Page 24 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“The queen must attend the elders,” Oredai pushes, repeating himself.

“The queen just fought a battle against the beasts that now plague us with your return. She must rest. The elders can wait,” Jarek says evenly, stepping forward, earning sharp hisses from the group of Cindrae.

Oredai displays his pointed teeth as he stares down my commander.

I didn’t notice Loth and Zorya drawing their blades, but now they stand at the ready.

“Jarek …,” I warn. We know nothing of this nymph breed—what their powers are, their skill level. Surely now is not the time for him to pick a fight, injured and with only two legionaries at his side.

“Please don’t fight me on this, Romeria.” A hint of pleading laces his weary voice.

“I would heed your commander’s caution, Your Highness,” Agatha whispers. “You do not take orders from anyone, including them.”

I have plenty of questions for these elders, but the more time I spend with this Cindrae, the more reluctant I become to meet their leaders.

The queen must attend the elders.

I open my mouth to argue.

Once she has rested.

Oredai holds his gritted smile as he silently acquiesces to our demand.

“Thanks for the compromise,” I mutter.

“We shall escort you to the castle.” As one, the wall of Cindrae turn on their heels and move silently through the crowd toward the horses.

I share a glance with my small company and then we follow.

An odd sense of peace flows through me as we cross the bridge, the river’s crystal blue water beneath rippling under the midday sun. Ahead is the castle of white walls and blue spires that is technically mine but does not feel like it.

It reminds me that I now have another castle to rule from in Argon—one that I, Romy Watts from New York City, have never stepped inside.

“Thank the fates nothing flew out of these,” Loth murmurs, and we all nod with agreement as we pass under the archway formed by the two nymph statues that stand several stories tall.

By the time we step through the castle doors, my legs wobble with exhaustion. And yet a wide smile stretches across my face, listening to the peals of laughter inside. The great hall is much the same, with a water fountain in its center and a grand staircase at the far end. Notably empty are the pedestals where nymph sculptures used to sit.

Now mortal children streak through the vast space while pot-bellied goblins chase after them in what appears to be a game of tag, their awkward gait comical.

“See? They are fine,” Jarek announces, impatience in his voice. “You can go upstairs and—”

“Fates, Your Highness!” Dagny is the first to spot me.

I hold up my hands in surrender as she rushes toward me, bowing and bobbing like a clucking hen with each step, as only Dagny can do.

“You look like you’ve been to Azo’dem and back!” she blusters.

“I’m fine! Really.” But she’s not far off because last night was as close to hell as I can imagine.

“Can you believe what’s happened here?” She waves a hand around the space. “One minute it’s us and a lot of statues, and then the next thing we know, there’s all these creatures runnin’ around! Or flyin’, I suppose, ’cause some of them fly when they want to. It was terrifying at first, but they’re not so bad at all.” She glares at the wall of Cindrae behind us. “Most of them, anyway. Even the big—”

“The queen must rest now.” Jarek cuts off her rambling at the kneecaps—the seamstress is known to babble.

I spare him a glare, but it morphs into a frown. His complexion has turned ashen. “Jarek, you look—”

“I’m fine,” he growls.

“Go upstairs and rest.”

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