A shudder rippled through her, but she tore her thoughts from such troubling matters and focused all her attention on her son once more. He’d ceased crying and was blinking his tiny eyelids. Her smile grew wide as she watched the little furrow on his brow, one he always seemed to get when he was looking up at her. Or whatever he could see of her. She brought her face closer and kissed his soft forehead. Breathing deep, she inhaled the sweet scent of him, and peaceful joy settled over her.
This was love. This was happiness. This was the culmination of everything she’d fought for, without even knowing it.
“You’re so good with him.” Helena’s voice stole her attention. There was a wistful note to it. Helena’s expression was soft and open, something Mareleau rarely got to see, and when Mareleau met her mother’s eyes, they were glazed with tears. “You’re better than I was with you. You’re more attentive. More involved.”
Mareleau wasn’t sure what to say to that. Helena had tried—and failed—to convince her to employ a wet nurse. She’d pressed the matter for months during Mareleau’s pregnancy, insisting it was proper for a queen, that royal women didn’t nurse their own children, and some didn’t even see their children more than once or twice a day. Mareleau had only grown angrier and angrier, and Helena had eventually given up. It was strange that Helena was now praising the actions she’d once deemed unqueenly.
“I don’t know if I’ve said it out loud,” Helena said, “but I think you’re going to be a wonderful mother. You’re already a wonderful queen and…and a wonderful daughter.”
The tenderness in her voice cracked Mareleau’s heart. It weakened her, speared her with guilt over the lies she kept. She’d been determined to have a somewhat less volatile relationship with her mother, but they still had many broken bridges to mend before they could have anything like a true mother-daughter bond. Yet her mother’s words closed some of that distance, bound some of what had been broken. Helena was taking the first step. Was it time for Mareleau to take the next? There was only one thing she could think to close her end of the chasm.
Tell the truth.
About her lie.
About her guilt in her father’s death.
About the prophecy.
It terrified her to state even a word of confession regarding any of these subjects. And yet…
She could start with one small truth, couldn’t she?
“Mother, I...”
Helena took a step closer. “Yes, dearest?”
Mareleau took a trembling breath. “I didn’t conceive during the Heart’s Hunt.”
Her mother gave her a sad smile. “I know. I can do math as well as your midwives can. You did what you had to do. I understand that now.”
Relief coursed through her. That wasn’t so bad. In fact…it was sort of good. Could she confess even more? Put her guilt to words? Tell Helena the truth about how King Verdian had died?
She took another deep breath. “When Father came here for the signing of the peace pact?—”
Her words were swallowed by a sharp sound, one that made both women jump. A shadow fell over the room, there one moment and gone the next.
“That’s the same sound,” Helena said, whirling back to the window. “What in the seven devils was that?”
Mareleau cradled Noah close to her chest and approached the window beside her mother. The sound echoed through her ears, a chilling screech she’d never heard before. It wasn’t the roar of a bear. It wasn’t even the bellowing cry of the Roizan. It was louder. Sharper. And so very wrong.
A rhythmic sound reached her ears next, a pulsing thud from overhead. It drew closer. Louder. The room seemed to shake with the beat.
Then another shadow darkened the room, and this time they saw its source.
A winged creature soared over the castle, far too large for anything that should be airborne. Far too terrifying to even exist. Its body was long and sinuous, covered in pale, opalescent scales. Its wings were comprised of white feathers. So fast it flew past, becoming a pinprick in the distance in a matter of seconds.
Mareleau swallowed hard, hoping that was the last she’d see of it.
Yet that hope was futile, for the creature drew near once more, from a speck to a distinct shape, soaring straight toward the keep. She saw its face then, a massive scaly thing framed by more white feathers, its terrifying snout trailing long whiskers. It flew by the window, and Mareleau and Helena leaped back.
Helena released a yelp of alarm. “That thing…was that a…”
Mareleau knew the word her mother was trying to find. It seared her throat as she finished for her. “A dragon.”
18
Outside the Godskeep, Cora’s stomach dropped into a hollow pit as she stared at the creature circling in the sky overhead. Chill after chill shot through her as she took in those white scales, those feathered wings. There was no doubt what this creature was.Whothis creature was.
