Page 27 of The Last of the Dark Lords

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I feel good.” I glanced over at Jelenna, who had frozen at the display of affection. “I promise.”

She shook it off and jumped back on her steed. “If you say so.”

I turned back to Cyrus. “Can we please go?”

He nodded. I walked back to Blaze, patting him on the neck, and then pulled myself back up. Nobody else moved. They still were treating me like I was a ceramic vase balancing on the hump of a camel.

I urged Blaze forward, setting a quick pace. They could all catch up to me if they wanted to.

Over the next hours, the land on either side of us rose up, until soon enough we were riding through the bottom of a canyon. The rocky protrusions grew taller until they became full sandstone cliff walls, and there was a faint sound of rushing water, although we never reached the source.

“Where is the river that carved this canyon?” I asked Cyrus, who had been riding by my side for the last hour or so.

“In the days before the drought it was strong and wide, connecting Ashfuror with Inwic to the northwest. All that’s left of it now is a bubbling brook. It shrinks farther with eachpassing month of summer. Next spring, the melting snow will swell its waters, but unless the weather breaks, it won’t be nearly enough.”

Cyrus’ voice was scarred with deep exhaustion. He had been carrying the burden of drought and famine for years now, and it weighed heavily on his shoulders. I wished that I could alleviate it somehow. Maybe I could.

“What do you want from me?” Cyrus’ head snapped to me at my question. “As your husband.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Will there be something I can do? Can…can I help? I can’t sit alone in a castle looking pretty.”

“First of all, it’s not a castle. It’s a large building. Very simply appointed. There’s nothing to distinguish the palace from the offices and apartment buildings around it. Although there is an old family manse, on the shore of the Eastern Sea.” Cyrus pursed his lips. “I haven’t been there since my father died.”

“I would like to see it.” Cyrus frowned, but I kept going. “You can’t workallthe time.”

“I’m an emperor, in everything but name. I constantly have decisions to make. Plus, this…” He gestured to the circlet that rested on his brow, gray and inert. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, shining with fiery magic, I would have thought it an ordinary, if well-crafted, piece of stone. “It pulls on me, when I’m needed. I can’t exactly up and leave.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t exactly one to take time to rest myself, but Cyrus was more strung out and exhausted than I’d ever been.

“But to answer your question, you should do whatever you’d like. You could join the military command in some way, if that interests you. Or be an advisor. Or you could find something else.”

I didn’t say anything. It suddenly struck me how out of place I would be in my new home. I'd never been to a city other than Greatfalls. What would it be like?

“I had always thought, if I married, that my spouse would rule by my side.”

Cyrus’ words jolted me from my thoughts.

“But I’m not even from Ashfuror.”

“No.” He chuckled, deep and low, and the sound sent tingles running throughout my body. “I had imagined that you would be someone from my own city. Even for them, the path to acceptance might be too great.”

“What do you mean?”

“This crown gave me authority, even as a teenager. It allowed me to hold on to the rule of Ashfuror after my father died, despite my young age.” His tone grew more serious. “My father stored the crowns of the toppled Lords of Fyr in our vaults. If Stahkla accepted my spouse as a Lord of Fyr, if he allowed them to bond with one of his artifacts, then the people would embrace that person.”

Cyrus slowed his steed to a stop, turning to me.

“But bearing an artifact always comes with a cost, and no outsider has ever been accepted by the God of Fire and Metal. Still…it would be nice. To be equals.”

My brows furrowed at his words. I had never even considered that any romantic partnership of minewouldn’tbe between two equals.

“Yes,” I said, unable to hide my anger even as I kept my voice monotone. “Nice.”

“Of course, this is only about fulfilling the treaty,” Cyrus said, rolling his eyes. “No need to think about such things. You can spend your days reading and working on your needlepoint. Perhaps you could throw a lavish dinner once in a while.”

With that, the sarcastic tone was back, and the glimpse of what I thought of as therealCyrus was gone. He picked up his pace, moving away from me.

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