This surprise actually drags a sound out of him. “Abely?”
I nod, the stone grating against my skin.
“Abely’s no fool, Soren. He knows the risks.”
“We all do.” Yet Abely had risked losing control of himself. He risked transforming in the middle of a Vasnan tavern, risked those people’s safety and my subjects’ hope of water.
He’d risked me losing my fated flame before she was even mine.
Rally’s disbelief is clear in his tone. “There has to be more to it.”
“Or maybe,” I say, my voice cutting even to my ears, “he’s just not the saint you seem to think he is, hmm?”
When Rally doesn’t answer, I cast a look back. His expression is stony, which tells me I cut too deep. I let out a long breath.
“My apologies,” I say.
Rally lowers his head in acknowledgement.
“Look into it if you want,” I say, pushing away from the wall. “But not at the risk of her safety, understand?”
“Of course. Thank you.”
Silence fills the corridor. I relish the momentary quiet in my mind.
“What are you going to do with him?” Rally asks, boring into my peace.
“I wanted to rip his head from his body, but the lady disagreed.”
Rally says nothing.
“I think I would have only maimed him,” I say.
“You think?”
I shrug.
Rally’s brows draw together in thought. “He really didn’t tell her anything?”
“Other than to not call me by my name, no.” A dragon’s name is his to give, of course, but I’d empty my coffers to hear my name on her lips. I’d shower her in diamonds, wreath her in—
“Nothing else?”
With effort, I focus on Rally. “No.”
“So she won’t know what you did to—”
“No,” I say firmly.
“And she’s already accepted the jewel?”
I shut my eyes. “Yes.”
Our heads lift at the sound of three drawn-out horn blasts, the call of visiting dignitaries arriving. I sigh.
“I’ll handle it,” Rally says, and when I let out a noncommittal grumble he adds, “You aren’t even dressed.”
“I haven’t had breakfast either.”
