Luka held his gaze as he asked, “What about the guards on the battlements? Surely they saw something?”
Ryland grimaced. “Nothing. One of the older guards swears he saw a black cloud that could have been a drake, but….”
Luka held in the relief that wanted to leak onto his face. “A black cloud is hardly evidence.”
“Exactly, and he only realized it could have been a dragonafterthe archthane started asking the question.” Ryland scratched his cheek with his thumb. “Something feels off. Why were the Kwanam guards checking on the lady-in-waiting anyway? What did they know? And how does any of this implicate the prince, like the rumors are suggesting?” Ryland frowned. “It seems to me that everyone is jumping to conclusions… and all just in time to disrupt tomorrow’s treaty signing.”
“Convenient,” Luka muttered.
Yes, but for whom?
Ryland stepped back with a grimace. “I don’t envy you, sir.”
Luka grunted his agreement. “Thank you, Captain. Please select your two most loyal guards to go back to Narya’s room and make sure no one gets in until we have a chance to look it over. I’d like you to oversee checking with all the castle staff—not only guards—to find out everything Narya did last night. Messengers, cleaners… someone might have seen something. Concentrate on whoever found the body, we need to know everything they know.”
“Yes, sir.” Ryland saluted smartly before dipping his chin toward Izzy and striding from the anteroom.
The remaining guards waved them toward the reception room, and Luka waited for Izzy to take a breath before knocking. He wished he hadn’t dropped her hand. Now he couldn’t take it back, and he missed it, which was madness.
Or maybe, for the first time, you’re actually making sense.
The doors opened, admitting them to the queen’s opulent receiving room and cutting off any debate with his beast. Theroom was even more luxurious than Shane’s office. An ornate fireplace held a large blaze that added warmth and light to the array of lamps and beeswax candles spread around the room. The rugs were thick enough to sink into, and the silk hangings on the walls shimmered in the flickering light. A massive desk was set beneath the window—currently swathed in thick drapes to block out the night—with two further desks for secretaries set closer to a wall of towering bookcases. Nearby, silk cushions in shades of bronze and honey covered a set of ornately carved, dark-stained mhoba wood couches.
The queen stood beside her desk, wearing a formal midnight blue gown without any jewels or ornamentation. Her rose-gold hair was tied in a soft bun that suggested she’d dressed for speed rather than glamor. Although her posture was as regal as always and her expression was calm and neutral, garnet scales formed a solid band of armor at her throat. Two guards stood at attention on either side of her. Prince Shane and Princess Iona sat stiffly on the couches, wearing elegant court robes and matching expressions of outrage, while Cori, Aiden, and Kai lined the wall behind them.
Melo, the queen’s personal healer and the physik general for the castle, stood behind the couches, close to the queen. Her back was ramrod straight, and she wore a formfitting, heavily embroidered, burgundy tunic that brought out the gold in her short blonde hair. Senior Healer Sarwin stood at her side, his thick brown hair tousled and fine lines of stress bracketing his eyes.
Directly in front of the queen, Archthane Batlok crossed his arms over his large belly, glowering belligerently. Kwanam Brigadier General Declan—the man they’d heard in Narya’s room—guarded his side, and two more soldiers stood warily at his back. The room was overcrowded and the air thrummed with tension.
Queen Danikha waved Luka and Izzy inside and introduced them formally.
Luka strode forward and bowed politely, brain churning, trying to predict anything he might be asked. It was too late to sacrifice himself. Izzy had told the world she was with him, and she would be blamed alongside him. Now, his best hope was to find the murderer as quickly as possible. “My sincere condolences, Archthane Batlok,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I was so sorry to hear about the loss of one of your party.”
“Are you the man responsible?” Batlok demanded.
Luka blinked. “Responsible, sir?”
“Are you not the commander of the guard?”
Luka bowed. “Yes, sir, I am the knight commander. And we?—”
“Who is this?” Batlok turned to Izzy, his eyes hard. “Is she also a commander of the guard?” he asked with a pointed sneer. Batlok was well known for his belief that women should never be allowed anywhere near military command.
“She’s—” Luka choked. What was she? How could he possibly explain?
Izabel stepped forward and gave another deep bow. “I’m a physik, Your Eminence. I know the castle and its people well. I was a physik here for a number of years, following on from my father before me, and I was also a military healer, a lieutenant.” She dipped her chin toward Melo. “Physik General Melo was in command of my unit.”
“Mistress Izabel was briefly under my command,” Melo agreed coldly.
“Why is she here?” Batlok demanded, ignoring Melo—and the scales that spread over her throat—completely.
Queen Danikha’s nostrils flared, a minute giveaway to her rising anger, but Izzy bowed and answered respectfully. “I waswith Commander Luka when we heard the terrible news, Your Eminence. I immediately thought to offer my skills and to help in whatever way I can.”
“You were with this man?” the archthane demanded.
Pink colored Izzy’s cheeks, and a flurry of sapphire scales hardened over her throat, but she didn’t back down. “Yes, Your Eminence.”
Batlok’s eyes narrowed. “I was told that he is a dragon.”
