Page 37 of The Rose in the Shadows

Since my arrival at court, I’d witnessed the Dragon’s anger on several occasions, but I could never have predicted the extent of his cruelty wentthatfar. How in all of creation had Clay continued his life day after day in this court after watching that?

I wanted to say something to comfort him, but what was there to say?

Nothing.

There was nothing I, or anyone, could ever say to Clay to erase that this had happened in front of him–to him.

Wordlessly and without thought, I leaned forward and touched my hand to his, squeezing softly in a silent show of support. The skin was warm to the touch, too warm, but I didn’t flinch.

He sighed suddenly, staring at my hand on his. I wondered, numbly, how many others knew this story. How many times had Clay been allowed the space to give words to his trauma? Wasthat shudder he released from the relief of finally getting it off his chest?

Truthfully, I don’t know why he trusted me with it. I seemed like the least likely person to serve as a confidante to him, but if I could at least give him the momentary relief of acknowledging his hurt then I would do that. Of course I would do that.

“What happened after that?” I whispered, urging him to continue.

He laughed bitterly, finally lifting his head to look at me. His eyes were golden.

“Nothing. He just walked out of the room. When the battle was over, everyone assumed she had died during it. Elira was devastated and blamed herself. She and my uncle left the country immediately after the peace treaty was signed. They’ve never returned. Two weeks after it happened, my father married Valentina, a Dragon from the Republic of Inanis, as a sign of the peace between our nations. He hasn’t spoken of that day since.”

Clay looked away, looking painfully haunted, and I allowed him a moment of privacy by going to refill his glass once more. As I gave it to him, I looked to his eyes, searching for the insight they would give me to his mood. They had faded to grey again.

I think we reached a silent understanding then, he and I. Neither of us was living the life we would have chosen for ourselves had we been allowed any other choice.

The silence seemed like it would stretch forever until the bedchamber door burst open, and Iris came stumbling in, calling for Clay. He ripped his gaze from mine, and I sat back suddenly, finishing my glass of wine in a rush. Iris focused in on us immediately, her eyes flickering back and forth. She smirked slightly, but quickly replaced it with one of her dazzling smiles as she hopped to perch on the arm of my chair.

“Oh good! You’re both here!”

Clay’s jaw clenched, and he looked like he wanted to smack her off his furniture, but she only winked at him. She began prattling on about something excitedly, but I could hardly make out the words. Not when I was so distracted by her clothing.

“Why in all of creation are you dressed likethat?”

I was not one to turn my nose up to plain clothing, but this was Iris we were talking about. Iris loved the glamour of court life more than anyone else. She never left her rooms unless she was entirely done up in the most extravagant fashions. And yet, she sat in front of me in a simple beige gown with an apron tied around her waist. Had Iris ever even cooked something? Her hair, typically brightly colored and adorned in jewels, was hidden under a cloth that kept it out of her freshly washed face.

She looked quite similar to how she had looked last night when we snuck out of the castle.

But tonight we were sitting in front of the Crown Prince.

Surely she wasn’t planning to escape the grounds right in front of him?

She grinned down at me conspiratorially and wiggled her eyebrows. I glanced at Clay, out of the corner of my eye, worried I was about to be in trouble. The Crown Prince only sighed and stood, though, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it haphazardly across the room onto the pile of clothes on the bed.

“She wants to take you out,” he told me.

Within just twenty minutes, Iris had changed us from two Descendants of royal families to ordinary townspeople. She had given me a shift gown, similar to the one she wore,and tied my hair away from my face with a handkerchief. Clay had removed his finery in favor of leather trousers and a simple cotton shirt. I couldn’t help but awkwardly turn away from him to hide my flush when he came out of his dressing room wearing those pants. You’d have to be blind not to admit that the prince was incredibly well-built… inallareas.

“You’re not using your magic on us?” I asked Iris.

“It’s too much work to keep the illusion going all night. This will be fine.”

She snuck us out the back of the Palace through a hidden chamber in Clay's rooms. There, in the gardens, a carriage was waiting for us with the blinds drawn.

“We’re not exactly supposed to be doing this, I gather?” I asked as she shoved me into the carriage before she and Clay climbed in after me.

Iris snorted unattractively as she settled herself into her seat. “Please, the Dragon would have my head on a spike if he knew I was dragging his precious heir out to where the common folk entertain themselves.”

Clay’s eyes darkened and I felt my stomach toss unhappily. The memory of our conversation was still too fresh to find humour in Iris’ words. Because now I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Dragon truly was capable of harming her. He’d threatened me before with her safety, but part of me had doubted he could do anything to harm his own niece - even if she was just a niece by marriage.

He could and would, though. The Dragon’s cruelty knew no bounds.

---