“Evander, if I restore Talwaith, I will also be restoring the dragon breeding grounds.”
“Oh,” he breathed.
“And you, my love, have dragon magic.”
“I do.”
“If we can place my sister on the Sennalaith throne, then we can call the dragons home. We can call the Talwaithans home. We can plant our own garden, and we can have the happy ending we dreamed.”
A radiant smile lit Evander’s somber face.
“You will make an excellent dragon master.”
“I believe I will.”
Dim morning light shot through a knot in the barn wall.
“We need to get up,” Evander said sadly.
“I want to stay here forever.”
“So do I, but we need to go before someone finds us in here.”
The camp outside hummed with activity as they slipped out of the tack room and into the barn. Samara approached them, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.
“The rumors are thick as sparksparrows in the barracks,” she said. “They’re saying the king means to sacrifice us at the front.”
“Not if we can return with Haldir alive.”
“Ah.” Samara cast a nervous look around the barn, then lowered her voice. “That is going to be difficult.”
The blood drained from Valenna’s face. “Why?”
“Oh,” Evander groaned. “The nonsense I have dealt with since I got here. I could go on for hours. Apparently, they want to kill Haldir.”
Valenna gasped. “But that’s idiotic!”
“Lysander was symbolic,” Samara said acidly. “And he’s turning into this gilded martyr for Cobblepine. A hero. Almost a saint.”
“What happened to Lysander?” Valenna asked, alarmed.
“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Samara’s voice tremored. “Haldir murdered him. For no reason. Just shot him through the head.”
A mess of emotions followed this revelation: shock, horror, guilt.
“Bournemuth has to survive,” Evander pleaded. “Try to convince them to wait until after the invasion.”
Samara shook her head. “I’m not convincing them of anything. Look, I know Lysander was terrible to you. I know he could be cruel and petulant, but he wasn’t always like that. He had so much responsibility on his shoulders, and the pressure weighed him down. When you sent him home, it was the worst humiliation.”
Samara wrung her hands and turned to walk away, but spun around to face them again. “The crew is angry, and if Bournemuth does anything even remotely irritating, they’ll go off like scattershot and they’ll push me to the forefront.”
“Why?” Evander demanded. “Why you?”
Samara winced. “Did you not know? Lysander and I were betrothed.”
Chapter forty-eight
Evander
