by Frost Kay
Her humility and humor caused Sage’s smile to widen. She liked Dor. “We’re meeting on the outskirts of the forest.”
Tehl wheeled his mount toward the battlefield and they pressed on. Passing over the battlefield was a quiet affair. The ground seemed to be stained red. She had no doubt that the earth would be painted with blood—both ally and foe—for quite some time.
The sky lightened, and she smiled as she caught sight of Raziel and Skye soaring above, Illya following behind. Dragons and flying felines.
“It’s seems unreal, doesn’t it?” Tehl asked.
“I can hardly believe it.”
“So, a dragon?
Sage glanced at him as they skirted the former Scythian camp and moved into the forest, forming a single line. It still was so bizarre to see snow meet forest.
Minutes passed before Peg grew frisky and tossed her head. They were close. “We leave the horses here,” Sage commanded.
All dismounted, and Sage felt unsteady on her feet. Being surrounded by trees caused goosebumps to break out across her skin. The last time she had been here, she’d been running for her life. She placed a hand on the nearest tree and steadied herself.
Tehl’s hand ran down her braid. “Do you need a moment?”
“I’m okay,” she huffed. Sage shook off the memories and pointed in the direction they were going. “Straight ahead, gentlemen. Don’t enter the ring,” she warned as Raziel and Rafe caught up, leaving Skye in a small meadow. Three Elite took up the front while Rafe, Raz, and Domin brought up the rear.
“Blasted ferns,” Raz grumbled. “Always in the way.”
His blasé comment loosened some of the tightness in her chest. What they were doing was something good; happy, even. “Dorcus?” she asked.
“She’s soaring through the sky with her dragon. Her father instructed her on where to meet us,” Rafe supplied.
The trees thinned, the meadow just visible.
“What the bloody hell is this?” Raziel asked when they’d exited the tree line.
“Looks like an execution ring,” Rafe growled.
Sage didn’t look at either brother as she stared up at the dais and stone throne. She seethed inside. It needed to be torn down. One thing at a time. From the corner of her eye, she caught Tehl studying her. She could almost see the questions running through his mind, but he uttered none of them. And she was thankful for it.
Her stomach dropped as her gaze skittered over the post where William had been murdered. The pulse at her neck began hammering, and sweat beaded at the back of her neck. Sage pointed to the levers on the north and south sides with a shaking finger. “Three men on each side. Pull the lever toward the west and stay out of the ring.”
Silently, the men followed her command and Tehl stepped closer to her right side when Dor and Illya soared above them before landing on the south side of the dais. The Nagali princess slid from her dragon’s back and moved to flank Sage’s left side.
“Pull the levers,” Sage said.
The ground groaned before the taut chains began moving toward them and disappearing into the ground on either side of the circle. An emerald scaled snout was the first thing to exit the cave on the east side of the meadow. The dragon hissed, its hostile green eyes darting around the circle.
Dor sucked in a sharp breath when he was fully emerged. “His wings,” she choked out. “So many scars.”
Sage watched as the dragon homed in on Illya and seemed to swell in size. She took three steps forward, pulling the hostile dragon’s attention. Gasps erupted around her, but she didn’t pay them any mind as she locked eyes with the beast.
“That’s far enough,” Tehl murmured softly.
She paused and slowly unbuckled the daggers at her waist before tossing them behind her. The dragon was angry, but she could see his intelligence. Sage held her hands out and knelt, making herself as nonthreatening as possible.
“I made you a promise the last time I was here.” She paused and then touched the scars at her throat. “He is gone. He can’t hurt you any longer.” The dragon’s gem-like eyes glittered. “I plan to release you. Please don’t eat anyone here. We’re friends, not enemies.”
Dorcus clicked, and the dragon hissed, his gaze focused on the girl. The dragon released a series of terrifying growls, hums, and clicks.
“What does he say?” Sage asked.
