I knew Draw’s tent was one row over from the queen’s. I could tell when I came to it because our picnic bag sat outside the canvas door. When I ducked inside, it smelled of ink and parchment. Of Draw, in short. I took a deep breath. The scent calmed me a little, my heart still beating fast. His blankets were neatly folded, also on a straw mat on the ground—there had to be a mattress somewhere in this camp—and a sitting desk to one side was littered with quills and books.
I paced for a moment before taking up one of the utensils and uncorking the ink. With the state I was in, I had to do something productive.
Sorrel was right about one thing in her letter. It was up to me.
What else do I need to change?
Meg + man
Issa – bring to forefront, POV chapters
Queen Elthra + Ironclaw (but does he deserve her!?)
After his outburst, I was less inclined to help him repair his relationship.
Maybe that headstrongness was what drew them together though. Both the queen and Ironclaw were judicious-minded and quick to anger. Passionate, Sherry Whitehorse would have said. The question was whether they were as quick to cool and forgive. If not, that would be a real wedge in their relationship.
I continued jotting notes.
Show more Amelia
Jerrald’s wish for Omar to learn to control his magic
Ariana – offended? Repairable?
Save Draw
Sorrel wanted more romance, but when it came down to it, my number one need one-upped hers. I had to keep Draw out of the Dark Mage’s hands. And to do that, I needed to find a way to control Ironclaw. Today was another false start on that road. My book crush had been snuffed out horribly and pretending I was ensnared by Ironclaw in hopes of directing his movements had only resulted in an ugly confrontation. Which brought me back to Ironclaw and Queen Elthra.
Ironclaw wouldn’t go against her direct orders. I’d seen little of the queen on the road save the Sage Ravine magic show. Honestly, she scared me. Any day I could keep out of her way was a successful one in my book.
But she was a main character. This was her war campaign. Draw was her court solicitor.
Maybe saving Draw was easier than I thought. I just needed to engender myself to the scariest woman in Landsome.
The tent flaps ruffled.
“Dottie,” Draw said.
I looked up, surprised, and hastily folded my paper. It was his tent and I was fully expecting him, but I hadn’t meant to write about his mortal peril.
“Are you all right?” he asked, kneeling in front of me and running his hands over my hair as if to reassure himself I wasn’t injured or crying.
“Yes, what happened?” I lightly folded the scribbled notes in half, the ink too wet.
Draw sat and waved his hand as if the shouting match of minutes ago was forgotten. “He gets like that. I’m sorry his ire came upon you.”
“Well...” I hesitated, “it was my fault.”
Draw shook his head as if even something utterly my fault shouldn’t worry me. “It was an unfortunate mix-up. You shouldn’t suffer from his jealousy.” Draw saw my surprise and smiled. “Ironclaw usually gets what he wants. Perhaps it wasn’t until he couldn’t have you that he realized he did, in fact, have an interest in you. As if anyone could not.”
Despite the situation, I liked the way Draw said that.
“Has he yelled at you that way before?”
Draw shrugged and took one of my hands in his. “He’s never liked me,” Draw murmured. “I don’t let it bother me anymore.”
“The books always made it sound like the two of you were partners. He often needed your help solving a mystery or drafting agreements between warring clans.”
