“You’d look quite nice in jewels though.”
He bit his lip, leaning back. “What about feathers?”
“A thousand thousand feathers,” I swore.
He kissed me again, and I slipped my hand up his bare leg, around his back, pulled him close. That was all I needed—Aderyn close. Not his blood. Not the crown or Llangard or anything else.
I just needed Aderyn, and to know that he loved me, despite all the reasons I thought he shouldn’t.
It said something about our pain, exhaustion, and fear that we had one outfit between the pair of us, were each half naked, and our bodies didn’t rouse for the moment—at least not beyond what was manageable to set aside.
I staggered to my feet and swept Aderyn into my arms. It would’ve been easier to carry him at distance on my back again, but, at least for a little while, I needed to see him.
We didn’t make it very far like that, before my arms started to shake and we had to adjust, and even afterward, my limbs cramped and my stomach turned. I’d have thought my magic had done some irreparable damage if the feeling weren’t so familiar, but I’d meant what I said. I wouldn’t take blood from Aderyn, not ever, and if that meant I’d never drink it again, I’d have to manage despite the pain.
We went until we saw a farmhouse in the distance, a woven fence around a small garden just outside the cottage.
When we were close, a head popped up, and a woman in a rough-spun dress turned our way. Her hair was gray, her hands knobbed and covered in dirt.
Aderyn slipped off my back, and I leaned hard against the fence to stay upright.
“Excuse me, madam.” I twisted my signet off my swollen finger. I clutched it tight and held it out to her. “We require assistance. I’m Roland Cavendish?—”
I’d hardly gotten my name out before she dropped to her knees and ducked her head. “My king.”
I shook my head. That didn’t matter. If we didn’t make it back to the Spires, I’d be no king at all.
“Please—” I bent over the fence to help her up again, but the sudden movement, the way my head swam, I swayed and nearly stumbled over.
Aderyn caught me, tugging on my arm. “He needs to sit down,” he insisted. “May we come inside?”
“Of course,” she waved us feverishly into the garden and toward her cottage. “This way. Come along.”
26
ADERYN
The woman whose house we had found—Carys—was a widow, and her home had not one, but two unused rooms, as she had once had a very large family.
Roland, being Roland, was all set to be offended on her behalf, that with so many children, she was alone, but she assured us that her children visited often, they had simply left and married, one by one, and now had their own families and lives.
Roland still grumbled a bit, I imagined thinking of Tris and Bet, and how he still lived with them and saw them across the breakfast table every day. Fortunately, he didn’t need to be reminded that as king, he was in a somewhat different situation than farmers.
So he explained what had happened to her. The Destovians, their kidnapping, and how I’d flown to their boat in the middle of the ocean and taken him back.
It was still odd to me, after so many years of living in Llangard among a people who had been ready to forgive dragons for their ancient feud, to have someone look at me with awe for... well, for simply being a dragon.
“You managed to find the boat with the king on it, in the whole of the ocean,” she said, her voice soft and eyes wide as she stared at me.
Truth was, I hadn’t thought all that much about that. I’d been told which direction to go, and I had gone. After that, well... I didn’t know how, in all the ocean, I had managed to find the tiny stretch of water Roland had been on. I hadn’t even thought about not being able to find him, simply known that I was going to get him, and Iwouldfind him.
I ducked my head and shrugged. “I had to. He’s... he’s Roland.”
Roland himself was looking miserable; pale and sweaty, leaning against me with most of his weight, as though his own body was simply too much to deal with anymore.
I knew what it was. I’d seen the men Vidar had given blood, when they weren’t allowed it. It was much like people who drank too much and stopped drinking suddenly—nausea, sweating, listlessness, and sometimes even worse things. I’d never seen anyone die for want of dragon blood as they occasionally did drink, but that didn’t mean the situation wasn’t miserable.
She looked him over, frowning, clearly unaware of the issue, because who could possibly know it?