“She hates eating humans, so she won’t bother with your men unless they attack her.”
A female dragon. It would explain the size difference between the emerald dragon and the massive Illya.
Sage smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet such a fierce dragoness. I’m sure you wish to be gone from this place. Nagali is uninhabited; if you wish to be undisturbed, you should settle there. Although, you will be welcomed in any of the kingdoms.”
The dragon clicked again, seeming more agitated.
“She won’t leave this meadow. It’s her territory,” Dor translated. “Also, Illya says her wings are too damaged for travel.”
Sympathy swamped Sage. It was a cruel thing to mutilate such a stunning creature. “If you’ll allow it, we’ll relieve you of the chains. We don’t have the equipment to rid you of the collar today.”
Dorcus, Illya, and the new dragon spoke in a way that reminded Sage of rough song. She eyed the chains. “Can Illya rip the chains from the ground?”
“I think so. He’s much larger than the female.”
The dragoness hissed.
“No disrespect intended,” Dor murmured. “Give Illya room!”
Sage retreated to the edge of the forest, along with the men, when Illya scooped the chain into his mouth and crunched down. Her eyes widened as metal squealed and snapped like a child breaking a small stick.
“Wicked hell,” Tehl breathed.
Illya lumbered to the other side of the meadow and repeated the action. The female dragon held her head high and reluctantly tipped her chin upward so that Illya could repeat the process on either side of the collar. As soon as the deed was done, she scuttled backward, and spines along the ridge of her back flared.
That wasn’t good.
“It’s okay,” Dor whispered. “She’s just defending her territory.”
Illya held his ground but retreated eventually.
The emerald dragon scanned the tree line, and her eyes seemed to pin Sage in place. She clicked and then waited. Sage glanced at Dor, who blinked slowly.
“She says you’re foolish and should leave.”
For some reason, that made Sage chuckle. Staring down a dragon was on the tame end of foolish things she’d done in her lifetime.
“As you wish,” she called and turned to leave.
The dragon clicked.
Dor quirked a smile, her brown eyes glittering. “Her name is Dia, and she says the little fool can visit sometime.”
Sage smiled over her shoulder. A fool she was, because she’d be back.
“I’ll see you soon, Dia.”
Sixty
Mira
“I need to be there,” Gav bit out.
Mira shook her head, dipping into her well of patience that she reserved for especially troublesome soldiers. “And I said no. You need to be on bedrest for weeks to come.”
His purple eyes flashed in anger. “I cannot miss it.”
“And you can’t afford to lose your leg,” she retorted. Mira inhaled sharply. What happened to biting her tongue and controlling her anger? In the three days since the fever had broken, Gavriel had been an utter nuisance. The charming prince was nowhere to be found, and in his place was an absolute troll. She placed her hands on her hips and met his glare. “If you attempt to leave this cot one more time, I’ll tie you to it myself.”
His lip curled. “Do you really want to threaten a prince?”
That got to her. Mira leaned down into his space, her loose hair pooling on his chest. “I don’t see any princes in this room. Only a grouchy, defiant patient who is making my work harder.” She straightene
d and calmly walked toward the exit. She’d already wasted fifteen minutes arguing with him, and she’d be damned if she humored him any longer.
“Don’t let him get up,” she mumbled to one of the soldiers standing by the tent flap. The soldier nodded once and glanced quickly over her shoulder. Mira scowled. “Don’t you be looking at him. He’s not in charge in this room. My credentials trump his in this situation.”
Mira tossed her head and sent Gav one last glare over her shoulder. “Don’t cause any more issues or I’ll sic Osir on you. She’s not nearly as nice as me.”
“Anyone would be better than you,” he mumbled.
She gritted her teeth and kept her stride, even as she moved through the infirmary, grabbed her cloak, and exited. Her breath came a little easier as she inhaled the crisp, clean air. The midmorning sun cascaded light across the ground, the ice sparkling like a thousand diamonds. Beautiful.
