Page 226 of Burn Her They Said
“You think his spies reporting your Lead Guard for staring at you will make the Emperor do anything worse?” He raises his brows for emphasis. “I happen to appreciate the fact that my role requires I look at you.” His mouth tips up in a smirk. “Constantly.”
“Not in the way you’ve looked at me today. Not after he commanded you to remain one hundred paces away. That and the way he demanded to know whether or not I had slept with the Prince leads me to believe he would not be happy with how closely you and I are walking.”
“You think he expects me to walk so far behind you I cannot see to keep you safe in these dark and narrow passages? He is a force sorcerer. He knows I have to be able to imagine where I project my shield if I cannot see the target well enough. He could have commanded me to stay farther away before we followed him into the Dungeons if he wanted to negate my role by doing so.” He studies me before adding, “Or do you truly believe he would punish me more were he to learn I complimented your appearance after he specifically commissioned your wardrobe to entrance all those who gaze upon you?”
I clamp my jaw shut and refuse to answer, since we are clearly incapable of preventing any sort of mutual flirtation from occurring when speaking on this topic. Regardless, I scan the faces around us and pull in a breath when each seems to be focusing on taking their next step.
Varic maintains his position by my side as we cross the landing toward the Stairway to the Stars. A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth when he holds his arm out to catch me when we reach the top stair and prepare to descend. Silence envelops us as I study the reliefs and he does the same with me, only ever briefly turning to look where we are going.
We reach the bottom without incident, then take the short walkway to the secret entrance where the sunlight is dimmed by the thick cloud cover.
Excitement and anticipation stir in my chest as we move toward the dens, where even Malin wears the hint of a smile at the promise of spending time with his blood-bonded Dragon. Then my stomach twists the moment his expression falls, with his brows meeting in the middle. He nods to Imperial Marshall Bradick, who strides toward the Emperor with a sense of urgency, which cannot mean anything positive.
We come to a halt when His Majesty jaunts past us, walking at a much faster clip than usual. He takes Wyrth’s arm in hand and drags him off to the side. Both sets of Guards form a circle around them as Imperial Steward Garth makes his way through to engage in a heated discussion.
Lars turns to Varic. “That can’t be good.”
“Agreed. Can you hear anything they’re saying?” Varic tilts his head to stare over at the Emperor as Lars closes his eyes—an action he dare not do anywhere he could be caught for using his heightened sense of hearing.
“They said, ‘forest’, ‘patrol’, and ‘missing’. But not all in the same sentence.”
“Well, if those words weren’t in the same sentence or in that order—” Varic begins.
“That is the order I heard them in,” Lars corrects.
Varic’s eyes dart around while his hand rises to swipe through his hair. “I was just going to say, hearing those words in that order?—"
“Seems ominous,” Malin says, while Lars nods in agreement.
“Stop making excuses and find out,” Emperor Aldritch commands, sweeping his gaze over me as he returns to the front of the procession.
Wyrth strides past with a grave expression as my Guards and I begin to march behind the Emperor.
I startle when the coarse warmth of Varic’s hand brushes over my own, imparting a modicum of comfort which I cannot take the risk of reveling in. He lowers his gaze to my hand as I clasp it within the other, and I pull my lower lip in to gnaw on it like the guilt roiling in my stomach.
Every member of the audience bows the moment the Emperor approaches, though he pays them no attention as he strides toward the stage. Our banners wave from all four corners, with each golden signet on display to represent our Empire, the Emperor, myself, and Wyrth—while those hanging from the back are for each of my Anomalous Guards.
My protectors all respectfully nod to those who will watch over me in their absence before we each take the stage and turn to face the Dragon dens.
Imperial Dragon Master Sonya demands our attention by slamming the end of her tall wooden staff to the ground before stalking in front of the line of soldiers and their assigned witches securing the edge of the forest.
A gust of wind lifts the end of her braid, carrying her deep gray hair in the air along with several stray tendrils framing her long face. The very same wind ripples the fabric of her black cape with gold-embroidered dragon scales adorning the shoulders of her otherwise plain Imperial black dress. Her deep gray eyes find mine as she nods in a modified bow—a rare exception afforded due to her age and title. She drives the end of her staff into the dry earth as she comes to a stop and faces the dens, conjuring pounding footsteps from one of the taller cave openings.
I stifle a laugh when every one of us takes a step back—as if the Dragon might crush us where we stand.
His Majesty turns to me. “You must be grateful for a day spent outdoors.”
“Indeed—”
“Good,” he interrupts, turning to stare over at his enormous red Dragon, Kresmea.
Warmth rises along my skin before the Emperor grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me toward him. “You will prove your gratitude after behaving far too entitled lately. I will not tolerate this level of insolence from you going forward.”
Varic’s shield pulses over me as I swallow and say, “Yes, Your Majesty.” I bow when he releases his grip and storms off the stage and onto the field, where Kresmea’s deep red eyes stare back at me, as if in warning.
I flick my gaze away, shaking with unease from this Dragon’s knack at unsettling me when a familiar heat spreads from my chest, stalling my breath under Varic’s ardent attention. His expression reads far stormier than usual after witnessing His Majesty’s treatment, and the leather over his chest tightens when he pulls in a deep breath, then holds it. Our eyes lock together, and we become entrapped in each other’s gaze until Sutrea makes her appearance.
My Guards all nod to me as they follow in the Emperor’s footsteps to go and greet their Dragons.
