Page 103 of The Horde King of Shadow

Klara gasped when I pulled out a beautiful floor-length dress, made of silver hatchling scales with shimmering jewels sewed into the bodice.

“Sarkin, it’s so lovely,” Klara murmured, reaching out to touch the material. “I’ve never seen anything so fine.”

“I thought you might want to wear this on Akymor. It’s a special day in Sarroth—it marks the end of the Elthika’s mating season, before they begin to nest with their eggs. I hold a celebration at the citadel for mykya’rassa,and there are small parties in each of the villages. I try to visit them all through the night.”

She was staring at me, that shy expression on her features again. She looked down at the dress when her cheeks flushed, rubbing the material between her fingertips. “I would like that.”

Satisfaction burned in my chest.

I pulled out my next gift. Her eyes alighted on the pair of them, jeweled hair clips, crafted of the purest of silvers.

“So you never have to hide your scar,” I told her, thinking of what she’d just told me. “Especially not from me.”

She sucked in a quiet breath, meeting my eyes. I thought hers went a little glassy before she blinked swiftly.

“Thank you. I…I don’t know what to say. You spoil me with these pretty things,” she said, touching the clips when I placed them in her palms, running her fingertips over the etched metal.

But pretty things didn’t make her truly happy, did they?

I thought my last gift might though.

“One more,” I said.

“More?” She laughed.

“I saved the best for last.”

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull when I pulled an Elthika scale–bound book from the bottom of the bag.

“Sarkin,” she breathed. “That’s a…that’s a…”

“A book?”

“Yes!”

I chuckled, knowing I made the right decision. Books weren’t usually for sale in Elysom’s collections, but I’d offered a price to a private collector, one he hadn’t been able to turn down.

She reached for it eagerly, and I grinned, shaking my head when I saw her hands were trembling.

“Don’t worry—I didn’t get my filthy hands all over the pages,” I informed her, thinking back to when I’d first bumped into her at the marketplace in Dothik.

“Oh, Sarkin,” she breathed.Nowshe was actually blinking back happy tears as she carefully flipped open the cover, thumbing through the first few pages. “And it’s in the universal language!”

“It’s in both,” I informed her. “It’s translated from Karag—you can see the original text in the last half of the book. Whenwe return to Sarroth, there is a scholar there who can help you learn to read it. Most of our books are written in our language or a blend of Karag and the universal tongue. It will expand your available reading material at the very least, learning Karag.”

“Of course,” she said, her shoulders rising with a deep, determined breath, as if she was ready to begin her tutoring now. “I’ll learn it.”

“It’s a history of Elthika,” I told her. “I thought it would be useful to you.”

I grunted when she launched herself at me. I caught her around the waist, the book pressed between us.

She kissed me. “Thank you.Kakkira vor.I love it. I…”

Again she stopped herself, whatever she’d been about to say next, though we both heard it. Then she beamed at me.

“You shouldn’t have shown this to me because now I don’t want to sleep,” she said, sighing, running her fingertips over the cover, the scales making a sound as her nails stroked over them.

I smiled. “How about I read you a few pages in the Karag language?”

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