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“Lysandra might,” she muttered. “To force my hand. She might try to run me out of Goldhaven by outing me as Agnan’s child.”
I pursed my lips, carefully considering my next words. “We could call her bluff with a DNA test,” I suggested, and Elix’s face paled more.
“And if it proves that I am Agnan’s daughter?”
I stifled the shiver that threatened to run through me.
My poor Elix. She doesn’t deserve any of this.
“Then we’ll slay that dragon, too, won’t we?” I promised, kissing her lips sweetly. I drew back and peered at her. “But whatever happens, we’ll conquer this together. I promise you that.”
Her slender form sank against me, and I stroked her hair, my mind racing.
We needed to find Lysandra, and quickly.
Chapter 12
Elix
The resentment I had toward my brother was fading over time. I understood why Saint had hidden the little he knew about my bloodline, and even though I didn’t agree with it, I knew I couldn’t hold a grudge against him forever. Saint had always done his best to protect me, and I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I had without him.
I stayed in contact with him, at least texting every other day, but despite his constant pleas that I return to stay with him, I’d never been more sure that I was exactly where I belonged. Jace and I were mated, the tug in my heart evident every time he was near, the pull toward him lingering when we were apart. I wasn’t going anywhere.
But Saint’s warning about my secret being discovered didn’t disappear, either.
A week after I arrived back at Goldhaven Palace, I found Cirilla in the gardens, practicing some kind of meditative martial arts.
Jace had gone into Geldon to meet the ministers again, and I had paced the vast halls, rifling through the rolodex of things I wanted to say to the enchantress whom I wasn’t sure wanted tosee me after what she’d learned. It felt to me like Cirilla had been keeping her distance, except when Jace was nearby.
At first, I watched the enchantress flow through the graceful movements, raising her hands toward the air, chin rising to greet the sunshine, leg extended behind her. Her multicolored locks were pinned neatly into a kerchief around her solemn face, lips pulled into a serious line.
I didn’t think she saw me until she called out, “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re gaping at me, Elix. Either spit out what you have to say or leave me in peace.”
Embarrassed, I shuffled out of my conspicuous hiding spot, watching her hands fall against her skinny frame.
“Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly. “I was just waiting for you to finish.”
She offered me a thin smile and released her hair from the head covering, the braids falling to her waist as she set her violet eyes on me. “It’s about time you came to see me,” she said. “Let’s go get some iced tea.”
Surprised by her nonchalance, I waited for her to scoop up her yoga mat and followed her back toward the kitchen entrance of the palace.
“I didn’t think you wanted to see me,” I admitted, trailing behind her. Cirilla snorted but didn’t reply.
The chefs were in full cooking mode as we entered, preparing for the evening meal. Some nodded at me and Cirilla, but most of the staff continued their work with a passion I admired. I’d been spending some time of my own in there, learning new recipes when my hands got tired of painting in the huge art studio that Jace had gifted me before I’d left for Copehaven.
Cirilla led us toward the scullery kitchen and away from the bustle, so we were out of the way of the cooking staff. Bending over, she popped open the bar fridge and grabbed a pitcher offreshly brewed iced tea before grabbing a couple of glasses from the cupboards overhead.
“You were waiting for me to find you?” I repeated when she handed me a glass, urging the conversation along. She was making me nervous with her silence. “Why didn’t you just come to me?”
Cirilla shrugged. “It’s not my place to come to you,” she answered enigmatically.
My eyebrow rose as I took a sip of the unsweetened tea. “No offense, Ciri, but you don’t really follow much protocol,” I remarked, setting the glass down.
“Touché.” She grinned and took a sip of her own, eyes popping in disgust. “Who made this crap? Where’s the sugar?”
Grunting, she opened another cupboard in the prep area and found a canister of sugar, dumping it freely into the pitcher as I watched in amusement. Shaking it gently, she flicked her eyes back toward me.
“But in this case, you needed to come to me. It’s not my place to offer help. If you want it, you have to take it yourself.”
