Page 30 of House of Ashes

Kirana’s lovely features seemed to pinch up, and she looked away, staring out the large window.

“Who doesn’t have a good reason to hate them?” she asked quietly. “Don’t you remember the Training Grounds? What she was like?”

My lips curled in a sour smile against my will. I remembered all of it.

I also remembered what Yura had done to me the last time we were together. My hand rose to my throat, unthinking, and I touched the flat, mottled scar that was nearly invisible against my skin.

Well…I remembered parts of it. Claws, and teeth red with my blood. Much of that memory was a blur.

“I see your point.”

“Well, knowing what I know, and what I experienced, there is no world in which I support Yura as the Dragonesse. She’s only gotten worse since…since you were gone.” Kirana paced briskly, picking up a bolt of sheer black silk and handing it to Jenra. “Let’s get an idea of what this will look like.”

“Why don’t you want the title?” I asked, obediently holding my arms up again. “You’re a princess. You could have equal claim with a mate.”

Kirana shook her head and laughed. “Me? Dragonesse? First of all, I don’t want a dragon mate. Second, I spent three years apprenticed to a healer after I was released from the Training Grounds. I poured more of my own blood, sweat, and tears into earning that knowledge than I ever did in training. If I became Dragonesse, I would have to give that up.”

She showed me the hammered gold bangle, pointing out each polished malachite. “See these? Each one represents mastery over an aspect of healing. It took… everything I had in me to earn them.” Kirana frowned, twisting the bangle. “This is the life I want. The life I worked for. I’ve already abdicated my role as a princess in this House. I don’t want to share my mind with a dragon, and I’d rather work with the healers than rule from the top of an eyrie. Koressis always seemed so… lonely to me, somehow.”

“You understand that if this plan fails, if someone catches on, you’re going to be just as culpable under the Law as we are?” I winced as the seamstress came dangerously close to pinning my arm to the black silk. “They won’t allow you to walk free. Your entire household will be given the death sentence along with us.”

To my surprise, it wasn’t Kirana who answered, but Jenra.

“Some things are worth it,” she said roughly, her gentle hands belying her tone as she draped silk over my shoulders. “Sometimes risks must be taken.”

I met Kirana’s eyes. Her face was solemn and set; she nodded once in agreement.

“This is why you have to do your best to get along with Rhylan,” she said, placing a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “You must get well before you return to Varyamar. Every facet of this plan must be in accordance with the others; at no point must anyone suspect you are anything other than a mate bonded pair.”

“I’m trying,” I said honestly.

I truly was, even though the Obsidian Flames were hiding something from me. Something so big that even their servants were fully committed to the charade; what had Tidas and Yura done?

Knowing my murderous, cold-hearted sister… something terrible.

A chill ran down my spine as that flash of memory recurred—her teeth, shining under moonlight?

I couldn’t quite remember, and maybe that was for the best.

Nilsa knocked on the door and entered quietly. She carried a large glass bottle filled to the brim with the most disgusting-looking glop I’d ever seen, and after years on the prison isle, that was genuinely a tough title to claim.

Beads of oil floated on the dark surface of whatever it was, and it was dotted with bits of green. She presented it to Kirana without comment.

“Oh, lovely,” Kirana breathed. “It turned out much better this time. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to brew this up…”

I had a bad feeling about that ooze.

Kirana picked up a spoon from the table setting and scooped up a tiny amount, no larger than a pea, and quickly popped it into her mouth. I didn’t miss the violent shudder that shook her shoulders.

“Perfect,” she pronounced, her nose wrinkled and nostrils flared. “Like my salve, I mixed this batch special, just for you. This is far more intense than I would typically advise, but as we only have two weeks to turn you into presentable competition… well, sacrifices must be made.”

Someone had laid out a long golden straw with the table service. I cursed that someone as Kirana picked it up, slid it into the glop, and held the end of the straw up to my mouth.

“Drink up.” She smiled brightly.

I stared at the bottle of sludge that looked like it had been scraped from the deepest, darkest trenches of the foulest toilet on Mistward.

“Please,” I begged.

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