Tucking her cloak closer around her body, she turned, lifted her eyes, and locked gazes with Raziel as he rounded a tent. His stride lengthened at the sight of her. Mira’s heart fell. She did not want to have this conversation now.
She turned on her heel, and fled toward the glen she frequented for quiet time. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t follow, but the practical part knew he would. At least no one else would learn of her shame.
“Why do I have the feeling that you’re running from me, dearest?”
Mira gathered her misplaced anger and spun to face him, her plain cloak flaring around her boots. She flung her hands out and pointed a finger at him. “I am not your dearest.” Her soul withered from the hateful words spilling from her lips.
Raz slowed to a stop and an awkward silence began to stretch between them. He scanned her face, his expression revealing nothing of his feelings. His brows furrowed, and then determination filled his face like he’d come to a decision. He stormed toward her, and Mira braced for what he would say. A squeak escaped her when he pulled her into a bear hug, her body held tightly against his.
“What is going on?” he asked softly.
Mira held herself stiffly. She began counting, and only made it to thirty before she gave in and sagged against him. After being berated by the creature that had inhabited Gav’s body for the last three days, it was nice to be held. Her face pressed against his cloak, and she soaked in the comfort he was offering, even though she shouldn’t be. It wasn’t right for him to be holding her. They couldn’t be anything to each other but friends.
Raz petted her wild hair, his fingers sinking into her tangled locks, pulling a few baby hairs at her nape. The pain helped her clarify a few things.
“I can’t do this,” she mumbled into his chest.
He tipped her head back and stared down at her face. “Can’t do what?”
Heat filled her eyes, but she battled the tears back. “This.” A rueful smile touched his mouth as she waved her hand between their chests. “It won’t work.”
“Give me one good reason.”
“I’ll give you five.” She held up her first finger. “For one, I’m not royalty.”
He shook his head, looking slightly amused. “I know you aren’t, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve already spoken about this. Who sired you doesn’t matter in my culture, and—” another handsome smile “—I’ve asked around and discovered the laws in Aermia require someone who is of royal blood to marry someone of common blood. So, by your own laws and mine, we’re just fine.”
“You’re not taking this seriously,” she accused. That wiped the smile from his face.
“You’re wrong. I take everything seriously when it comes to you.” He gazed down at her soberly. “Tell me what is really wrong. You’re skirting around the issue.”
Mira pushed out of his arms and walked two steps away to gather her thoughts. Once again, she faced him, and her stomach rolled. Why couldn’t he just let it go?
“I can’t marry you,” she whispered.
“You know what I think?” Raziel murmured. “I think you’re looking for excuses not to be happy. You keep saying you can’t, but I say that you won’t.” His lips pursed. “Did I read the signs wrong? Do you not like me?”
“Of course, I like you. You’re funny, and you care for those around you with such compassion and love. You’re an amazing friend.”
“More than just a friend, surely?”
“More than a friend,” she admitted, a sneaky tear leaking from her left eye. There was no way around it. She needed to lay it all out there for him. “I can’t give you children,” she said bluntly.
Raz stiffened and blinked once, slowly. “What do you mean?”
She huffed out a breath. “Exactly what I said. I cannot have children,” she choked out. “So, no heirs for Methi if you were to take up with me. Your wife needs to be able to give you children, and I can’t—” Her voice broke.
The Methian prince rushed forward and once again pulled her into his arms. His kindness unleashed the torrent of tears lurking just beneath the surface. Mira clung to him and cried, releasing all her pain and anguish. It had been some years since her father had told her the brutal truth, but it was only just now hitting her hard.
“I’m so sorry, dearest,” he crooned, rocking her back and forth.
“An accident right when I was on the bloom of womanhood stole my future.” She hiccupped. “Papa said I would never have children.” Mira’s chin trembled as she tipped her head back and forced herself to meet Raziel’s gaze. “You understand why it’s impossible for us to marry.”
