“Betrothed,” Evander replied.
A bubble of warmth swelled in Valenna’s chest at the term.
Dismounting her dragon, Ariadne joined them on the pathway, then led the way along the long sloping path toward the village.
Chapter twenty-nine
Evander
“We’re mostly refugees from Talwaith here,” Ariadne said as they walked.
Valenna’s hand was warm in Evander’s, and he was almost surprised at how calming it was to have her beside him. Against all odds, they’d found one another again. Already they’d braved carnivorous plants and angry hydra and giant snakes. They would find the remedy for the dark magic eating away inside his head.
“You know it as the Scathmore Barrens,” Ariadne continued. Evander tried to listen to her, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from his radiant betrothed. “But a quarter century ago, it was a prosperous seaside kingdom. When the Botania died, we brought the dragon eggs here while our home turned into disputed land between Sennalaith and Ashkendor. It is a wasteland now. No one has seen the sunbird in years. It is said that when the sunbird sings again, it will signify the Botania’s return.” She stopped them abruptly. “People think it is the war that transformed Talwaith into a desert, but that’s not true.”
“Oh?” Valenna asked.
“No, it has always been arid. Uninhabitable even. So, every year, the Botania—blessed with spring magic—wept over the land, and the grass and leaves grew to comfort her. When she died, so did our home and the home of the dragons. They will breed here, butnot like they did in Talwaith. And, in the absence of a new botania, we have no hope of restoration.”
“Wasn’t the Botania also the queen of Talwaith?” Valenna asked. He was surprised she didn’t know more, since the last Botania had been her mother.
“There are no kings or queens of Talwaith,” Evander whispered.
But Ariadne overheard and said, with an imperious lift of her head, “We have a governing family who has passed the title from generation to generation. My family has held the position for a hundred years.”
Evander swallowed a sarcastic laugh. A monarchy was a monarchy, no matter what the rulers called themselves.
“My son was meant to rise to the position after me, but that may not …” She looked at Evander with ire, and he returned her glare levelly. “The elders require a certain prowess with dragons to inherit the title. If one does not prove one’s aptitude, then the elders may pass it on to another, more worthy, candidate.
“No riches or grandeur come with being governor,” Ariadne went on. “Governors are held in high esteem, but we must still labor at a trade and live in the village, like anyone else. Even the Botania lived in a humble manor house when we possessed Talwaith. Humility above everything.”
Evander chuffed, and Ariadne shot him a cutting look.
“And does the sunbird …” Valenna’s voice trailed off. “I don’t recall … what did it do?”
“It, too, withered and died without the Botania’s touch. It called to her, and when she spread springtime over the waste, it was renewed and sang to call the dragons home.”
“Is it real? I thought it was a myth …”
“It is the symbol of our people!” Ariadne cried, whirling around to face them.
Valenna’s cheeks flushed as her gaze settled on the forest-green flags emblazoned with white birds waving from every doorway, every cave; even Ariadne’s shirt was covered in little sunbirds.
“It’s alright,” Evander whispered in her ear. “It’s subtle.”
Valenna jabbed her elbow in his ribs.
Ariadne set a breathless pace through the village, marching down the cobblestone main street before turning into a small shop.
The warm scent of dragon leather greeted Evander as they stepped inside. The walls were lined with fine vests, belts, boots, and gloves in every shade of dragonscale, from violent red to summer sky blue to cloud gray. Ariadne sat in a sprawling armchair by a cast-iron stove and indicated two smaller chairs for Evander and Valenna.
“Explain yourself, Trevelyan,” she said. “Why did you break your oath?”
“I don’t remember saying I did,” he replied, sitting.
“Then why won’t you show me your tattoo?”
He considered his approach and opted for directness. “I did break the oath.”
