Shaking his head, he whispers, “I thought that perhaps I did make a mistake. Perhaps I should have excused you, and I was holding you against your will.”
“I was processing,” I say quietly. “I still am. But you know it’s important to me to free my brother—and I do not back out from an agreement.”
A soft knock raps the door, and we both turn toward it. Devin calls from the other side, “My King, the women are moving to their lesson if you want Marcella to join them.”
We both slide our attention from the door to each other. Dipping my head, I glide toward the door. As I wrap my hand around the handle, I toss Cyrus a quick glance. “I did want to come see you. And I wish I had.”
Then I open the door and leave.
Twenty-Six
- LYRA -
When Lady Bethany leads us outside to the gardens without waiting for Marcella, my stomach churns.
What if they discovered that she had snuck into my room last night? Or if they heard about our secretive alliance, even if we hadn’t agreed to anything yet?
Can I even trust Marcella Briarstone?
A shiver races down my spine at the memory of the Millton priest’s murder. Connor Briarstone had disappeared after the man’s body was discovered. The story was told countless times—used to warn people to stay inside after sunset and lock their doors and windows.
Because Connor Briarstone could’ve been anywhere. And I’ll never forget the nights I spent tossing and turning, scared he’d break into my window and pin me down before stripping me of my clothes. And once I was bare beneath him, he would take his time in cutting me open from the hollow of my throat down to my belly, then pry open my innards to retrieve my lungs and lay them on my bleeding chest. Watching me struggle until my last breath escaped my pained lips, just as it had been done to the priest.
Shaking my head to clear the brutal thought out of my mind, I slow my breath by glancing at the peonies we pass in the gardens. A small smile comes to my lips knowing who planted them there. Who tended them into such a stunning array.
As I rake my gaze across the rest of the flower beds, I bite my lip to fruitlessly keep from imagining Cyrus on his knees, hair held back in a bun. Sleeves pushed up to his elbows as he’s bent over a flower bed. Tilling the soil. Ripping out old weeds and rocks.
Lady Bethany leads us toward the back of the gardens and up a few stone steps to a grassy clearing surrounded by trees and shrubbery. “Take a seat, girls.”
We all settle down, positioning ourselves in a circle.
“Today’s lesson will be that of patience. Of stillness.” Lady Bethany walks first to Aelia, who’s on my right. “Everyone shall hold out their hands and rest them on their knees.”
We all follow the instruction, and Lady Bethany digs into a bag at her hip before placing something in Aelia’s palms. She moves to me next, placing tiny red berries in both of my hands, then moving around the rest of the group. She sits in the middle, securing the flap on her bag. “Your test begins…now.”
We all sit in silence, only disturbed by a soft breeze lifting the leaves on the trees. Minutes tick by, and I glance from woman to woman. Wondering what this so-called test is about. While also wondering where Marcella is.
An electric-blue butterfly floats by, its wings tipped in an iridescent sheen that catches the sunlight as it flies. It's halfway through the circle when it cuts right, then circles around our group before stopping before me. It drops down to land right on the tip of my ring finger.
Not a butterfly at all.
A smalldragonwith butterfly wings.
Its small blue head snaps to me. Beady little black eyes regard me for a long moment before it crawls down my finger to the berries in my palm.
It nudges one until it rolls over, then sniffs before opening its jaws and swallowing the berry. I watch in frozen fascination as it moves about my palm. Another one, this time sunset orange, comes and lands on my other palm.
I’ve never known dragons to be anything other than fearsome creatures. Yet as I watch these dainty things on my hands, glancing around to see more floating about our circle, a small grin lifts my lips.
Aelia’s soft giggle catches my attention beside me, and out of the corner of my eye there’s a yellow dragon with butterfly wings rolling around on her palm before it’s startled and flies away. A majority of the other women have none on them. Some are too fearful, while others are too eager.
A flutter of air tickles near my ear, and I try not to flinch against it. A sniff brushes near my ear, before small feet climb up my hair onto the top of my head.
I breathe slowly, as to not frighten them. Keeping my head still. The first blue one rubs a cheek against my finger, now thatit’s consumed all the berries. And the orange one on my right hand accidentally nips my palm as it eats.
Gritting my teeth, I can’t help but flinch.
All the dragons on me freeze, their eyes snapping to me and widening. I close my eyes.
