Page 25 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“Gladly.” His hand grips my elbow, his meaning clear. He won’t leave me alone with these nymphs for one second.

“We’ll get ya sorted right away, then, Your Highness.” Dagny wipes her hands on her apron. “Corrin! Corr—”

“I’m right behind you, ya daft fool.” The stern-faced lady’s maid glares at her with annoyance before turning her focus to me. “Your Highness.” Her chest heaves with a sigh. “I hope you don’t expect me to salvage that outfit.”

“At least I changed out of my dress.”

Her stony face breaks with a smile. “It is good to have you back. Will the king be along shortly?”

I don’t have to ask which king she means. She’s always been loyal to Zander. “Yes. I hope so.” I can’t blame him for leaving me and rushing out to reclaim his throne the second he had a chance. After all, he lost it because of me. But what will he find while he’s out there? A dead brother? A realm that has turned against him, no matter who his allies may be?

She claps her hands. “I’ve sent someone to draw your bath, and I’m sure you’re famished. Your meal will be ready by the time you’ve scrubbed yourself clean.”

Same old Corrin. “Settling in just fine, I see.” She ran the entire household in Cirilea’s castle, and it’s becoming clear she’s stepped into the role here.

“It is certainly a change.” Her suspicious gaze flitters to Oredai before dismissing him with a displeased sniff.

I introduce Agatha. “She is the Master Scribe from Mordain. She will be spending a lot of time in the library. Please help her settle in so she can rest.”

“Speaking of rest …” Jarek grits his teeth.

“Okay! I’m going!” He’s not usually this pushy.

Commotion stirs as Pan and Eden dash out from a hallway in hysterics, Gracen’s daughter Lilou in Eden’s arms. Right behind them is Mika, his curly mop of brown hair damp with sweat.

Pan’s feet falter. “Romy! You’re back!”

I grin. He’s the only one who calls me that.

“I do not have the energy for this.” Jarek sways on his feet.

Eden quickly searches out the legionary she sometimes shares a bed with. Her eyes light up with excitement when she finds him next to me.

But her face twists with shock in the next moment as he slumps to the marble floor.

I drop to my knees, my panic exploding as I seize his jaw. “He’s unconscious.” Or worse. His skin is gray and cold. I plead with my affinities to rise, but they will not come.

He is not long for this world.

“What?” I erupt, glaring up at the Cindrae leader. “What do you mean?”

He reeks of vrog toxin. It is leaching the life from his body. It may already be too late to heal now.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” My anger echoes through the grand space, suddenly quiet as bystanders wait.

Oredai smirks in response.

I recommended you order him to accept healing.

“You …” I grit my teeth. Now is not the time. “Get him upstairs with your best healers. And it better not be too late, for your sake.” I leave the unspoken threat dangling in the air.

His amusement vanishes in an instant. He snaps his fingers. The closest gargoyle scoops up Jarek’s limp body and runs up the main stairs with surprising speed; a dozen wisps take flight behind him.

I chase after them, my heart pounding in my ears, Loth and Zorya on my heels.

By the time we reach his chambers, Jarek is already stripped of his warrior leathers and lying in bed, draped in a white sheet speckled in blood. A long, thin line drags across his rib cage, where the claw of this vrog opened his skin. It might have been little more than a scratch at the start, but now it’s angry and red and swollen, with a black, tar-like liquid oozing out.

The wisps hover around his body, their giggles contrary to the grim task ahead.

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