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Edel laughed. The rest of the food was divine. It was a tragedy when June became too full to sample more of what she’d ordered. Thaddeus seemed to have an endless stomach, eating his third dish with as much enthusiasm as his first.
Watching him scoop morsels into his mouth reminded her of her brother at that age, innocent and eager for life…until their father had beat the light from his eyes. Though he took his rage out on all of them in turn, Jordan seemed to get the brunt of it. Every day June had discovered fresh bruises on his arms legs and back. Every day she would demand her mother do something about it, but she was but a shell of a woman, long broken even before she’d been blessed with children. Terror was her blanket. Misery was her world.
Then the day came when June changed everything. Blood pooling and splattered on the wall. The scream that seemed never ending. The scream she still heard in her nightmares.
Something caught June’s eye as Thaddeus reached across the table to sneak a tart. A familiar dark splotch under his sleeve, stark against the rest of his skin. Intuition sparked and June’s heart lurched into her throat.
Making her voice gentle, June said, “Let me clean off your fingers again. Hold still.” Gleefully chewing the tart, he held out his hands for her. Lightly and without making it obvious what she was looking for, June pushed his sleeve farther up his arm.
And there it was. A mark, probably a week old, faintly in the shape of a hand.
19
Tristan closed the cell door, where the witch, Xanthia, would remain until he decided what do to with her. She had accused her coven of conspiring to infiltrate his kingdom and do harm to his people. He wasn’t sure if he could believe her. Could any witch be trusted? He wasn’t sure.
But for now, he was more eager to return to June and set things right with her. He hurried up the steps and found Orik standing in his path, his expression worried.
“What is it?” asked Tristan.
“These rumors about you, you know…your father…”
Tristan groaned. “What of them?”
“I overheard some soldiers discussing it. The tone of the conversation was not good. I thought this would all die down, but it feels like someone may be perpetuating the things.”
Disappointment sank into Tristan’s bones. Was someone actively trying to undermine his honor? “Gather your most trusted soldiers and do what you can to discover the culprit.”
Orik nodded obediently. “Already on it. I will let you know what I find. On another note, do we need to worry about that witch’s claim?”
“We must consider that she is telling the truth. At the same time, we canna be too gullible. Have you known a witch to betray their coven? I want more information. In the meantime, let’s be vigilant against any supposed threat.” Tristan was itching to leave, but Orik wasn’t finished.
“So…you’re getting pretty attached to the human.” It wasn’t an accusation or even a question. Just a simple statement. Tristan couldn’t tell what his friend was thinking. Could he see how hopelessly lost he was for her? How inescapably enchanted? If he knew the extent of Tristan’s captivation, would he lose respect for his king and friend?
“I think I’m in love with her.” As soon as he said it aloud, doubt crept in like an inching vine.
A long silence cut between them. Tristan waited for the rebuke. For Orik to talk some sense into him.
“Will you claim her as your mate?”
Tristan glanced up, taken aback by Orik’s casual tone. “You don’t sound surprised.”
Orik smiled. “You don’t think I watched you with her on our return trip? I’ve never seen anything like it, but your bodies move together like a dance. Like you’re unconsciously working to stay in the other’s orbit.”
“You don’t think I’m being foolish?”
Orik shrugged. “I’ve never been in love, but someone once told me we are all fools in love, and from my own observations, that truth is universally absolute.”
“But she is no’ a dragon. She is no’ strong.”
“No’ strong? Can you be sure of that so soon? Just because she is no’ a dragon, does that make her weak? A Faieara is no’ a dragon, and yet you once contemplated make one of them your mate.”
“The Faieara have magic and live as long as we. Humans are so fragile. So short lived.”
“It’s true. Your time would be finite. But ask yourself, would you be happier with only a few years with her, or none at all?”
When Tristan imagined being without June, acid churned in his gut. “The kingdom may not accept her.”
“You may be challenged. Sure.” Orik nodded. “You’ll have to consider if you are strong enough for the both of you.”
