Her mind, traitorous in its honesty, produced an image of the wyvern bone powder sitting on her nightstand for a year. When Evander didn’t reply, she snuck a glance at him. He wasn’t smiling—he rarely smiled—but the corner of his mouth was tight, like he was trying not to smile. He knew her well enough to see through her lies.
“You weren’t supposed to come until tomorrow.”
She cleared her throat. “When I heard about the dragon master’s death, I wondered if perhaps … if you …”
Evander’s eyes twinkled. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t.”
This conversation was rapidly slipping off-script.
Lifting his cap, Evander ran his hands through his hair. “I wasn’t there when Reggie, the dragon master, was killed. If I had been, I think I might have prevented it, but I wasn’t. I was too busy with the Cobblepine trainees they send me. They’ll be gone in a week, and I can breathe again.”
She frowned.There it was again—a hard edge he didn’t have in Largotia. He’d changed, and it broke her heart.
“Is this position why you left?” she asked. “So you could train reluctant children how to ride a dreadnought?”
“I thought," he said with a groan, "I’d be training dreadnoughts how to be ridden by warriors, but the other trainer isn’t good with people, so here I am, for my sins.”
She snorted. “And you are good with people?”
This time, he smiled, but it was a wry smile. Fatalistic.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this position?” she asked.
“I thought …” his voice trailed off, ending in a sigh. “It was the best thing for both of us.”
She wanted to demand why, but she could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t about to confess, so she changed the subject. “After I pick the dragon master, I’m returning to Largotia, so we won’t need to see each other again.”
This was a lie. After she picked the dragon master, she was going to burn everything that reminded her of Evander and go find Olivette. Undistracted.
Evander nodded, beckoning her to follow as he walked into the dragon barn. As they entered, he shed the stiffness in his shoulders like an ill-fitting jacket. His tone shifted, and suddenly they were talking like they were casual acquaintances, not fraught former lovers. Valenna knew she’d indicated that this was what she wanted, so the sting of it surprised her.
“So, only twenty-four summers old, and already the master dracologist’s emissary,” Evander remarked. “Very impressive.”
“Thank you,” Valenna said. “It was unexpected, but gratifying to see my hard work rewarded.”
He darted a shrewd look at her. “And they must have overlooked several prominent candidates to promote you.”
Valenna bristled. “The master dracologist told me he couldn't spare me, but I insisted."
"Why?"
"Not because I wanted to see you, that's certain."
"Oh, I never would have presumed that."
"I'm here because I’m organized and clever and very well read. My work is exemplary, the dragons like me, and I already know more about training than most trainers will know in their lifetime and, unlike some, I’m not a sullen, secretive, son of a …”
“Yes, I know,” Evander interrupted. "You always were all of those things. And much too good for me." His quiet cut through her tirade like a knife.She fell silent, collecting herself. When she did speak, her tone was cold, laced with ire.
“And I’m sure you’re heartbroken over the dragon master’s death since it leaves you poised to take his place."
Evander arched a brow. “I won’t lie to you, I’m ambitious. You know I’ve always wanted to be dragon master, and here I am.” He studied her, and she noticed with a twist in her chest that his pupils were uneven.
“You aren’t taking your potion anymore, are you?”
He ignored the question. “Again, I hope our history doesn’t prejudice you against me.”
