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Still, Tieran waited for her when she came out of the glory of Belcourt Palace. Netta was beside him. She and Fordham saddled their dragons in companionable silence.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Kerrigan winced at the sound of March’s voice. She schooled her features and whirled around with a wide smile on her face. He held a small present in his hand.
“Why, March, the holiday isn’t for another week.”
He strode forward, narrowing his eyes at Fordham. “I thought you were going alone.”
“Fordham is training me.”
“Won’t he also need an invitation from your father?”
Kerrigan swallowed and spoke the truest words. The ones that hurt the worst. “We’re not courting,” she said with a breezy laugh, as if unaffected. “It’s like bringing a riding coach with me.”
Fordham’s shadows closed in tight around her at the words. The easy delivery. She could practically feel him wanting to snatch her away from March. But it also wasn’t wrong. No amount of time in the greenhouse could change that.
“I see,” he said, rather skeptically. “Well, happy holiday.”
She took the proffered box and opened it. A small gasp escaped her throat before she could stop it. A yellow diamond sat amid a halo of diamonds on a gold band.
“March,” she whispered in what she hoped was awe rather than horror. “What… what did you do?”
He plucked the ring out of the box, stripped her riding glove off of her left hand, and slowly slid the giant diamond onto her ring finger. “There. You always deserved a ring, and now, we are properly engaged.”
She gaped at the giant thing on her hand. It was gorgeous and gaudy and way over the top. She loved it and wanted it off of her hand this very second.
Instead, she put a hand to her chest. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
He squeezed her hand, drawing her a step closer. “Come home to me soon, my love.”
She nodded mutely.
March flashed a smug look to Fordham. “Take care of my fiancée, will you?”
“Oh, I will,” Fordham snarled.
Her stomach dropped out as March just laughed and walked away.
“Don’t say a word,” she snapped at Fordham. She dragged the ring off of her finger and threw it into her saddlebag. She couldn’t get the blasted thing off of her fast enough. She shoved her hand back into the glove and jumped on Tieran’s back.
Can I say something? Tieran asked with mirth in his voice.
“Not a word,” Kerrigan snapped.
And then they were in the skies, and Kerrigan lay against Tieran’s back. What the hell was she going to do? Kivrin had better have a damn solution to this problem. She was going all the way to Waisley to get it.
The flight to the Bryonican countryside took hardly any time at all. The seat of the House of Cruse was on thousands of acres of Corsica Forest. They bypassed the town of Lillington with its beautiful thatched-roof houses. Then, Waisley rose high on the next hill.
Kerrigan’s breath hitched at the sight of it. She hadn’t thought about the house that she’d loved so dearly as a child. The various gray stones that created the exterior. The gardens were bare in the chill. Frost covered everything in a soft winter wonderland, making it almost glow ethereally.
When she’d been young with only a strapping father for company, she’d wanted to bring her mother to Waisley. She envisioned showing her the grounds and making her fall in love with the estate the way that Kerrigan was. But she’d never had a mother. Not really. Her name was Keres. She was a human woman, and she’d died in childbirth, giving Kerrigan nothing but her name. Human women rarely survived birthing a half-Fae child. The magic depleted and killed them. Which was still horrifying, considering most half-Fae were born of human mothers. So many unnecessary deaths.
So, she’d never met her mother or taken her around the grounds. But still, when she looked at Waisley, she saw her there. All the hopes for a future that never came to be.
Kerrigan signaled for Fordham to begin his descent, and they landed in an open field near the western gardens.
This place smells of dragons, Tieran told her.
“I descend from a long line of Society members. My grandmother, Enara, and great-grandfather, Coen, were both dragon riders,” she informed him.
But not Kivrin. He’d lost the tournament to Lorian, and the feud had existed ever since. A feud she was currently embroiled in.
One of the greats was here, Tieran explained. This will be fertile training grounds.
A lump formed in her throat, and she could just nod. As much as she hated what had been done to her, she’d never thought she’d see Waisley again. She still loved it so.
She slid off of Tieran’s back and retrieved her belongings, patting his back. “We’ll call when we start training.”
