Page 40 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

The door to Jarek’s chamber creaks open and Zorya steps in. “Your Highness. I heard your voice.” To Jarek, she bows. “Commander. It’s good to see you … not screaming.”

“Where is Zander?” I demand without preamble, stalking forward. “Did he make it back to Ulysede?” Or did something terrible happen to him while I slept?

“He was here. He left for the rift last night.”

“He went back without me!” What about that “kings and queens do not sit idly waiting for mindless beasts” speech he gave me yesterday?

“He felt you should rest.” She grins. “Though your choice of bedfellows was a little perplexing to him.”

I ignore her attempt at humor. “What did he find out? Is Atticus still alive?”

“He did not share news with us and was very clear that he would deliver it to you, himself.”

“That sounds ominous.” My stomach is in knots. “What if something happened to him at the rift?”

“He is impossible to kill. Have you not learned that?” Jarek eases up into a sitting position. “And he was right in his decision to go. He will benefit from Islor’s armies seeing him fight alongside them, and they will benefit in kind. You have important places to be too.”

“Yes, apparently a land full of witches.” Zorya grimaces. “I am not sure if that is better or worse than remaining with these nymphs.”

“You will remain here with Agatha,” Jarek says. “And we are not going to Mordain until we have a plan to get into Mordain.”

“Actually, I might have one.” It’s so obvious, and yet it never came to me yesterday, too exhausted and overwhelmed. “The stone doors in the crypt … Lucretia said there was one that leads to Nyos and it might work once the nymphs return.” Gesine knew where it was within the guild towers. “If I could get to Mordain through it instead of announcing myself at the gate, maybe this Prime wouldn’t be able to bind my affinities. And then I could bring the scribes back through this stone like I brought the children from Cirilea.”

“There are many ifs in that idea.” Jarek casts his sheet aside and stands.

“Jesus.” I whip around, though not before getting an eyeful. “A little warning next time?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. More than once, if I recall.” An arrogant smirk laces his tone.

My cheeks burn at the reminder. Twice—once in the river in Eldred Wood after escaping Cirilea when he very much still wanted me dead, and then in Fernwich, while he was fucking a mortal in a wagon beneath my window. “So glad you’re back to your old self.”

“I suggest you wash the beast blood off you before we leave.” Bare feet pad over the stone toward his bathing chamber. “Unless your plan is to frighten your way through Mordain.”

I shake my head as I stroll past Zorya, who watches him, her eye cast at waist level, unabashed. “I didn’t think that appealed to you.” I’d only ever seen her show interest in Gesine.

She offers no more than a lazy shrug.

“You are a queen now. You should dress the part,” Corrin chastises as she weaves the last braid in my hair. When she saw how I planned to go—with my hair flowing freely—she filled the doorway with her little body, hands on hips, effectively barring me from leaving. I’m desperate to get to the rift—to Zander—but I agreed to the braids if she could do it in under ten minutes.

“Ball gowns work even less with dragons than they do on horses.” I throw her a knowing smile. “Besides, I think this look fits a queen preparing for war.” I found a section of tunics and breeches in my closet, as well as a new, pristine brown leather-and-metal vest that hugs my body. If the nymphs put it in there, clearly they deem it acceptable attire for the Queen for All.

“I do not like all this talk of war.” Her face pinches with worry.

“And yet those are conversations we can’t avoid.” The only question is, who will we be fighting against? Possibly Mordain now, on top of everyone else.

A knock sounds, and Dagny and Gracen are ushered in, Gracen’s arms filled with a sleeping baby.

“Her Highness is a very busy person,” Corrin declares, her nimble fingers fastening the last braid. “She does not have time for frivolous things.”

“It’s okay, I asked them to come.” I ease out of the chair.

“My, doesn’t Her Highness look so regal!” Dagny exclaims, clapping her hands.

The tiny bundle in Gracen’s arms stirs with a sputter that quickly morphs into a wail, earning Gracen’s pained look and Corrin’s scowl.

“Fates, look what I’ve gone and done.” Dagny scoops Suri from Gracen’s arms without asking for permission and begins strolling and rocking and cooing. The baby quiets quickly.

Gracen’s shoulders sink with relief. She wears deep circles under her blue eyes, as if she hasn’t slept in days.

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