Page 55 of Wings of Ice and Steel

‘Yes. You will.’

Councillor Leth’s pointed frame stepped out of the marquee, where he had been overseeing their training.

Shit.

He sneered, his voice dry and emotionless. ‘You will do as we command. If we tell you to fight in a group, you will. If we tell you to charge into the mouth of a canon, you will. If we tell you to couple with a male, you will do that too. You belong to the Guild.’ His gaze flicked to Nieve, then Melixanthe, arched brows drawing together in a frown. ‘You, Ariadnne, need reminding of who and what you are. And who you belong to.’

Ariadnne’s mouth dropped. It was one thing to know she was Guild property, to do with as they willed. But to hear it so bluntly? And with such venom? The shock stole her breath. She’d never willingly couple with a varan…

Melixanthe closed her eyes, lips tight and afraid, while Nieve’s usually pale features turned a glacial white. Ariadnne’s fists clenched, her dragon rising—

She was saved as Melixanthe strained, heaving herself to her feet. Ariadnne darted to her side, instantly worried.

‘I expect we will need a thorough debrief after today.’ Melixanthe said through gritted teeth, distracting Leth for Ariadnne’s benefit.

Flightmaster Ronin, who had drifted closer—the nosy bastard—made an affirmative sound.

‘Absolutely. The varanyen need to cool off, anyway.’ He gave Ariadnne a sideways look. ‘I can already think of a few ways we could improve on their performance next time.’

Ariadnne fumed further at his comment, her dragon giving her skin a pearlescent shimmer.

Oblivious to his impending demise, the Flightmaster continued, ‘Let’s gather in my offices. We can get you a seat, Melixanthe, after your injury.’

Melixanthe nodded. ‘Let me take my ward back to her wing and I’ll be there shortly.’ She turned, wobbling slightly as she took Ariadnne by the arm until Nieve stepped forward, saluting with a fist to her chest.

‘General,’ she started. ‘Allow me to escort Ariadnne. To give you a chance to recover.’

The offer put Melixanthe on the spot. The General could hardly refuse such a sensible request in front of her superiors when she was wounded. Not without it appearing suspicious, no matter how much she wanted to limit their contact.

‘That’s very… kind of you.’ Melixanthe tried to smile graciously but it came out as a grimace of pain. Nieve bowed and turned to Ariadnne.

‘It’s this way…’ She turned towards the stone archway and Ariadnne caught the flicker of a frown before she was marching across the sand.

Twenty-six

Ariadnne

Nieve led her through the corridors, down passages older, less grand, and much quieter than the ones she’d walked earlier. If Ariadnne wasn’t mistaken, these were the servant’s passages.

Eventually, when they were far from prying eyes, Nieve took her hand—leading her into a dimly-lit corridor, the contours of her face lit by flicking faelights.

‘I hope you don’t mind if we take the less scenic route,’ she said quietly. ‘These passages are rarely used, and I’d like the chance to talk without everyone listening. It feels like there might be… unresolved tension between us.’

Ariadnne’s pulse thudded in her neck, still racing after the adrenaline of Melixanthe’s attack. Leth’s threats.

Her grip on Nieve’s hand tightened.

‘I’m sorry.’

Nieve shot her a look that was hard to interpret, and Ariadnne’s guilt deepened.

‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I didn’t mean to, I was… I’m sorry.’

Nieve’s hand stiffened in hers before pulling away, leaving Ariadnne’s palm empty.

‘It’s okay.’ Nieve shrugged. ‘I get it—you were scared for Melixanthe.’

‘Yes, but…’