Zev held her back, searching her eyes in alarm. There was a question on their faces as to why she was unharmed if she’d seen Von. Her thoughts were in too much of a disarray to explain Klyde’s appearance. She didn’t know who the captain was or why he had helped her.
“I found her and the princess at the pier,” the corporal announced as he closed the door behind him.
“Princess,” Commissioner Moreland said, visibly relieved to see the fairy. She flew to him and landed on the open palm he held out to her. “You look awful.”
“Is that any way to speak to a lady?” Keena quipped, giving him a tired smile. “Do you perhaps you have any nectar?”
“Yes, of course. Your guardsmen provided it in case we found you first.” He reached into a small wooden box on his desk and pulled out a tiny barrel. He set it down on a tome and the fairy princess flew down. Keena popped open the lid and scooped out a golden dewdrop. She slurped it hungrily, reaching for more. The burns on her limbs were glaring under the sunlight streaming in through the window.
“Draven held the princess captive,” Kye reported. “In an iron cage.”
Commissioner Moreland’s mouth forged into a thin, hard line. “Have him and his company detained immediately.”
“Yes, sir. I have already sent word to her guardsmen. They should be here shortly.”
“Thank you, Corporal.”
Kye saluted, then exited the room.
The silence left behind drew Dyna to meet the stares of her friends. Lowering her head, she confessed what she’d done on Draven’s ship and that Cassiel traded himself as payment. She didn’t mention that he revealed his secret to the poacher, but she could tell by their startled expressions they knew what this meant.
“Your little righteous foray was rather foolish,” the commissioner said.
“No, it was brave,” Keena countered. Gone was the gray hue to her complexion. She shimmered with a golden light exuding from her wings, strength returning to her features, and the burns had almost healed now. The nectar must have been what she needed to recover. The scent of a wildflower meadow wafted through the office as the fairy flew to them. “Dyna saved me. I might have died on that ship if it wasn’t for her.”
Rawn bowed his head. “It is a pleasure to meet again, Princess Keena. I am sorry to hear what befell you.”
“And you, Lord Norrlen. Thank you, but I’m afraid we must skip the pleasantries in favor of other dire matters,” the fairy said, giving him a meaningful look.
“Yes.” Rawn moved to stand before the Commissioner. “Release us at once. Our companion is in danger.”
Commissioner Moreland frowned. “Hardly. He will be fine. Once the guards have detained Draven, Corporal Willam will escort your companion here.” He linked his hands on his desk, waiting until their responding protests quieted. “It seems I may have failed to convey the situation in which you find yourselves, so let me tell you. Lord Norrlen, you and your company have beenarrested.”
“On false charges,” Lucenna snapped.
Zev growled in agreement. “We have no part in Tarn’s illicit activities.”
The commissioner’s dull expression didn’t change. “Withholding the truth is considered perjury.”
Rawn exhaled a sharp breath. “We speak the truth, sir. The charges are afarce. He is no acquaintance of ours.”
“Be that as it may, I must hold you. Tarn Morken has placed a bounty on each of your heads.”
“And for that, we’re considered his accomplices?” Dyna asked.
“Unfortunately, your association marks you as leads to his whereabouts,” Commissioner Moreland said. “He has avoided execution for the last fifteen years, so forgive me, but we’re going to implement this opportunity to capture him.”
“You said he committed crimes against the crown,” Rawn said, a question in his tone.
“Tarn murdered Rubin Afton, the Duke of Zircon—cousin to King Lenneus. He entered the duke’s castle in the late hour, killed him in his bed, and emptied the coffers. By some mercy, Tarn didn’t harm the servants. He told them his name and showed them his face.”
“Thievery was not the primary intention,” Rawn said, studying the commissioner’s face. “He wanted it to be known he was responsible for Lord Afton’s death. I assume you know the motive.”
The commissioner leaned back in his chair, and Dyna followed his line of sight to the wall covered in wanted posters. Separated from the others was one for Tarn Morken. She recognized the striking face, with a long scar running from his left brow, over his nose to the right side of his chin. His cold, piercing eyes stared back at her.
“Tarn’s mother was quite beautiful, I hear,” the commissioner said. “With hair like a river of gold silk, and eyes the pale blue before dawn. Her countenance was revered in all of Azure, but none coveted her more than Lord Afton. He claimed to have bedded her the night before she wed Thorne Morken, the Earl of Old Tanzanite Keep.”
Tarn was from Old Tanzanite Keep? Dyna went rigid at the puzzle forming in her head. Goosebumps crawled over her skill when Klyde’s face swam in her thoughts. The captain was also from the north. He was connected to all of this—connected to Tarn.
