Aydra squeezed her hands. “No. No, I couldn’t. Nyssa, the things I’ve been made to go through for this kingdom… I dare not see you go through the same. A new war will be upon us by the time you are crowned. I need you to be the fearless woman you will be in facing the new enemy on our shores.”
Nyssa swallowed hard, and she sighed heavily. Aydra watched her bewildered expression as it softened, and then Nyssa gave her a small smile.
“What?” Aydra asked upon seeing her eyes light up.
“He’s the reason you were so happy those few weeks,” Nyssa noted. “I mean, you’ve always been you, but… this was different. You were glowing. And I’ve never seen you blush in my life. I didn’t know your cheeks knew to redden.”
Aydra chuckled under her breath, and she sighed heavily, staring at their entwined hands. “It’s certainly a new sensation,” she admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was him?” Nyssa asked of her.
Aydra’s head tilted with the smile she gave her sister. “I didn’t think you would understand. And because I wasn’t sure there was anything to tell. We’d just fought, he’d left in anger…”
“What about the stories? What the Chronicles say about his kind?” Nyssa asked.
“Lies,” Aydra affirmed. “Draven is different. He is not like the kings of his past.”
The smile on Nyssa’s face grew, and Aydra watched as amusement rose in her eyes. “And the other stories? Are those as much lies as these?” she asked with a coy raised brow.
Aydra’s eyes widened. “Nyssari Eaglefyre!” She laughed and wrapped her arm around Nyssa’s shoulders. “I’m not sure what you’ve done with my little sister, but I like the direction this is going.” She kissed her cheek hard and sighed. “What do you say we raid the kitchens and I’ll tell you the truth of those stories?”
Nyssa grinned. “I’d like that.”
“I take it you made up with her,” Balandria said when Draven joined her on the balcony outside the room he always stayed in.
Draven sighed as he allowed his forearms rest against the stone banister. “I did.”
Balandria’s eyes danced over his figure. “You truly love her, don’t you?”
Draven couldn’t help the small quirk of a smile his lips twisted into at the question. “I do,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I know. It’s… odd.”
Her eyebrows raised and she nodded. “That’s one word to describe it. What about the plan?”
Draven paused and looked out at the ocean waves. “Parkyr’s plans didn’t include my falling in love with the Queen,” he admitted.
“You would abandon his plans for love?”
He sighed and gave her a once over. “Rhaif will still get what’s coming to him, but it won’t be by Parkyr’s plan to take over his kingdom any longer. Things have changed. What matters now is keeping those ships at bay.”
“Those ships have not condemned our people for over a century.”
“And what do I keep saying about our reigns?” he snapped.
Balandria’s weight shifted, and for a moment she looked as though she would argue, but then her fists relaxed and she exhaled a long breath. “That we are to be better.”
“We don’t have to be our predecessors, Bal. We don’t have to continue this cycle of manipulation and revenge on those who have staked us for being who we are. We can choose to be more than what his followers wanted—”
“None of these people see us for the persons you want us to be,” Balandria argued.
His eyes narrowed at her. “Is battle what you want? To start a war with these people while strangers come on our shores?” he asked her. He stalled again, pushing his hair off his face. “Do you remember what I told you about there not being any more Infinari children?”
“About Duarb knowing something is coming?”
He nodded. “Arbina has missed her own traditional cycle,” he informed her. “Something is coming. Something big.”
“What are you saying?” Balandria asked.
His weight shifted, and he took something out from beneath his gambeson. The emerald and black streaked rock of the Venari King, enveloped in thin golden wire, hung on a leather chain. “I have a feeling my time on this land is coming to a close.”
