“He’s an ass, and we don’t adore each other, but I wouldn’t want himmurdered. With Father already passed…” Teyla blinked to clear moisture from her eyes.
“It’s hard to lose your family,” Syla said.
“Yes, you know that better than anyone.” Teyla swallowed.
“Unfortunately, I do. Well, in case it needs to be said, I didn’t order anyone killed and am not after your brother.” Syla hated that she felt the need to state that, and it was especially strange after she’d wondered ifTeylamight have been responsible for her father’s death. How unsettling to have people now wondering about her motives.
“Oh, I know you didn’t and aren’t. But, like I said, I wanted to warn you that others whodon’tknow you well are spreading rumors.”
“Thank you.”
Before long, the ship had docked and Fel waited by the gangplank with several Royal Protectors and Captain Vonla.
“Your Majesty?” Fel called, then pointed toward the dock.
Lord Oyenar waited at the bottom of the gangplank with several uniformed troops of his own as well as a senior officer Syla recognized from the war room where they’d met before the stormer invasion.
Wreylith had finished her grooming and hopped onto the wheelhouse again. Syla held up a finger and jogged over to pick up the discarded scales. Each was about the size of a teacup saucer though much thinner than a plate. They were sturdier, too, with faint magic detectable in them. Most were a faded red, almost translucent at the edges. Though they weren’t as vibrant as the new scales that must have grown in to replace them, they were still attractive with an almost iridescent quality about them. It would be a shame to toss them into the sea so Syla carried them to the gangplank.
“What are you going to do with those?” Teyla asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Syla wondered if any of her historical alchemy books had formulas for medicinal substances that called for dragon scales. She wouldn’t suggest that aloud since Wreylith might object if they were used in a salve, especially one that might have the attribute of beingslimy.
“I bet they’re strong,” Teyla said.
“They look like appetizer plates.” Fel stepped onto the gangplank to lead the way down.
“You’ve got enough for a matched dinner service set,” Teyla said.
“I’m not making plates out of dragon scales.” Syla followed Fel onto the gangplank.
“People might pay for them,” Teyla said, coming after her, with the Royal Protectors following them. “If you’re not able to get the throne back and need to find another way to make a living, you could sell them in one of the street markets.”
“One would hope ten years of experience as a healer would get me a job that doesn’t require selling my ally’s body parts.”
By then, they’d reached the dock, and Lord Oyenar must have heard the last comment because he wore the expression of a man who didn’t know what to say.
“Welcome to Castle Island, Lord Oyenar,” Syla said. “I’ve appreciated the use of the ships that you lent me for what turned into a rather indirect trip home, but I wasn’t expecting you.”
“When the ships didn’t come back, and nobody sent a report, my wife suggested I come check on things in person.”
“While wearing your old uniform?” It hadn’t occurred to Syla to send a report back to Oyenar, but maybe it should have. She would have had to send away one of the ships for that, though, and she’d been outnumbered from the beginning.
“My wife always finds me dashing in it.” Oyenar looked toward the head of the dock. Two squads of gray-uniformed enforcers were marching in their direction. “It might be more correct to say that she alwaysfoundme dashing in it. It doesn’t fit as well as it once did, and there may have been teasing when I got it out of the closet and put it on.”
“I’m sure it was good-natured ribbing and nothing more. You two seem to have a healthy, loving relationship.”
“Yes. And I ribbed her back, as is appropriate.”
The enforcers marched straight toward Syla, and she couldn’t hold back a grimace, well aware that the last enforcers she’d encountered had tried to capture her. She almost hid her moon-marked hand behind her back as they approached, but it wasn’t as if they didn’t know all about her—and her hand. She had allies with her, but… maybe it had been a mistake to return directly to the harbor.
Fel shifted to stand in front of Syla, his hand dropping to his mace. Lord Oyenar also stepped forward to force the squads to halt.
“Are you here to escort Queen Syla and myself to speak with Lord Fograth?” he asked.
“We are here toarrestQu— the moon-marked lady.”
Goodness, Syla had been demoted all the way down tothe moon-marked lady? Maybe she should have risked coming to the capital sooner.
