Page 144 of Winds of Ruin
His lethal expression told me I wasdefinitelya dead man should we meet alone.
Elsedora’s snort of laughter cut through the air as the nobles began mingling again and the energy in the ballroom rebounded to a joyous celebration.
She whispered something to a stunned-looking Wyeth. The madame who had gifted her that damned key earlier huddled up beside them and took Elsedora by the arm.
Before I could reach El, they’d left the ballroom together, and my chest tightened. She hadn’t even looked back.
After leading Dritan and Lark to my bedchamber, I unlocked the door, and we entered in awkward silence.
Dritan held his hand toward the fireplace, and it roared to life beneath the mantel. He’d inherited his mother’s flames.
Lark looked between the two of us with a smirk. “That went well.”
It hadn’t for me, but I wouldn’t sully for them that most of the nobles had taken the news with glee.
Dritan wrapped his arms around her shoulders and slumped into her. “Only you could think so.”
“I have to agree with him,” I sighed out.
“No fair—you two aren’t supposed to plot against me.” The Princess pouted. Lark’s cheeks flushed pink as Dritan squeezed her midsection.
My son met my gaze over her head. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Emmerick. For standing with us, for honoring what we want.”
My chest swelled to see them here together.
They were so damn young. I remembered a time when holding her mother like that in privacy had filled my heart with the same type of invincible hope.
“Of course,” I said. “I am here for the both of you—whatever you need.”
Lark leaned back into Dritan, and he broke his attention from me to smile down at her.
“I need a miracle. I am pretty certain that I won’t be leaving this castle alive,” he grumbled.
Lark huffed a laugh. “Ah, you mean my father? He’ll grow used to the idea of not killing you. That’s just a baseline impulse for him with most people. Plus, now he knows he can’t since we’re bound.”
No such luck for me.
I shifted from one foot to the other, hating that I would ruin the moment. “We have some things to discuss before anyone kills us all,” I said as I settled onto the edge of my bed. Lark pried herself from Dritan’s arms and pulled up the chair from my weapons table and a stool from the fireplace.
Once they’d sat, Lark met my gaze. “Should we get Aunt El?”
My jaw stiffened, and I shook my head. “No. She seems preoccupied tonight.”
My stomach lurched. While she should be in this bed next to me, sobering up enough to discuss our future, she was who knows where.
I should have run after her, should have stopped her.
Lark’s gaze softened. “She’s not acted like that in a long time. In truth, I’ve only heard stories about her wilder years. Did something happen?”
I sighed. To my dismay, whatever had or had not transpired between Elsedora and me needed to be tabled.
For now.
“She likely just needs to blow off some steam,” I justified, and I loathed the resentment in my tone. “That’s not what we need to discuss.”
I cleared my throat, and Dritan fished in his pocket and withdrew a golden stone before flipping it between his fingers. The inability to sit still hadn’t skipped a generation.
“I believe the Sources are conspiring against Caym from whatever in-between place they live in,” I said.
