beginning of the end for the war, at least that is what
they assume,” she mentioned.
Egan was entrenched in awe of the child; her small
stature and physique made her power and ability even
more awe-inspiring. As they reached the path, Brenin
was waiting for them.
“Ah,” he sighed as he stepped towards them,
“finally, you’re back. Librye, dinner is ready, please,
leave me and Egan, we need to talk,” he embraced her
before she ran down the path and towards the palace.
“Well?” Brenin asked, he held his hands behind his
back as he proudly walked towards Egan.
Egan shook his mighty head. “There is little I can
say, the dragons will help, all we can, but her power far
outweighs ours.” Egan watched Librye as she ran back
towards the palace, she gave a bow to the guards
before stepping back inside, they too bowed to Librye.
“She is a wonder of nature, and one to keep a close
eye on, if she is to lead this world towards the victory it
needs, she must be protected.” He gave a stark
warning to Brenin. “Protect her as you would your
own child, she is, after all, only a child, her innocence
is as precious as her life.”
Brenin nodded, he had already been warned by
Mord to protect her, and he intended to do just that.
Slowly he walked down the path towards the palace
with Egan. “And what of her secrets?”
Egan shook his head as he looked to the floor.
“They are not the stars; her secrets are something
else.” Egan stopped; he held his head high. “A
warning I can give,” he said with a deep thunder in his
voice, “do not question her secrets, let no one
question her secrets, a fate worse than death will await
them.”
“It isn’t the first time I’ve heard that.” He raised
his brows as he began to walk towards Egan. “Believe
me when I tell you this, Egan, there is nothing in this
world that could ever harm her, while I’m around, that
is my promise to you.” Egan softened his eyes towards
Brenin and bowed his head. “Now go, tell them what
you’ve seen.”
Egan gave an enormous push with his wings and
took off from the ground, Brenin struggled to stand,
he stood as hard as he could against the wind from
Egan’s wings. He took off into the skies and
disappeared, over the Cronnin palace. He flew low
over the city, giving the people there one last view of a
dragon before he left. The dragons of Draco had
never instilled fear into the hearts of the feymen.
Walking into the kitchen, Brenin brought shock to
all in the room as the staff slammed to the floor,
attempting to bow to him. Librye sat at the table eating
her meal.
“Well?” she asked, “what did he say?”
“He is impressed,” replied Brenin, as he sat
opposite her. The staff began to scurry about the
kitchen, trying to leave. It was rare to see the king in
the kitchen, in fact, none of them could recall the last
time they had seen him there at all. “I do need to warn
you of something though,” he raised his brows as he
lowered his head towards her.
Librye lifted her eyes towards him. “I already
know,” she softly said, “the Draco dragons, they’re
different,” a strange solace in her voice sent a shiver
through Brenin, running up his spine. “The black
dragons, of Volnot, they’re not on our side.” Her eyes
looked towards him, Brenin sat upright. “Books tell
you a lot.”
Brenin raised his brows. “But the stars will always
tell you more,” his soft words were always listened to
by the staff, who showed an affection towards him.
“Egan will listen to all you need to tell him, just
remember, you can always talk to me as well.” He
seemed distant from her as he stood and walked from
the kitchen, taking an apple from Gethen’s bowl on
his large workbench as he left.
Hope was growing in Marrion, Harris had finally
woken, but he could not walk properly. His chiefs
were sure to make regular visits to his chambers.
Laying in his bed, Harris awaited the arrival of Anna.
Fresh from battle; Anna burst into the room, but
instead of walking straight in, she turned and faced the
door with her hands held at the front of her.
Branwen looked up. “It’s safe, Anna,” said Harris
holding a grin.
Branwen continued bringing a pitcher of water to
Harris’s bedside. “Safe?” she quietly asked.
Anna made her way in as she explained, “Our
promiscuous commander is often in the most
uncompromising positions when we enter.” She stood
by Harris’s bedside, receiving an unwelcome glare
from Harris. “We’ve all learned to enter with care.”
Her brows raised and mouth curled down in
disapproval towards him.
Branwen stood upright; her eyes softened, and
mouth curled, she slowly shook her head towards him
with her lips pinched tightly together.
“I get lonely,” Harris mockingly replied.
Branwen raised her brows as she turned. “It’s no
excuse,” she jokingly said.
“What news, Anna?” asked Harris, his mind was
fully awake, but his body seemed exhausted. He
stretched his arms up as he tried to sit up straight in
his bed, his chest was still tight, and knee still did not
work properly. He raised his brow towards her. “If it’s
bad then you know what I expect,” he said with a wide
grin.
