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“She was shocked when I told her.”
The tense set of Freyja’s shoulders relaxes a bit, telling me she was worried that her cousins may have known of her imprisonment and death sentence. Known and not cared. I am glad to remove that doubt from her.
“There is more.” I place two fingers up under her chin, studying her luminous eyes. “Queen Inara has powers, similar to your fire magic. It was the same type of magic I’ve seen Varys wield before. I suspect it is a result of her fated bond to him, just as your fire magic came from our bond.”
“Do the Mages know of Inara’s powers?” she asks.
“If they do, neither of them said.”
“Will the Dark Elves go to Ithylian’s aid?”
“I believe they will. Varys’s marriage to Inara was made to broker peace between their kingdoms and foster an alliance.”
Her blue eyes meet mine evenly. “Would you help Florin if they asked for your aid?”
It was only a matter of time before she asked this question, and I have been dreading it the entire journey back home. “King Varys and Queen Inara asked me this as well.” I clench my jaw. “At the time, I told them it was not worth risking the lives of my people.” I run a hand roughly through my hair. “My grandfather once trusted a human king and it nearly led to our ruin. I have always told myself I would never make the same mistake he did.
“If you had no intention of helping humans, why send scouts to my uncle’s kingdom?” she asks. “Why bother if you never intended to get involved in the first place?”
“That is different.” Frustration burns through me as she levels an accusatory gaze at me. Does she not realize that all I have done has been to protect her? In truth, I care not if her uncle’s kingdom falls. I only care that she would be upset by it, if it happened. “We share a border with Ruhaen. I sent scouts to make sure the Order of Mages were not a threat to you, Freyja.”
“What about my uncle?” Her eyes search mine. “What about the people of Ruhaen?”
“I will not lie to you, Freyja.” I clench my jaw. “I will not pretend that any of that matters to me when all I care about is you and this kingdom.”
“Are you saying you will not help Ruhaen or Florin if they ask you for aid?” Disappointment flashes in her eyes. “Even when you know that the Mages and the Wraith are not just a threat to them, but to everyone?”
I hold her gaze evenly as I touch her face. She is more precious to me than any gold or gemstones. And I will do anything to protect her.
“The entire journey home, all I could think of was you, Freyja. I will do anything to protect you from harm.” I take her hand and bring it to my chest. “You are my heart, my T’kara. And I realized that you will never be safe so long as the Order of Mages remains.” A deep growl rises in my throat. “They tried to end you, and now they will know the terrifying horrors of a Dragon’s wrath. I will burn their bodies to ash and raze their temples to the ground. And I will not stop until all of them are dead.”
CHAPTER45
FREYJA
Our bootsteps echo loudly across the polished stone floor as we enter the throne room. Aurdyn and I are alone. Brovyn is supposed to meet us, but he has yet to arrive, it seems.
There is so much room in this large, cavernous space, and I wonder if it is this way to accommodate the massive four-legged form of Aurdyn’s people, if they wished.
We walk toward the two thrones at the far end of the room, and I marvel at the gorgeous scrolling carvings etched into the stone, similar to the intertwining patterns I’ve seen on the doors. Each of these elegant lines and images is highlighted with gold that one would think would make the throne appear gaudy, but it does not.
Sunlight filters in from a large, glass dome overhead, gilding the entire dais that holds the throne. The brilliant light shines iridescent on Aurdyn’s silver-white scales, lending him an ethereal glow.
Lining either side of the room are two rows of long stone benches. I suppose they are for people of importance.
The thrones are perfect mirror images of each other in size, shape, and design. The space between them is perfectly aligned with the doors we entered from so that neither one is more centered than the other. I study it curiously. In Ruhaen, my uncle’s throne is much larger and more lavishly decorated than the one beside it, meant for a queen consort should he ever choose to wed.
“Which one is yours?” I ask.
Aurdyn leans close and a teasing smirk twists his lips. “If you become my queen, you may have your pick. I do not favor one over the other.”
I blink up at him. “Then… whoever you take as your mate would be your equal?”
“Yes.” His eyes search mine. “Why does this surprise you?”
“I—I thought that it would be like Ruhaen or Florin. Whomever is the ruler, their mate becomes the Queen’s or King’s consort. And in some human kingdoms, only males can inherit the crown.”
Aurdyn’s head jerks back. “Why only males?”
