud your judgment. We cannot afford mistakes. You know what is at stake!”
“Of course I know what is at stake, Aegonar. I am telling you, Anthea is coming along?—”
Anthea’s back was pressed against the cold stone wall of the hallway. Every part of her screamed to leave before she was discovered, but the need to understand kept her rooted in place. They were talking about her, about controlling and managing her. Had Alyra told him about their conversation?
“You cannot trust her motives—she has wrapped you around her little human finger. It is clear?—”
“We cannot push her! Anthea . . . she does not respond well to that. I know exactly who she is and what?—.”
“It cannot go on like this. We are running out of time. It’s been decided. It needs to happen soon.” Aegonar’s voice carried a heavy authority—it was the heir of the court who was speaking. There was a pause, and then. “You know what needs to be done. Do it, or I will do it myself!” the heir added, his voice quieter but no less commanding.
The silence that followed was punctuated only by the shuffle of feet.
Then, the door was yanked open, revealing a visibly irritated Aegonar. Anthea jerked back, eyes wide. His piercing eyes locked onto hers. “Anthea.” He acknowledged her, before casting a final, meaning-laden look at his brother. “Remember what I said, Endreth. You know what to do.” With those parting words, Aegonar strode past her.
She looked at Endreth, his blue gaze pinned her to the spot, a hurricane of emotions swirling in those ocean eyes. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment before exhaling a deep sigh. “Come inside, Anthea. Sit!”
Did they know? Had Alyra revealed what she had been telling her about Endreth? What they had talked about the night before? Did he know?
“What did Aegonar mean?” she asked, fidgeting with her hands, not moving an inch. “What needs to be done?”
Endreth’s face was etched with weariness and frustration as he closed the gap between them. He reached out, his fingers encircling her upper arm, his touch gentle. “Please, sit,” he implored. With the slightest pressure, he guided her toward one of the armchairs next to the window. Anthea sank into it, eyes glued to him. The prince remained standing, turning away from her to look out at the darkening sea. The fading sunlight seemed to catch every strand of his auburn hair, giving him an ethereal glow.
For a long moment, he said nothing. Anthea, too, held her tongue—waiting. She gripped the handles of her chair, anything to stop her fingers trembling. Did he know?
“Thea, there are things . . . things you are not aware of. Things I hoped you would never need to know. But it seems that might no longer be an option.” Endreth rubbed his temples, his eyes fixed on the sunset outside the glass panes.
She let out a breath—It was something else. He didn’t know.
“And Aegonar,” he continued, “he is protective. Protective of our family, our people, our court. He sometimes sees things in black and white.”
“Endreth, I need to understand. What is happening? Please, tell me.”
“Do you remember our discussion about the Obsidian court?” he asked, though it felt more like a statement. Without waiting for her confirmation, he continued, “All courts may be equal in name, but in reality, the Obsidian court holds the power.”
She leaned forward, her fingertips pressing into the soft fabric. “So, they rule over everyone, the other courts? Even the Crimson court?”
He turned to face her, his blue eyes landing on her hands gripping the armchair. “In essence, yes. They dictate the politics, alliances, and even some personal choices of those within the other courts—choices like marriages between the courts.”
“And the other courts just listen . . .” She trailed off. It was hard for her to imagine King Endoral just bowing his head and abiding by the Obsidian court’s demands. “How can they hold so much control? Is it their magic?”
Endreth’s lips thinned, a shadow passing over his face. “They are powerful mages, but that is not all—” He knelt before her chair. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Anthea.” She felt a weight in her stomach, her eyes widening as she met his gaze, trying to decipher if he was being honest with her now. He had lied. About what? He took her hands in his. “It is because of the dragons. They have two of them. When the curse was cast during the war,” he continued, “it wiped out most of the dragons, but not all of them. The Obsidian court—through means no one can fathom—managed to reverse the spell on two of the creatures.”
“Why did you lie?”
