Page 7 of Destiny of a King

Dravic straightened, his eyes locked on Adira.

Then he threw it. The snowball sailed through the air right past Adira’s shoulder, striking the trunk of a pine several feet to her left, where it burst apart in a shower of white.

Adira stared, then she looked at the shattered snow on the tree, then back at the king.

She was not sure what to do. She had enjoyed snowball fights when she was young, had not had one since then. She simply could not let the joyfulness of those memories slip away.

A smile spread across her face, one that sparkled with mischief. She crouched, gathered another handful of snow and quickly fashioned a snowball.

Before Dravic could make another, she let hers fly.

It struck him squarely on the shoulder.

Fiora clapped her tiny hands. “A snowball fight. You get him, Adira!”

Dravic looked from the snow on his cloak to Adira. No one had dared strike their king. Yet here she stood waiting, another snowball already taking shape in her hands. A reluctant smile teased the corners of her mouth.

Fiora darted excitedly between them and cheered. “Again. Get him again, Adira!”

Before either of them could move, a familiar voice called from beyond the trees.

“My king.”

Tavish approached at a brisk pace, his expression stern until he stepped into the small clearing and came to an abrupt halt. His gaze settled first on the snow clinging to Dravic’s cloak, then on Adira, another snowball cupped in her hands. Finally, he looked at Fiora, who hovered nearby looking altogether too pleased with herself.

For perhaps the first time in years, Tavish found himself at a loss for words.

Dravic’s patience wore thin fast. “You interrupt.”

“Out of necessity, my king.”

That got his full attention. “What is it?”

“A messenger has arrived from Driochmor.”

Dravic’s expression hardened. “And?”

“The messenger refuses to speak to anyone but you… and Wynn.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Even Fiora’s smile faded.

Dravic looked once to Adira before turning to Tavish. “We return to the castle.”

Adira did not know what was being said, but the expressions on their faces and the sudden stiffness in their movements told her the time in the forest had come to an end. Without thinking, she let the snowball fall from her hand.

Dravic crossed to Adira and took her hand.

He took one step, then stopped and shouted, “Gloves.”

One of his guardsmen hurried to retrieve them from the snow and hand them to him.

Dravic handed them to Adira, and she did not hesitate to slip them on. As soon as she did, he took hold of her hand and set a brisk pace.

Though after only a few paces, he shouted. “Someone capture that blasted fairy.”

Chapter Three

Caerith Castle