But when Valenna reached the table where Thomasina awaited her, Haldir wasn’t there. They passed a few awkward minutes in polite conversation, Valenna willing her attention to stop drifting over the festival grounds, trying to spot Evander as he returned from the barn.
Evander materialized out of the crowd like a ghost in a stage play. He, too, was dressed for revenge, in a shirt that brought out the color of his eyes and a waistcoat that accentuated his broad shoulders and slim waist. He’d rolled his sleeves, the devil, and he was still wearing his glasses. The glasses were the cruelest touch—she’d never been able to resist him when he wore them.
He moved with such grace and control, it was as though he’d been taught to carry his lean body specifically to inflict agony on Valenna.
As they ate, Valenna kept darting glances across the table at him. Twice, she caught him looking back, and her cheeks warmed.
It was agony. All his little movements and personal quirks returned to her, familiar again after their long time apart, and filled her like a cup overflowing with warm tea. But she could tell from the slight squint and the pucker between his brows that he had one of his headaches, and the urge to jump up and fix it was suffocating. In Largotia, she would have given him his wyvern bone powder, pressed a cool cloth against his head, and made him lie down. Now, she could only watch helplessly as he suffered in silence.
Why didn’t she go after him when he left? Maybe if she’d chased him, he would have changed his mind. Maybe they’d be married by now, living in Largotia together instead of stealing looks at one another across a table.
No,Valenna scolded herself.Evander is a distraction. Olivette is the goal.
Valenna caught Thomasina frowning at her and realized she’d been staring too hard at Evander.
“And where is Haldir?” she asked, clearing her throat and trying to act natural, but she couldn’t remember how a normal, not completely love-sick person acted.
“Doing something clever with the dragons, I assume,” Evander replied dryly.
“Surely Miss Castanaia has questions for you, too, Evander,” Thomasina said.
Right, she wasn’t supposed to know every single thing about him. As far as anyone knew, she met him that morning.
“Mr. Trevelyan …” she began.
“Yes, Miss Castanaia,” he interrupted with a roguish smile that made her stomach flip.
Valenna continued, forcing a frown. “What is the first thing you would do if you were made dragon master?”
Evander leaned back in his chair and smoothed a crease in the tablecloth. “I have many plans.”
“I’m sure you do. What are they?”
“I would direct funding toward better equipment for our keepers,” he began.
Valenna nodded. It was a disappointingly safe answer.
A brief pause followed as Evander took a roll and buttered it. She knew him, and he was holding something back. Suddenly, he removed his glasses, pushed his plate away, and crossed his arms on the table. “But that is not the first thing I would do.”
Thomasina groaned. Curious, Valenna raised her eyebrows.
“The first thing I would do is cut sales to Ashkendor.”
Valenna laughed. “You’re not serious?”
“I am. And that’s not the end of it. I would stop the sale of breeding females, and then I would refocus our training program toward breeding and revitalization of the dragon species.”
“The queen regent will love that,” Valenna scoffed. “Allegesh’s primary export is trained dragons. The food on this table was put here by the dragon trade. Your salary, Mr. Trevelyan, is paid by the dragon trade. This whole dracorium is funded by the dragon trade. You want to disrupt that?”
Evander leaned back. “And this food, my salary, this dracorium—all paid for in blood.”
“That’s very noble of you …”
“It’s more than noble,” Evander said, one finger tapping the rim of his cup, his other hand resting on his leg. “The trade is unsustainable. Wyverns are extinct now—did you know that?”
There was the old Evander she knew—quiet, measured, simmering with repressed passion.
He continued. “Did you know that there are only a handful of dragons left in the wild? They used to breed in Talwaith, but now that it’s arid, they’ve lost their habitat and will only breed in Cobblepine. And Cobblepine can’t provide enough viable young to feed the war. If we keep this up another five years, there won’t be any dragons left to train or sell.”
