Page 109 of House of Ashes

“You already know we’re in,” Doric told Rhylan. “The Gilded Skies and my House have…we have a complicated history. We would never support one of them in Koressis.”

Elinor said nothing, letting her mate speak for her. She stared into the depths of her wine glass, swirling it slowly.

“Then we’ll need to have an official meeting before the Second Claim and name our Court,” Rhylan said. “Kirana is our acting emissary to the Wildlands for my father’s people. Maristela, if you can continue to work on Chantrelle…”

“I’ll do what I can,” she said glumly. “But don’t expect the entirety of my House to join you. There’s really only me.”

It wasn’t the best outcome we could’ve hoped for.

But for now…it would have to be enough.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

With alliances decided, I was forced to sit through another agonizing hour of small talk—a form of torture, I decided.

None of it meant much of anything to me. I knew many of the names and Houses mentioned, bits of gossip that created a map in my mind—who had mate bonded to whom, who had left their House for another—but if Nerezza had ever instructed me in the fine art of being pleasant over nothing, I’d long since forgotten it.

Instead I remained curled at Rhylan’s side, picking through a small bowl of sugar-crusted berries and nodding where it seemed appropriate.

He kept his arm around me, his presence making me feel…if not like I belonged, then at least like I had the right to be there. That I wasn’t an intruder in a conversation that had nothing to do with me.

But I still couldn’t bring myself to contribute anything. I had no gossip to share. No amusing stories. No friendships to speak of.

These were Rhylan’s friends, not mine, and I didn’t feel I would ever be able to fully relax around them. I could not see myself forming any sort of true friendship with Maristela, no matter how deeply I craved a relationship that wasn’t based on what they could for me.

But he spoke for me, understanding that I was frozen at his side. He made sure there were no dropped silences, no empty places where I should have said something and didn’t, and I knew it was because he knew that I would rather cut my own tongue out than fill those gaps.

I appreciated it more than I could say. I was what my mother had made of me.

And finally, he saved me.

With a barely-concealed yawn and a stretch that pulled me tightly against him, Rhylan hinted that the night was getting old—and Maristela, that paragon of graciousness and beauty, took the hint.

“Down the hall, last door on your left,” she told him. “I keep a guest room well out of my mother’s way. You won’t have to worry about her.”

Rhylan nodded goodnight to Elinor and Doric, and I measured my footsteps to the door, unable to hide the release of tension in my shoulders as relief filled me.

It was…difficult to pretend that I felt I belonged. None of it came naturally to me. I was far more comfortable behind locked doors, alone, where I didn’t need to wonder what the other dragonbloods were really thinking when they spoke to me.

“Your torment is over,” Rhylan whispered to me as we walked down the hall, his hand in the small of my back.

“Oh, is it funny to you? It is a torment.” I glanced at him sidelong, peeking up under my eyelashes. “You have no idea how hard it is for…for someone like me to be liked.”

We reached the end of the hall, and the last door on the left was plain and unmarked. Rhylan pushed it open, gently nudging me inside.

My heartbeat stuttered as I took in the open windows, the thick, fluffy carpet underfoot, and the soft drape of gauze indigo canopies…surrounding a single bed.

Oh, gods.

I froze in place, only several steps into the room, but there was no time to escape. Rhylan had already closed the door and bolted it behind us.

“Finally, we’re alone.” He stretched, shedding his shirt as he crossed the room. The Bloodless servants of Kirion had left our saddlebags at the foot of the bed…the bed I would have to share with him.

My mouth had gone strangely dry. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Rhylan turned, the dim glow of the eyrie’s light crystals shimmering over his golden skin. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

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