Anna sighed, “Not going to happen.”
“What would you expect, Commander?” Branwen
innocently asked, her intrigue in him sparked interest.
Harris gave a broad smile, but as he looked to her
innocent face, he felt he needed to be honest, but
gentle.
“Anna is Xencliff, she left with me, from one of
the taverns there,” he softly explained. He could see
the growing question in Branwen’s haunting blue eyes.
“Branwen, something we did in Blodmoor, if Anna
lost a battle, or didn’t perform as expected…why am I
struggling to say it?” he looked towards Anna, wide
eyed.
Anna furrowed her brow and tilted her head
towards him. “No idea,” she replied with a snigger. “If
I fuck up, he gets a cock suck,” she said with wide
eyes. “Not any more though,” she quickly said as she
glared towards him. “I’m trying to behave, plus, it’s
better the other way.” Branwen drew back, remorseful
she asked, she did not wish to hear something so
crude, but Anna and Harris seemed close, as friends,
she could not imagine them being anything more.
Stepping into the room she began to remove her
armour and place it near the desk. The heavy steel
armour pounded to the ground.
“It’s not good, the ground is ours for today, the
next battle i
s set for three days from now, it will take us
into Saed.” Having removed her armour, she walked
further towards his bed. “You need to heal, fast, we
can hold them off, but the vitriol is terrifying to them,
it’s pushing them further to the coast.”
Harris sat on the side of his bed, twisting his arms
around his front he tried to stretch. “That was the
plan, we don’t need any more of it, so long as the
threat is there. We can’t rely on supplies, we must now
rely on their fear, and using it against them.”
Anna could not help but notice that Harris was
wearing a loose-fitting cream tunic, he was retaining
whatever modesty he had left. Anna rolled her eyes,
his tactics were different, but she was still getting used
to it. Anna walked towards his desk, she could see the
piles of papers, it was unlike Harris - who liked to
keep order in his room.
“Your desk is filling with unread letters, Harris,”
she looked to the desk with several unrolled scrolls,
she lifted some and held them up to him.
Branwen looked from the darkened corner of the
room towards Anna. “While he is healing, work stays
on the desk.” Her brows raised as she walked towards
Anna, “you are all more than capable of doing his
duty, please, take them.”
Harris gave a saddened look to Anna. “My leg still
won’t work, and this one,” he flicked his head towards
Branwen, “won’t help.” He clearly disapproved of
Branwen’s healing methods.
Anna took some of the scrolls and threw them on
the bed. “He cannot be stopped, Branwen,” she said
with a twisted smile, “I know you’re trying to help; we
all appreciate that,” she gave a large sigh, “but as much
as I hate to say it, we need Harris’s mind right now.”
Anna turned in the room and gave a disgusted groan.
“I can’t believe I just said that,” she walked back
towards the desk, “I can actually feel your ego
growing.”
“Come closer,” said Harris with a widening smile,
“see what else you can get to grow,” he joked. Anna
gave a slow, very unimpressed blink towards Harris.
Branwen laughed, Harris gave a wide grin towards
Branwen. “I told you, I have earned my arrogance.”
As Harris began to read through the scrolls, Anna
let her hair down, unravelling her platted hair, her hair
looked wet, but it was dry, filled with dried blood.
Harris reached over his bed and took a drink from the
cabinet at the side.
“It’s not looking good,” he said with a low voice,
“the mabeara have mobilised, they’re sending them
south,” he looked to Anna. He furrowed his brow.
“You look like shit,” he commented. Branwen raised
her brows towards him disapprovingly. “What?” he
barked, “she does.”
“Might I suggest,” said Branwen as she walked
closer to Anna, “a relaxing bath, a night to recover?”
Anna looked around Branwen’s shoulder, she too
raised her brows towards him. “And that, Harris, is
how you speak to a lady.”
“I don’t need to be told how to speak to women,”
said Harris with a widening grin. Anna began to leave,
“you should know, Anna!” he called to her.
“Piss off, Harris!” she comically shouted as she
left.
With Anna returning to her chambers, Harris
shuffled his legs back into his bed and got back to
reading silently. He could not help but glance up as
Branwen floated about the room, tidying the linens,
cleaning the sides, and dusting the shelves. His eyes
seemed to follow her every move. Her hourglass figure
was inviting to his eyes.
“If you’re going to continue to stare, I can remove
the papers from your bed,” said Branwen as she
dusted the shelf in front of him.
