Page 188 of Of Masks and Fury

Addie led us into a parlor that felt more like an embrace than a room. Worn velvet cushions on elegant frames spoke of a place designed for comfort rather than appearances. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering light across the polished tables. Afternoon sunlight filtered through lace curtains, turning dust motes into dancing stars.

I couldn’t stop touching my sister. I traced my fingertips along her wrist, her arm, her shoulder, reassuring myself she was real and not a dream. We settled on a settee, our knees pressed together, our hands clasped so tightly our knuckles whitened.

Trew took the large chair nearest to my side, close enough that I could reach him if need be. He’d placed himself between the door and us, a shield against whatever might come. Lexie, Derren, and Kerralyn arranged themselves in chairs nearby, completing our protective circle.

Pherin perched on my shoulder while Gavelle settled on Trew’s. The other companions hovered near their people, alert despite the apparent safety of this sanctuary.

“You’re different,” Addie said, her fingers tracing a scar on my forearm I’d gotten during the Rite. “Harder.” Her gaze flicked to Trew, then back to me. “But happier.”

“So much has happened.” My voice caught. “A large bird dropped your mutilated body in the middle of the Day of Mercy ball. When the bird disappeared by magic, Father shouted you’d been murdered by Syllavar rebels.”

Addie’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I found your pendant around the person’s neck.” My swallow took a long time to go down. “I went to Syllavar Court to find your killer.”

“And found him instead,” Addie said, nodding toward Trew with only a ghost of her old mischievous smile.

Heat crept up my neck. “I stabbed him, actually.”

“Of course you did.” She squeezed my hand. “Nothing shouts romantic interest like attempted murder.”

Trew’s low chuckle rippled through me like warm honey. “She swears it was an accident. I maintain she planned it.”

I told her about everything. Addie listened with growing wonder, squeezing my hand tighter when I described the torture chamber in the west tower.

“Commander Thorne’s first letter led me back to Caldrith,” I said. “He told me you were alive, imprisoned in the dungeon.” I touched her face, still marveling that she breathed. “But when I searched, you weren’t there.”

“Someone took me to the tower.” She shuddered. “Commander Thorne rescued me. He killed two guards and carried me out when I couldn’t walk.”

The parlor door opened and the commander stepped through the threshold, looking both older and exactly the same, the scar across his chest more pronounced, his eyes infinitely wearier. He froze when he saw me.

“Isi,” he breathed.

I rose and rushed over to him. His arms wrapped around me, and he held me close. He smelled of leather and steel and safety, the scent of my childhood training sessions when he taught me tosurvive in a world that was determined to either kill me or make me compliant.

He drew back to examine me, his calloused hands gripping my shoulders. Pride and relief warred on his face. “Look at you. A true warrior now.”

“Thanks to you.” My voice trembled. “You taught me everything I needed to survive.”

“No.” His eyes crinkled. “I taught you foundations. You built something remarkable on them.” His gaze flicked over the blades at my hips and the way I stood balanced on the balls of my feet, ready for anything. “I knew you’d find the clues I left behind. You’re clever.”

A throat cleared behind us. Trew stood nearby, his golden eyes watchful but not hostile. The two men assessed each other across the small space, each finding something in the other that must’ve satisfied some unspoken standard, because both spines relaxed.

“King Trewyn.” Thorne inclined his head. “Thank you for protecting Isi.”

“She protects herself quite efficiently.” Trew’s hand found the small of my back as I eased to his side. “I merely provided an occasional sword and several dragons.”

Thorne’s lips twitched. “I’m sure that’s all it was.”

Addie watched this exchange with knowing eyes, her amusement tinged with exhaustion. “I never thought I’d see my sister with the rebel king.”

“Or you with his cousin. I hear you bonded with a drake.”

“I sure did.” Her eyes gleamed.

As if summoned, her small, silvery companion flew in through the open parlor door, landing on a perch stationed near the edge of the room. His scales gleamed like polished mirrors, reflecting firelight in patterns across the walls. When he fixed his gaze on me, smoke curled from his nostrils.

The message in those ancient eyes was unmistakable. Try to harm Addie, and you’ll be ash before your next heartbeat.