He dropped a small kiss onto the tip of her nose. “I don’t need to have children of my own.”
Her eyes flew wide, and she tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
“This war has robbed many children of mothers and fathers. Regardless of if I sire my own children, I plan to adopt those that I can care for. You needn’t bear me children.”
Mira was so shocked her mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what to say. Having an heir was important to secure the throne. “Does your family have the same values?” she rasped.
“We will make our own family.” He didn’t answer her question, so a resounding no.
“I can’t let you do that,” she said finally.
“Will you rob me of my own choice?”
Mira, although saddened, smiled at the prince. He really was the best. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Right now, it may be easy to say you don’t want your own children, but what about down the road? We’ve known each other a short period of time. I don’t want you to regret having chosen me, and more importantly, I don’t want you to lose out on having your own child. It’s a miracle. I would not have you suffer loss.” Mira cupped his whiskered cheek. “I care for you, and you’ve become one of my closest friends.”
“More than that,” he interrupted.
“You’re right, and it’s because I care for you that I’m saying no. Also, the selfish part of me couldn’t handle it if you eventually looked upon me with disappointment. I want you to have every happiness in the world, Raz.”
“This was not how I imagined today going.” He huffed. “I had hoped to formally announce our engagement. You really won’t consent to marry me?”
Stars, this is hard. “I won’t.” She pulled her hand away from his cheek and hugged him. “Aermia needs me. I’ve been trained my whole life to become the next Royal Healer.” Her thoughts turned to her papa. “And I cannot leave my father.”
Raziel pulled her closer and they stood quietly in the glen. “I feel like this is goodbye,” he muttered. “I don’t want it to be goodbye.”
“We’ve been good friends this entire time,” Mira said. “Do you think we could carry on as we did before?”
“Maybe not immediately, but I think we can be friends. The best of friends.”
She smiled and squeezed him. “The best.”
Things didn’t always go according to plan, but sometimes even when they were bitter, they were
sweet.
Sixty-One
Sage
It was done.
She stared at the signed document once again.
“We did it,” Tehl murmured.
They did. It was surreal. The warlord was gone, the Scythian army subdued, and a real peace treaty signed between all the kingdoms.
She traced her finger over the Nagali princess’s signature. A culture they all had thought lost was reborn like a phoenix. It was hardly believable.
“I have some other good news,” her husband said, moving around the table to face her.
Sage smiled at him. “I don’t know if I can bear anything else. I might just implode.”
Tehl gave her a devastating smile. “You’ll welcome this. Sam sent news. Jasmine has been found.”
She stilled. Finally. “Is she okay? Where was she found? And the babe?”
He held up a hand. “She’s in good health, and so is their daughter!”
“Daughter?” she whispered, her eyes growing damp. A daughter.
“You’re an aunt, my love. Little Lana was born four days ago.”
“Lana,” Sage murmured before promptly bursting into noisy tears. Jasmine had been on her mind for days. She’d feared the worst. It killed her not to be able to search for her friend. Tehl pulled Sage from the chair and hugged her.
“I wasn’t expecting this reaction.”
She wiped at her face. “Women cry for all sorts of reasons.”
“This is a happy cry?”
“Yeah,” she croaked.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tehl mused. “The body is a bizarre machine.”
Sage laughed. He wasn’t wrong. She pulled away and wiped at her face. “I’m okay. Go get into the bath.”
His eyes heated. “Get in with me?”
“Perhaps.” She nodded toward their room of the tent. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
Tehl dropped a kiss on her temple and moved through the tent flap to their room. She turned back to the bare table, holding a copy of the treaty. Once again, she gently ran her fingers over the document. In the beginning, she’d set out only to make a difference in Aermia. She’d never anticipated the far-reaching effects of her actions. While change had been brought about… a fist squeezed her lungs, making it harder to breathe… It had come with the cost of so much blood.