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“Tell me everything that happened,” Kingston insisted, walking back into my room after Willow had helped me wash and lay in bed. His eyes said he would not leave until he got the entire story.
“Excuse me, but the last time I checked, you don’t command the princess. The princess commands you,” Willow reminded, glaring at him while she applied a generous amount of the healing cream used in situations such as this.
With a loud huff, my guardian crossed both arms over his chest, stopping by my bed. “I need to know what transpired to assess the threat, and mobilize my warriors if needed. I have to learn where and how it happened. What ensued exactly? Was it close to our shelter? Has he discovered where we are? Is he planning a new attack? Raithian is getting bolder and I cannot waste time. I must stop him before he even has a chance to—”
“Breathe, Kingston. Breathe,” Willow suggested, wiping her hands as she walked to his side, placing a soothing palm on his arm. “I know you take your charge very seriously, but we are all safe. You and the legion have made it so, and I trust you to keep us that way. We all do.”
His mounting angst instantly quieted as he glanced down at her. Kingston admired her in silence for a few moments, eyes filled with appreciation until he finally nodded. “Thank you, Lady Willow. I will try to remember that.”
With a triumphant grin, my friend left his side to return to me. “Now, you need to finish your meal and rest so your ribs can heal. You should be well in about three days if you don’t put any weight on it, or decide to go on one of your beast-riding adventures during the night.” She regarded me for a moment, and nudged the tray of food closer to me. “Do not sneak out on one of your Dragon flying escapades. I mean it.”
Biting my lower lip not to chuckle, I placed a hand over my chest. “I vow to stay put until I heal. But it really is nothing serious, I went through this when I was a girl and began to train with Kingston.”
“The second time you rode a Dragon,” he offered, nodding with a smile at the memory.
“Exactly. I know what I need to do, and I promise I’ll stay bedridden until then.”
A dubious glint illuminated Willow’s onyx eyes, like she knew better than to believe me, but she nodded anyway. “Very well, I’ll leave you then. I have to go talk to the cooks and—”
Her fleeting attention crossed paths with the sacred skin, and she lost her train of thought, going to the chair where it hung. She was easily distracted, and the significance of the Dragon skin was more than enough to derail her. Her hands unfolded the material, and she extended it on the floor—it was almost triple the length of the one Braxton and I had borrowed to sleep while on the beach.
“Did an ocean guardian really offer this to you as a gift?” she asked, still amazed at the part of the story she was privy to, and I nodded. Her gaze returned to the white scaled skin that showed shimmers of pink, purple, and blue, depending how the light hit it. “I know how special this is, but do you think I could get a piece of it?”
“Of course. Take all of it if you want,” I assured, bringing a piece of bread to my mouth while happiness captured her face.
“Thank you. I’m going to figure out how to cut into it, if one can even do as much, and I’ll bring you the rest later.” Willow headed towards the door, hugging it to her chest in excitement.
Kingston’s honey eyes followed her every step, and he offered her a kind smile when she walked by him, leaving the room. With a heavy sigh, he focused on me, making his way to my side and taking the seat Willow had previously occupied.
“How is Braxton?” I asked before he could speak, and a disapproving gleam entered his expression.
“Braxton Skyburrito?”
“I panicked,” I defended. “I couldn’t let him tell people his last name is Storm. The only thing anyone needs to do is add theSkyto it, and they will instantly know who he is. He doesn’t deserve to be judged by his father’s actions.” I glared at him pointedly. “And that goes for you too. What was that back there? You attacked him as soon as you saw him.”
“I warned him the second I noticed that he was holding you to him,” he clarified. “His behavior was both disrespectful and unacceptable.”
“You warned him? You pressed the blade of your spear to his neck without giving me a chance to explain. Let it be the last time you treat him like that, or anyone else for that matter. You are better than that, Kingston.”
Regret filtered into his eyes with my reproach, and he rubbed his face with both hands. “Forgive me, Princess, but he looks just like the Harbinger of Justice I once knew. When I saw him, all the pain, all the betrayal and loss squeezed my chest until I could barely breathe. For a split second, it was as though I was standing on the battleground again, watching my kin die all around me while he fled the battle, leaving us alone.”
Pushing the tray aside, my hand reached for his and I squeezed it tightly. “I know, and I’m truly sorry. But that wasn’t Braxton.”
With a heavy sigh, Kingston nodded. “The boy is well. We gave him clothes and articles for his personal hygiene. Asher took him to the kitchen to feed him, and then helped him settle in one of the trainee’s quarters.”
“The shared sleeping rooms?” I asked, baffled, and saw him nod. “No. I don’t want him there.”
“You said I could train him as a warrior. That I should try to figure out if he has any abilities as his father did so he can help us,” he argued, confused.
“I won’t falter on my word. You can train him. Yet, I do not want him sleeping in the common rooms with the other trainees.”
“But that is exactly what he is!” he insisted stubbornly. “A new recruit who knows less than nothing about Dragons, about our life, or even our history.”
“He is Braxton Skystorm!” I snapped, defensively. “The son of the Harbinger of Justice—the single most powerful warrior our kind ever saw—and I will not allow anyone to treat him like he is any less just because of the mistakes his father made later in life. Mistakes he corrected by giving his own life to save his wife and son.”
Blood roared through my veins as I held Kingston’s gaze, holding my ground. I might be young, I might be a woman, and I might be biased because of how I felt about Braxton, but I was right about this, and my guardian knew it. Grinding his teeth in disapproval, he finally nodded, and my hand went to my side, trying to contain the pain getting riled up had inflicted.
