‘You’d risk her life like this?’ The words slipped out, sharper than intended.
‘What exactly do you think the training entails, Ava? You think I’d let my daughter near danger?’ She scoffed. ‘Get a grip.’
She turned away, and I caught her arm. ‘Wait. I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have known better. Will you tell me what dragon training means for children?’
Her expression softened. ‘You’re not from here; I get it. They don’t actually learn to conjure dragons. It’s just theory, basic fire control. They call it “dragon training” because it sounds grander than sitting in a classroom.’
When I left them, Emily and her daughter were still laughing among the broken tiles.
I walked the dim corridors back to my room, wondering if I’d ever see the day when our courts could live without fear of each other.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Avari
By the second day of the king’s absence, nausea had already made breakfast unbearable. I underestimated just how much I offended him.
Everything passed in a blur as I waited for his return. Time slipped by until I realised three weeks had passed since I arrived in Fogoya.
I chose to call it what it was, deeming the termimprisonmentno longer fitting.
Having spent most days with the king, I'd grown far too used to his presence. So much so that his sudden absence felt unsettling.
Perhaps if I knew his plans or whereabouts, I could focus on anything else. Yet as I wandered the corridors, that familiar pull toward the lower level of the castle returned.
With nothing better to do than indulge my witchly curiosity, I decided exploring was better than lying in bed and feeling sorry for myself while waiting for him.
When he came back, I needed to make him see my perspective and understand how much I truly appreciated his court.
On the way down I passed family portraits on my floor, scenic paintings on the third, bare tapestries on the second, and ornate decor on the first before finally reaching the basement. Still, the pull urged me onwards.
Soon I passed the vast collection of cars, surely enough for the royals to choose a different one every day for weeks, before finding a door hidden behind a thick pillar.
The staircase beyond looked nothing like the polished ones I was used to. Built from rough slabs with grim grey walls, it was austere but well lit. I descended another two floors before stopping at a door sealed with a passcode.
Forcing my green power around the mechanism, I struck. It clicked open. In moments like this, being half-witch proved useful; a fae would have had to break it or burn it down, which would have been difficult since it was metal.
I crossed the bare corridor until I reached a heavy door barred like a cell. Thick metal rails left just enough space for me to slip a hand through. A food-tray slot sat beneath them.
‘Who are you?’ A tall, handsome man peered out from a surprisingly luxurious room beyond the cell.
He looked clean and well-kept. There was little he could want: a sofa, a television, and a wall of books.
‘Who are you?’ I asked, assessing him. There had to be a good reason he was locked up.
‘I asked you first,’ he said, grinning as he leaned on the metal bars.
‘But I’m the one who found you, so it’s my question to ask.’
His nostrils flared, his pointing finger tapping against the wall as though he couldn't wait for my answer. ‘You smell of my brother. Where is he?’
The resemblance struck me instantly. He looked like River and Michael: tall and lean, with well-defined muscles and features carved hard around the edges. His gaze alone could stop a person in their tracks. I couldn't sense his power, but I was certain he possessed plenty.
‘That depends on which one you mean,’ I teased.
‘You only carry one’s scent.’ His smirk was pure offence. ‘I take it you and our king are close acquaintances?’
My cheeks burned. ‘What are you implying?’
