Page 152 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

“I must say. I didn’t expect you to accept my offer so soon.” The happiness on Ezander’s face was enough to make a rainy day feel blisteringly warm. “Must have been my charm. I’ve been told I’mquiteirresistible.”

Alora huffed a laugh, trailing her gaze to the emporium Erissa had pulled Garrik inside. Her poor High Prince. He looked like he pleaded for death every second. “Don’t flatter yourself. I simply needed a gown … perhaps some jewelry for the masquerade.”

Ezander grinned at that. Clearly seeing through her lie and enjoying it. But for him, he would never know the true reason. “Indeed, my lady,” he laughed, and she refused that small smile budding on her face.

Ezander dared a hesitant hand on her back and gestured her forward to a stone bridge streamed in garlands of red roses. Their attendants, maidservants, and Dragons far enough ahead and behind to shroud them in a cocoon of privacy as they stopped in the middle.

Again, the beauty of the city stole her. The sun and clouds, the cliffs around them reflecting on the river so far below, she wondered if she jumped if she could touch the bottom.

Something smelled of cherry pastries, perhaps of sugary pies. Dinnerware scraped along porcelain plates outside a bake shop two buildings down, and Alora knew the next place she’d venture to. Her mind turned to the past. To the small comforts she’d found. Rowlen, despite being a wealthy clothing merchant’s son, created the best pies. Especially on her birthday.

Alora turned to Ezander and?—

He wasn’t there.

But he was. Crouching at the bottom of the rose garland, observing wilted brown petals. He side-eyed her for a moment. Side-eyed the servants and buildings beyond when the petals perked and pigmented brighter than any flower and woven ribbon on the railing.

She thought she hallucinated it. But there it was. Revived perfectly anew, while a breeze tickled its flawless petals.

Almost like waiting for a half-assed apology after a bruising slap to the cheek.

Stars, she hated red roses. Not taking her eye off that horrid flower, she stepped backward, gaping. “You’re a?—”

“Marked One,” Ezander finished, eyes shifting around the street. “No need to call your Dragons. It is known to Galdheir.”

“You have powers of earth shifting?” A cold bite left her tongue laced with curiosity. It must’ve been nice to be a royal who escaped the greed of the High King. Not so many were as lucky.

“Time,” Ezander corrected. Her unease vanished. “I shift time. A lot less than what I was born with, but I guess I should be grateful for what I still possess.” There was hesitation in his words. Where a quick scowl covered his face, he then smiled as if it hadn’t happened. “Magnelis now commands most of my powers for his benefit. For the good of the realm, of course.”

It was almost as if he was waiting for her to agree, so Alora repeated, “Of course. For the good of the realm,” and schooled her face, neutral. Something inside her whispered that Ezander didn’t mean a word of it. Whether angry over his powers lost or … something else.

“What you saw with the flower,” he continued, leaning back against the railing as wind rustled his golden hair, “was a shift in time. I simply altered its perception of life and rewound its timeline. It now lives in the past, in our future.” He noticed her slight confusion. “It is hard to explain.”

“Does His Highness know?”

“He was there when Magnelis stole—” Ezander coughed into his fist, and she found the other side of the bridge, her maidservant Miwa, and those incredible white wings to be more interesting—and to cover the grin she couldn’t hide. “When I offered my powers,” he corrected.

For the good of the realm. He didn’t need to speak the words, but it was written on his face.

“Father was able to persuade Magnelis to allow me to keep a kernel of it. It could be pertinent to Kadamar and my father.”

A squealing giggle interrupted them. They glanced over the bridge to where Erissa was practically bouncing on her priceless heels outside an emporium. She extended her hand to Garrik, who tightened his jaw and offered a coin purse, but instead, she looped her arm in his. Garrik adjusted the fabric of his silver threaded onyx jacket at his abdomen before Erissa pulled him inside a crystal showroom nearby.

Stars fucking burn me, Garrik’s rough voice rippled through her mind.

She let that warm sound wash over her and answered,Can’t handle a little shopping?

Cannot handleErissa. How long do princesses shop for?

Don’t know. I’m not a princess.

“Yesterday,” the princeling unknowingly interrupted. “When sparring with Garrik—” Ezander’s face blanched. Unmistakable fear cloaked his eyes. “Apologies, my lady. When sparring with our High Prince.”

“You don’t need to be so careful with your words, Ezander. It’s okay. I won’t tell him of the informality.”

Gratitude radiated off him as he deepened a breath.

Maybe they didn’t need to do so much scheming after all. Ezander seemed to be a genuine male. The way he was being so careful with his words wasn’t a faerie used to attending courtsand bowing to the High King’s whims. If anything, he seemed to want to speak his mind, but the fact that she was a Dragon … a Dragon regarded as mercenaries and executioners for the High King’s pleasure…

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