I was genuinely bewildered. Did he see through my façade and believe me to be a threat? Was he toying with me? Or were his observations real, and his advice truly intended?
There was something about that man that lacked the vapid, mindless pursuit of gossip like these others. Which meant, he was either the perfect target, or a very real threat.
I considered it for a moment, but could see no way forward except to return his challenge. “What is your game?” I asked him, letting a hint of my suspicion creep into my tone, along with warning in my gaze.
“No game—at least, not like this lot,” he said, tipping his head back towards the ballroom. “I meant what I said: I want to see you ride. I want to ride with you if I can. I find your connection with the dragons thrilling—and telling.”
I didn’t respond because I didn’t know what to say.
He took a half-step closer, looming over me in the dark. “Your General… what is the nature of yourworktogether? Did the dragons come first? Or his regard for you?”
“Does it make a difference?” I asked him frankly.
“It does if you were drawn to the man before the dragons,” he said. “It offers me insight to how tightly you are tied.”
“And why would you need to know that?”
He opened his mouth, but there was a great cackle, and a moment later, a group of half-drunk nobles spilled out ontothe balcony—the men laughing, the women shrieking—led by Donavyn, with Lady Faye on his arm.
When he found me in the dark, he practically shook off her grip and strode towards me, face tense and posture nothing short of threatening, his glare locked on Hanson.
“There you are, Brennan,” he seethed. “I wondered what had happened to you.” Then he extended a hand, snapping his fingers to beckon me.
I was half-offended, and half-swallowing laughter.
Without hesitation, I bowed my head, murmured a farewell to Hanson, thanked him for his regard and, without waiting for an answer, hurried across the balcony to take Donavyn’s hand and let him kiss my knuckles as Hanson had done when he arrived.
But this time, my eyes were full of warning.
‘He’s intrigued.’
‘Did he touch you?’
‘No. But he wants to see me ride.’
‘I’m sure he does.’
Donavyn rose out of the kiss and pulled me to his side, sending a cold glare at Hanson, before turning away without a word, and ushering me over to the side of the balcony where the others stood, regaling each other with tales of Donavyn beating one of the men at cards, to the great delight of the others.
I didn’t look at Hanson again, but I felt his eyes on me as he strode across the balcony then back into the banquet hall.
A wave of laughter rose from the women. I turned to smile when Faye nudged me with her elbow. But when she was distracted again, I looked at Donavyn.
His eyes were black in the dark, tiny pinpoints of light piercing me.
‘Donavyn?’
‘Be careful. That’s all, Bren. Please be careful.’
52. Eyes on Me
~ BREN ~
The first days in the castle of Emberholt were a blur of intense and demanding evenings that turned into very late nights, followed by mornings that passed slow as molasses in winter. At first, Donavyn and I both struggled. Accustomed to early mornings and constant activity, we’d wake with the sun even though we’d been up until the early hours. But emerging from our bedchamber only revealed wide, empty halls and servants hurrying in silence.
It seemed the noble classes of Emberholt believed mornings were for sleeping.
The morning of the third day, having slept a little later, I convinced Donavyn to take the dragons out to fly. They’d been forced to remain close to the Emberholt stables while Donavyn was stonewalled by the king.
