Page 4 of Tears of Gold

It’s not surprising I may have been a little star struck by him; he’s royalty, after all. But if we had any kind of relationship, he’d have mentioned it before now, which means it was one-sided, if anything. Plus, I can’t imagine this stern, imposing guy behaving in any other way than with cool formality.

Skye presses his hand ever so lightly against my back until I step forward, butterflies massing in my stomach. “Erri—Your Highness, Ava has remembered something,” he says.

All eyes fall on me, and I promptly examine the carpet. Erritt has lovely thick ones in pale gray wool.

“Ava?” Erritt asks, voice tinged with hope.

Am I supposed to curtsey in his presence? Skye didn’t bow. I lick my suddenly dry mouth. “I—” Why is it so damn hard to talk to either of them?

Vanrey speaks into the silence. “Miss Ava, maybe you would like to sit down? Can I get you a cup of tea?”

I nod dumbly and slide onto the couch, grateful for the aide’s hospitality. Erritt sits across from me, and Skye stands to the side, his brown eyes boring a hole through me. Their combined presence overpowers me, thickening the air. I examine my nails and push back my cuticles while we wait.

Vanrey returns faster than I thought it takes a kettle to boil. “Try this, Miss Ava.” He offers me a cup of fine-painted porcelain rimmed in gold and then hands one to Erritt. “Skye?”

“No, thank you, sir,” Skye says woodenly, standing stiffly. It’s very different from how casually he approached me in the hallway.

The dignified aide shakes his head slightly. “No titles, remember?”

“Ah, yes.” Skye shifts from one foot to the other. I’m not surprised by his nervousness since dragons and elementals don’t get along, yet Skye seemed eager to come and see Prince Erritt. I sneak a quick look between both of them.

Vanrey turns and smiles expectantly at me, and I swallow hard. Skye and Erritt are confusing, but this elemental downright terrifies me. He has an aura of a man of power, like a ruthless CEO. I’m little more than a bug to him, but somehow knowing that is reassuring. I know where I stand, and the fact that his interest in me is little more than curiosity is a relief. Still, he’s courteous.

With all eyes turned my way, I remember why Skye dragged me here. “Um, right.” I smooth my skirt over my knees. “There was a woman at the Davina camp who talked with me; her name was Hua. I asked why they wanted me—” I sip the hot black tea as I try to pull my shaky thoughts into some semblance of order.

“She said they don’t want me, um, I mean, she said I was bait for someone else. Someone Hua referred to as she.”

I frown, concentrating, the headache from earlier tugging on my temples. “I think Hua said they want a few powerful warriors rather than many soldiers for their war. She wants me so that they can blackmail her—some woman.” I spread my hands, my recollection patchy.

Prince Erritt laces his fingers together in his lap. His words come haltingly. “Did they . . . say who ‘she’ is?” Despite his slow speech, his tone is as mild and well-modulated as always, yet when I glance at him, I get the impression the answer is significant.

Unfortunately, it’s not one I can help him with, and my shoulders fall. I think I want to be able to give Prince Erritt better news rather than disappoint him.

I shake my head. “No. Also, Hua asked me about princes.” My belly churns from everyone watching me so intensely. I’m far more frustrated by my half-answers than they are. I need to know what happened to me!

Vanrey cocks his head. “Princes? As in more than one?”

“Yes. But I don’t remember why.”

Skye speaks into the silence. “Someone else out there wants Ava.”

“Someone powerful, apparently,” Vanrey muses. He turns to the prince. “My lord, could this have something to do with the other disappearances?”

Erritt spreads his hands. “It seems to . . . fit, although Ava is an . . . outlier in the data. This might be proof that the . . . Davinas are responsible for the . . . disappearances.”

I study my tea, listening to him struggle to speak, his stutter a result of Chengan’s attempted assassination. Despite the slowness, Erritt has a pleasant voice, though cold and formal. I listen intently whenever he speaks, as if drawn to the sound.

Vanrey hums, his lips tightening in annoyance, and I cringe. “I’d like to know why they thought they could use a human.”

My head throbs, the tension spreading down my neck. “What disappearances?”

Vanrey runs his forefinger along the rim of the tablet. “A small number of gifted individuals have gone missing. We’ve known for a while the Davinas are targeting some of the more powerful clans.”

“What difference can just a few individuals make in a war?” I ask.

Skye and Vanrey exchange odd looks before Skye answers me. “Did you happen to see the state of the Davina camp before you . . . left?”

I shake my head, but sparks of memory flare—buildings crushed into piles of twigs, smoke burning into my nostrils, and a flailing shadow. I stiffen.