“My advisors have concerns,” he said, diplomatic even now. “But I’ve made my decision clear. We’ll cooperate, not escalate.”
“Will they honor that?” Raoul asked quietly.
“They will.” Trevare’s jaw set. “Or they’ll find themselves with significantly less influence in my court.”
The threat hung in the air, and I felt a surge of respect for this young king. He’d been thrust into leadership and was trying to navigate impossible politics while babies suffered.
“Thank you for trusting us and choosing peace,” I said.
Trevare’s expression softened. “Just find the answer, Queen Adele. Quickly.”
He handed me a cloth bag, heavy with food and a flask of drink. “For your journey. I’m sorry if my court made you feel unwelcome. That wasn’t my intention.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I said. “You’re doing exactly what a good king should. Protecting your people while staying open to help.”
Trevare stepped back as Raoul shifted, the transformation now so familiar I could track every stage. The expansion of his frame, the emergence of wings, the gorgeous scales that caught the morning light.
I climbed onto his back, hooking our bags and our food onto one of his spine spikes.
“Let’s go,” I whispered.
Raoul launched skyward, his powerful wings beating in the thin mountain air. Below, Goldwing’s golden walls gleamed, growing smaller with each stroke. I looked back once and saw Trevare still standing in the courtyard, watching us go.
That’s a lot of weight on his shoulders,I said.
He’s doing well. Better than I did my first year.Raoul banked, catching a thermal current that lifted us higher.He’s willing to make hard choices even when his advisors push back.
Like letting a witch poke around in his court?
Exactly.Amusement came through in his voice.Though I’d argue you do more than poke. You investigate with extreme thoroughness.
Is that a complaint?
It’s admiration.
Warmth bloomed in my chest, and I leaned forward across his neck, letting the wind tear through my already messy hair. The land spread below us in a patchwork of stone and forest, valleys and peaks, so wild and gloriously beautiful compared to the broad plains where I’d grown up.
We flew for a while, the rhythmic beat of his wings like a heartbeat. I pulled out my notebook, trying to review my notes despite the wind, but the words kept blurring together.
Something nagged at my mind. Not quite a memory, more like the ghost of one. Something I’d read once, somewhere in Emberforge’s archives.
I kept thinking about alpine geography. Or was it atmospheric patterns? The timing of seasonal changes?
I couldn’t grasp it. Every time I reached for the memory, it slipped away.
You’re tense.Raoul said.
I’m trying to remember something.I flipped through my notes again.I read something in the archives at Emberforge. I keep going back to peaks or the geography or… I don’t know. I can’t quite recall what it might be.
Then we’ll return to the archives.
The thought of more delays while babies suffered and tensions escalated made my stomach clench. But what if that half-remembered text held the key?
If you think it’s important, it probably is.
The trust in his voice made my throat tighten.Or I’m just desperate and seeing patterns where none exist.
The sun climbed higher as we flew, and my exhaustion from another night of fitful sleep started catching up with me. I’d managed to stay awake for a bit before giving up and dozing, dreaming of plants and rocks and high elevations.
