20

“There’s quite a lot to discuss,” King Draunar said. “Have lunch with me tomorrow and I’ll be happy to share the historical knowledge I have.”

I looked up at him. He was leaning against the desk with his arms crossed casually over his chest, one eyebrow arched curiously.

I rolled up the map and tucked it back into the leather tube. While I was still internally delighted to have such a rare artifact in my possession, I wasn’t going to let King Draunar know that. He was using this gift to manipulate me—to what end, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t understand his motivations, and that scared me more than his behavior. I could handle a creep. But a creep who was the King of Shianga, of that I wasn’t so sure.

“Your Highness,” I said, “I’m not sure what my husband would think of a private lunch between us.”

King Draunar laughed, loud and booming, like I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. He shook his head. “Queen Reyna, it’s just lunch. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything your husband wouldn’t approve of.”

I frowned. He spoke of Elias like the two were old friends—when I knew that wasn’t the case.

Or at least, I thought I knew.

“King Elias isn’t the only one with decision-making power, I assume,” King Draunar said. “I’d like to know you better as well—as your own woman, not just as the king’s wife. It’ll aid in our kingdom’s peace talks. Don’t you agree?”

I exhaled through my nose, suppressing a more dramatic deep breath. I glanced over my shoulder at the settee. Fina scowled, her focus on King Draunar, looking like she could leap to my defense at any moment. Adora had her hands folded demurely in her lap and her expression was carefully impassive.

There was no good answer here. Either I turned him down, potentially causing problems in Elias’ negotiations, or I accepted a private lunch date without knowing what he wanted from me. If I had two bad choices in front of me, I was always going to pick the one that would give me more answers.

“Well,” I said, “I do hope you’ll pardon me, but I’d like to see what the day brings and send word in the morning. Would that be acceptable?”

The green in his eyes seemed to suddenly glow brighter, but only for a moment. I didn’t need to see that to know my answer hadn’t pleased him. He cleared his throat and stood up straight.

“Fine,” he said curtly. “I’ll expect word from your handmaidens in the morning.”

7

T

he rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. By the time I made it back to my quarters, the Shiangan staff were nearly in a tizzy because I was apparently behind schedule to get ready. They dressed me in the finest gown I’d brought, black silk with a high collar and lace sleeves, letting my hair fall in pale waves over my shoulders before fastening the delicate gold crown across my forehead.

Elias met me just outside the quarters, already dressed himself in a fine black silk shirt and trousers, under a ceremonial cloak fixed with a gold wolf’s head brooch. He still looked distant—like his mind was elsewhere, even as he offered my arm to guide me.

“Just try to get through this,” he murmured as we walked towards the throne room. “Draunar is a bit of a showman. Smile and nod.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He sighed. “You’ll see.”

The great ornate doors loomed ahead of us, made of ivory, and gilded with scenes of dragons swooping through a mountain range. Music was already playing behind them: pounding drums and bright horns, a high energy sound that was similar in tempo to the jigs of Nightfall, but the drums made it even more thrilling. My heartbeat synced itself up to the beat, and my nerves melted in anticipation. My time in Shianga had been odd so far—but the excitement of experiencing a new culture overwhelmed all of that.

The doors were swept open.

I gasped.

The throne room was immense, long and narrow with the entire back wall made of glass that revealed the large, gorgeously maintained courtyard behind it, exploding with plant life similar to the small one just off the guest quarters. The floors were mosaic tile, dizzying in their extensive color. In front of the glass was a dais and a polished ivory throne painted with gold, though King Draunar was not seated on it. At one end of the hall, the band indeed played on immense drums and golden horns, filling the room with melodies. The table in the center of the room was full of guests, who clapped at our arrival, though the noise was almost inaudible over the music. It was so loud.

“Where’s the king?” I asked into Elias’ ear.

“He likes to make an entrance,” Elias said.

He led us to our seats at the table, seated across from each other on either side of the head of the table, where King Draunar’s polished wooden seat sat empty. Across the table, I couldn’t even speak to Elias over the din. The woman seated next to me, a beautiful, tall guest in a silvery gown whose dark hair was done in braids, directed my gaze up to the skylights above.

The skylights were all thrown open, so the evening sun and sweet air from the gardens permeated the room. Against the golden, cloud-filled sky, dragons were flying above us.

I gasped. There were so many of them, too; at least a dozen swooped and coiled around each other like they had when we’d first rolled through the palace gates. There was one that was larger than the others. His wings were immense, pale green against the yellow sky, but his scales were a rich emerald color, shot through with the occasional golden scale.