The moment the tent flap fell closed, a blur of white feathers almost barreled into her.
Roa!Essie flew in tight circles around her, her worry bleeding into Roa.Come quickly.
Roa ran after her, trying to keep up, as Essie led her to the edge of camp. There she found Lirabel retching up dinner from the night before.
“Lirabel—”
“I’m fine,” said her friend, crouching low to the ground, her arms trembling a little.
“You don’t look fine,” whispered Roa. She ran for a water skin, then sank down next to her friend, uncorking the skin and holding it out.
Lirabel ignored her. Wiping her mouth on her wrist, she rose—a little shakily—to her feet. “I said I’m fine.”
But even her voice trembled.
What’s wrong?Roa asked Essie, who ruffled her feathers from her perch on her sister’s shoulder.
She’s been sick every day since we came to the scrublands. I thought you knew.
Together they watched Lirabel walk back into camp.
Why hadn’t Roa noticed?
Dax had noticed. This was obvious as they rode through the morning. He kept casting concerned glances Lirabel’s way, riding close beside her as they made their way to his mother’s abode.
Roa watched them carefully, Theo’s accusation ringing through her head.
What if her new status comes at a cost?
Roa wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe it. Dax would never use Lirabel like that. And Lirabel would never allow herself to be used.
Roa refused to indulge such an odious thought.
By early evening, their destination shimmered in the distant heat. Here the pale sand turned to packed, dry earth. To the east and west, wild yellow grasses gleamed in the setting sun. Andin the midst of it all, the white walls of Amina’s desert home shone like glass.
They would sleep within those walls tonight, then arrive in Firgaard by dusk tomorrow.
The house was just north of the main travel route between Firgaard and the scrublands, and off-limits to anyone but Amina, the former dragon queen. It had been built for her by her husband as a wedding gift.
Dax had inherited it upon her death; and after the coronation, he’d come here several times. It was just a day’s ride from Firgaard and an easy retreat from palace life. The last two times Lirabel had accompanied him, on her way to the scrublands as emissary. Roa had never set foot here before. The only reason they were staying tonight was because Dax needed to retrieve something he’d left behind on his last visit.
A horse pulled up beside Lirabel. Both of them looked to see the king himself, staring straight ahead.
“Race you,” he said.
Lirabel looked queasy at the thought and shook her head. “Not me.”
So Dax leaned forward, looking around her. “Roa?”
At first she thought it was a joke. But then he smiled a strange smile. It reminded her of rainy afternoons, playing gods and monsters with him. She knew that smile. It was the one that slipped out when he thought he was about to win.
“What’s the prize?” she asked, despite herself.
Dax grinned. As if her question meant he was already victorious.
“The loser has to give the winner a kiss.”
Roa made a disgusted face.
