I start to shake my head, irritation and doubt simmering, building into a firestorm in my chest.
“Look at me,” she says, and I do, because there's a desperate edge to her voice that makes her hard to ignore. She exhales a shaky breath. “You can do this.”
We stand in the dim silence for a long moment, two women from completely different worlds, unwillingly thrust into one another’s paths.
I don’t trust her. I’m not sure I ever will. But an understanding feels like it's starting to break its way through the iciness between us, even if it still feels rough, sharp-edged, and potentially dangerous.
“…Thank you,” I mutter, mostly because I don't know what else to say.
Her eye twitches a bit, like this relatively cordial conversation is painful for her. But she manages to force out something that sounds likeyou're welcomebefore turning and heading back into her little brother's room.
I stare at the door she softly shuts behind her, trying to make sense of what just happened.
I know it's less about wanting me to succeed, and more about not wanting me to make her brother look foolish. And maybe because she knows Arlo has grown attached to me, too, and she doesn't want me to fail for his sake.
But whatever the reason, it's nice to know she isn't actively conspiring against me.
After this encounter, I feel too restless to retire to my room. Instead, I go for a walk, making my way outside for some fresh air, and I end up in one of the palace gardens that sits high on a hilltop. This spot has become a favorite haunt of mine; there’s a small pavilion in the center of the garden, its white stone columns wrapped in dormant wisteria. After climbing up to sit on the bench between these columns, I can see a large portion of Lucindris sprawling out in the distance, stretching farther than my eye can see.
Some sort of festival is starting this week—I’ve heard the servants gossiping excitedly about it in the halls—and so the city is in the middle of a transformation. Large, colorful ribbons flutter from every lamppost and archway. There are stages being erected, lanterns being hung, and musicians already practicing their instruments on street corners.
But none of these things hold my gaze.
Instead, it’s the sky on the eastern edge of the city that catches my attention…
Because it’s filled withdragons.
Far more than I’ve seen, all in one place, since arriving in Lucindris. An entire swarm of them—no less than ten beasts are circling, diving and rising in patterns that seem almost coordinated, almost deliberate.
Mesmerized, I leave my hilltop sanctuary and start toward the palace gates, trying to get a better look, trying to properly count them.
I’m so focused on the distant dragons that I don’t notice one flying much closer—not until its shadow overtakes me.
Its flight is impossibly, unnaturally silent, its bat-like wings hardly rustling as it lands precisely on the edge of thepalace’s outermost defensive wall, sending guards scrambling.
It's enormous. Five times the size of Blight, at least. Its body is as black as the night descending around it, its swishing tail a whip with a blade-like tip that looks sharp enough to cut me cleanly in two. Its eyes are fiery, twin coals glowing in the twilight…
And it’s looking directly at me.
My heart jumps into my throat. The dragon shifts its weight and adjusts its wings, its claws gripping the stone as it bunches its powerful haunches.
It launches itself at me.
At the last moment, it veers away, ascending toward the sky with a roar that shakes the air.
It all happens so quickly I don’t even think to scream.
Heart pounding, I turn and start to run back toward the palace?—
Only to collide with someone hard enough that I go flying backward. A strong arm hooking around my waist, followed by a hand steadying my right hip, is the only thing that keeps me from hitting the ground.
Straightening, I find myself face to face with the king.
His hands shift uncertainly against me, but he doesn't immediately let me go. “…Ashwalker.”
I take a step back, pulling free of his grip. “Your Majesty.”
The night seems to close in around us, suddenly intimate despite the open space. The dragon is vanishing quickly against the darkening sky. Reave looks up, his gaze following it until the shimmer of its scales is no longer distinguishable from the shimmer of the stars.