He knew she had noticed, and he liked it. Harris
laughed. “Apologies, but you are just…” Harris
paused, he gave a look of pure delight, “stunning,” he
said with disbelief, “I mean, look at you, stuck in the
camps as well, you should be there for all the world to
see,” he raised his brows, “at least that way the Atlanti
would possibly not want to kill us all.”
Branwen turned; she narrowed her eyes as she
came close to the bed. Taking the drink from the side
she gave a large sniff. “Apologies, thought you might
be drunk.”
Harris could not help but laugh. “I’m being
serious, you’re really a very attractive woman,” he
nodded approvingly with his mouth curled down.
Branwen shook her head as she walked away.
After a few moments of further cleaning, she could not
hold her questions any longer.
Sharply, she turned. “I’ve heard of you, Harris
Bearwood,” she held an inquisitive tone as she drifted
towards him, “what I do fail to see though, is the
attraction.” Harris remained plain faced. Branwen
pryingly continued to drift closer to him, he found it
overwhelmingly attractive. “I’ve heard stories of the
commander who never has to pay for a tavern, any
woman would be glad to see him in their bed for the
night,” she said with wonder. “But why? I mean yes,
you’re handsome, but many are.” She walked towards
her chair near the window, a darkness seemed to
cover her there. “What makes you so special?”
Harris was astounded. He sat back in his bed.
“Firstly, I often pay, secondly I, am a fucking delight,”
he said with a wide smile as he held his head high with
a slight sway to his head. He was clearly up for playing
one of his many games with Branwen. A shocked
smile covered her face. “Let’s see, if you can guess,
what makes me so good at what I do.” His grin
widened.
She could feel a strange want, a need to know, but
she was pure, she was clean, she would never let such
an insufferable, immoral man change her view.
“You think you’re a charmer,” she sat forward
from the shadow, “you make these women think that
they need you, you make them feel better about what
they do,” she guessed.
Harris gave an audible laugh, his high tone told her
she was wrong. “Ludicrous, utter bollocks,” he
sneered. He gave a flirtatious grin. “Well, if you really
wish to know what makes me so good at what I do,”
his voice lowered and softened; his eyes showed a
gentle side to the brutal commander, “I may just have
to show you, then you’ll understand.”
Branwen flew her head back and laughed. “I’m
untouched, you really think you would be my first?”
she jokingly asked.
He whispered, deeply, “You are curious.” She
could see the softness in his eyes, and he could see her
growing curiosity, “you’ve sat there for ten days or
more, watching, wondering,” he slowly said the
word,
“Wanting.” He did not want Branwen, he knew the
blood which ran through her veins was royal, he knew
she was one of the untouched, and he would not be
the first to touch the daughter of a queen as terrifying
as Harelda. “You want to know what all those women
feel, you want to know, what it is that I do, but mostly,
you want to know, what I would do to get you in my
bed.”
He was not wrong; she had wondered this. “As an
untouched, I would never do such a thing, my chastity
is my service to the gods,” she quickly stood.
“The gods!” laughed Harris. He asked with a high
comical tone, “Since when did they make an
appearance? And since when did they care about
who’s fucking who?”
“Do not give up on them, they have not given up
on you,” she could see something in Harris which only
drew her closer to him, he had not lost his way in life,
he had given up on those who would never give up on
him. “You may not feel that now, but you’re alive.”
Harris shook his head, he sat up and gave a
scornful look, “Exactly.”
Branwen stood, slowly she walked towards him.
“Who hurt you, Harris?”
“The world hurt me, just as it hurts everyone, I
don’t charm women, I don’t act like I deserve to bed
every one of them, I do nothing, that is what makes
me unique.” Branwen took a chair from the side of
the bed which had been against the wall, she placed it
beside his bed. Sat quietly, she listened with a
chastened look. “I lost everything, but the only thing
that couldn’t be taken, was me, I am who I am,
because I remain the same arrogant, vain, splendid
arsehole I’ve always been, I have my father’s looks and
my mother’s passion, it makes for a volatile mix,
granted, but I will never deceive someone for my own
passionate gain,” he looked to Branwen, noticing she
was completely taken by everything he was saying her,
her parted lips attracted him. “My mother sent me to
the taverns, hoping I could work as a porne, I was
taught by the best, and became better, I protect
people, Branwen, simply by remaining the man I am.”
“You really are just you, I think I may actually be
impressed,” she said with a widening smile.
“Better still, you must be bored.” He pointed to a
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