The walls and floor of the rookery are the same white carved dragon stone as the rest of the keep, but Aeson’s tower is surprisingly warm and inviting thanks to the soft colorful carpets, the art adorning the walls, and the other decorative accents expertly peppered throughout. Not that I’ve spent much time in this space. I usually try to avoid it because it’s where everyone congregates during their off time, and I’m not here to make friends.
The thick door behind us shuts and rearms itself automatically. King Noctis has made quite a few updates to the security systems protecting King’s Keep since my kith and kindred were slaughtered within its walls. I can’t help but wonder how long it would take a group of very motivated dragons and sorcai to break through the armored barriers and lethal systems now in place.
I’m sure it’s not impossible. Nothing ever is. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. I have the annihilated bloodline to prove it.
My guards for the day instantly relax now that we’re secure within the walls of the rookery. They start teasing each other and discussing some kind of status update, but I ignore it and head in the direction of Aeson’s room and my temporary prison cell, aka his mating suite. But before I can make it more than a few steps away, Ogdan appears in the entryway on the west side of the tower, the side that houses the Wing’s suites. He must have gotten a notification that we’re back, because the big Burner heads right for us.
“Frills, before you can run off and hide for the night, we need to go over the plan for your Naming,” Ogdan declares, foiling my attempted escape.
“Hide? I don’t hide,” I object, despite knowing damn well that’s exactly what I was hoping to do until my delivery arrived.
“We all know you’re hiding, Biscuit. Being surrounded by this level of excellence and sex appeal can be intimidating—we get it—but fear not, we’re a friendly lot,” Herm jibes as he gestures around the room.
My scoff is chock-full of derision. “I take back my air kiss, Hermie. There’ll be no more air kisses for you.”
Herm’s arrogant amusement instantly shifts to affront. At first I think it’s because of the new nickname I just lobbed at him, but then he presses a hand protectively over the non-existent pocket where he deposited my non-existent kiss.
“You can’t do that, Biscuit,” he petulantly argues. “This is mine fair and square!”
“Maybe it’s notusshe’s hiding from, but a certain commander,” Jori sing-songs with a wag of his eyebrows as he passes me.
My face is a mask of shocked incredulity as I look over at the normally amiable and quiet Healer. “You’re supposed to be the nice one,” I remind him since he seems to have forgotten.
“Nah, that’s Karis,” Jori dismisses with a laugh while making a beeline toward one of the wall synthesizers to get a drink started. Something hot, judging by the cup with a handle that begins to print as the Healer with the ash brown hair and hazel eyes turns back to me. “Want something?” he asks.
I wave Jori off and focus on Ogdan, who’s shaking his head at all of us while moving toward the lounge area. He brushes his burgundy hair back from his face, and I notice he’s not wearing scale armor. I’ve never seen him in normal clothes before, and it throws me for some reason. He probably had the morning off—I know the Wing rotates their schedules—but I study the loose emerald green pants and short-sleeve top he’s wearing like I’ve never seen anything like it before.
Herm herds me closer to the sofas, and I perch on an ottoman directly across from Ogdan. Herm settles on the arm of a couch, and Blay leans against a wall by the west entryway. His body language is casual, just like the other two, but all of their gazes are alert and rimmed with a wariness that instantly puts me on edge.
“Have you spoken to your stylist about preparations for tomorrow?” Ogdan asks randomly.
It takes me a second to wrap my mind around the unexpected question. I examine it for a moment, looking for the trap or hidden meaning, but when I don’t immediately see anything, I answer.
“I have no way to contact her, so…no, I haven’t.”
Ogdan nods and starts tapping something into the cuff on his forearm. “I believe the scion is already taking care of the com issue. It should arrive around the same time as your delivery from the treasury. I’ll have Miss Lael reach out,” he tells me secretarially.
I nod cautiously, still unsure where Ogdan is going with this, but a small rush of relief slips through my apprehension. I work to school my features, careful not to let anything slip, but Ogdan’s unknowingly helping me, and I could really use the assist. I was going to try to slip something to Nixy tomorrow, but if she’s going to call me today, I can work with that.
I keep my breathing even and my body still despite the urge to get up and start pacing so I can work out some kind of code or way to clue Nixy in without using visuals or outright saying anything. I have no doubt whatever com they give me will be closely monitored and scrutinized. But if the com’s going to get here around the same time as the mirror, I have a few hours yet to come up with something.
“Tomorrow, Karis and Farrow will be your security team leads,” Ogdan continues, his gray eyes jumping from the screen on his forearm to me. “We’ve been making do so far, but with the security risks, we’re bringing in extra help. The Horde commanders have decided to give the current top ten ranking initiates in your Call to Arms an opportunity for some hands-on experience, meaning they will make up the remainder of your security detail for the night.”
Ogdan’s announcement has me sitting up straighter and my focus sharpening. “They’re going to assign unvetted strangers to watch over me while The Horde finds out who and what I am for the first time?” I ask, aiming for calm and collected but missing by a mile.
My hands fist the fabric of the ottoman I’m sitting on, but as soon as I realize I’m doing it, I force myself to stop.
Ogdan waves me off dismissively. “All of us were strangers not so long ago. It’ll be fine.”
Fine?
It’ll be fine?
All the ways it willnotbe fine quickly flash through my mind. Instantly I zero in on the mention of the commanders who made this decision. Was it the same ones I met at that lunch with Aeson, or was it one of the others I know about but haven’t officially met? I guess it doesn’t really matter who came up with this bullshit decision. What matters is why they’d want to give a bunch of unvetted strangers access to me at all. Suspicion burrows through me.
I open my mouth to argue that this is ridiculous, that it doesn’t make sense, but then I close it. Ogdan isn’t asking me how I feel about this plan, he’stellingme.
He doesn’t care what I think.
