Page 109 of Court of Secrets and Flames

King Jasper stiffens, his knuckles whitening against the dark oak of his throne as his gaze bores into me. “Our dragons?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, the dragons that live in Tirene, not just the ones around the palace. The juvenile was not one I’ve ever seen before, but I am sure all of Tirene will mourn the loss of such a noble and young creature.”

“Perhaps the creatures encountered a predator in the wild, or worse, poachers bold enough to threaten our skies.” Jasper’s calculating brown eyes search mine.

What does he see? Fear? Defiance? The woman who almost banged his brother behind a tapestry earlier?

Sterling scoffs. “Unless you’re aware of a new, secret breed of beast, dragons are apex predators. No other creature exists that’s big and deadly enough to hunt one. Juveniles are protected by an adult until they’re big enough to hunt on their own.”

“Your Majesty.” Bastian bows. His wings, folded neatly behind him, betray none of the urgency that fires his hazel eyes. “Please grant me leave to pursue the matter. I shall gather a contingent and trace their flight.”

“Indeed, you shall.” Jasper gives a curt nod. His attention shifts back to me, as if anticipating my next move before it unfolds.

“May I accompany him?” I take a small step forward, hoping my offer doesn’t piss off the king. “Two pairs of eyes can’t hurt.”

Sterling’s throat bobs, and his gaze darts between Bastian and me. “I could go as well.”

“Not necessary,” Jasper barks, gripping the arm of the throne. “And your place is here with me, Lady Lark. You would do well to remember that.”

Or what? You’ll lock me in a prison cell again?

A surge of indignation threatens to unravel my composure, the desire to unfurl my wings and flee almost too overpowering to resist.

A bitter laugh tickles the back of my throat, stifled only by self-preservation.

He’ll use me for war. He’ll use me for political maneuvering. He hopes to use me as a fucking broodmare. The royal bastard will even happily sacrifice me to the prophecy that details my death.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Forgive my…indiscretion.”

At my deliberate word choice, Jasper’s eyes narrow.

“We have lost a rare and precious commodity.” The king addresses Sterling, not even sparing me another glance, and I freeze, wondering if he’s speaking of the missing eyril. “Dragons are not simple beasts that can be bred at will every year. But if our dragons could be persuaded to find others and bring them here to serve the Crown…”

I clench my teeth to trap my abhorrence at the thought of those magnificent creatures reduced to servitude. This is the wrong place and time to air my opinion.

Bastian steps forward. Unlike his obvious discomfort during our awkward encounter in the archives, today he exudes a quiet confidence of those born to command. His bearing piques my curiosity, and I remind myself to ask Leesa about him once this current cluster fuck is handled. “If I may, Your Highness. One of our scouts brings rumors from Flighthaven that speak of dragons in distress and equally unsettled as our own.” The undercurrent of urgency in his voice does not escape me.

Jasper drums his fingers on the arm of his throne. “Rumors that may or may not be true.”

This is getting us nowhere.

Reaching the same conclusion, Sterling clears his throat. “Your Majesty, could you please clear the room? Lark and I request a private audience.”

“Whatever you have to say, brother, you can air now.”

Shit. I reach for Sterling’s tunic, to urge him to wait, but it’s too late.

“I was wondering what happened to our eyril stores? While Lark and I checked for signs of sabotage, we peeked inside, only to find it empty.”

The chamber’s air thickens with murmurs and tension. Jasper’s jaw goes slack before he slams a fist on his chair. “That’s it! Everyone save my brother and Lady Lark, clear the room.”

In a chorus of whispers, the courtiers exit the chamber. The guards linger, but Jasper waves them off, ordering them to wait outside the door.

When everyone’s gone, he fixes his attention on his brother. “Why are you asking about the eyril?”

“Like I said, we were searching for an explanation for the dragons’ behavior and discovered an empty storeroom.”

For a tense few seconds, Jasper glares. “As king, I’m not required to explain my decisions. Not even to you, brother.” Then his shoulders sag a little. “Though in this case, I have nothing to hide. Probably over five years ago, I had the eyril carried to a remote stretch of beach and burned.”

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