Page 98 of Court of Secrets and Flames

As I enter the corridor, Sterling straightens from the wall and offers his arm.

Taking small, careful steps at first, we start our walk. With each stride, I can feel my body strengthening as the blood begins flowing.

I gather my courage. “Back in my room…are you?—”

“Don’t.” His arm tenses. “I can’t think about that right now.”

I hesitate before nodding. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

His relief is palpable. “Shall we visit the fire paddock? Dame might be inclined for a flight, and the fresh air will do you good.”

The mere thought of soaring through the skies quickens my pulse.

My excitement extinguishes in the next breath. “A flight? Are you sure…will the king allow it?”

“He will if he knows what’s good for him.”

His fist clenches, drawing my attention to his knuckles. Oh shit. I missed it back in the room, but the skin is all raw and red. As if, say, he’d punched someone.

I grab his hand for a closer inspection of the wounds. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

He glances at the object of my focus. “I didn’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“You told me to say I didn’t, not that I couldn’t lie.” He shrugs and pats my hand. “Don’t worry about it, Duchess.”

Don’t worry about it.Right. I’ll just shove the fact that my lover attacked the king of Tirene over me out of my head. Not like it’s treasonous or anything.

Despite his asinine comment, though, I do just that and quit thinking about the king or where we stand after his accurate accusation that Sterling and I are having relations. The trip isn’t far, yet by the time the walls come into view, I am nearly back to my usual gate.

Before we arrive, I already know what we’ll find. The sand and crushed-stone filled paddock is devoid of its usual fiery occupants. Even the carts used to haul their leftovers to the dog kennels are empty and waiting, meaning they weren’t here to break their fast.

“They’re gone.” Smoldering embers and earth fill my senses, but the familiar and welcoming aromas do nothing to combat my rising uneasiness. “Is it normal, for them to all leave at the same time like this?”

Sterling’s gaze follows the horizon, searching for signs of our winged companions. “No, but I’m sure they’ll return. Meanwhile, we have the sky to ourselves, should you feel up to it.”

I consider his words and unfurl my wings, relishing the stretch of muscles too long confined to sickbed idleness.

Sterling watches, an unreadable expression carved into his features.

We launch ourselves skyward, the ground surrendering its hold on us with a reluctance Sterling has to help me overcome at first. He stays by my side, close enough to intervene should my strength waver.

Below, the training field comes into view, marked with the scars of battle drills, the ordered chaos of Sterling’s design.

“Is this helping?” His hands hover near me while his eyes rove, drinking in every bit of my appearance.

How bad must I appear that he’s so worried?

I can only nod, not strong enough yet to speak and fly at the same time. Still, flying is easier on my stomach, especially when I lean forward and enjoy the fresh air cleansing my face. After a tumultuous last few days, I’m finally starting to feel like myself again.

No. That’s not right. The me I was before is gone now. She would have withered away at the mere thought of being poisoned. She couldn’t even stand up to Mother.

The old Lark, the girl who skulked in shadows, who clung to fear as if it were her only ally, is no longer here. In her place stands someone…new. A woman still obscure to me but emerging like dawn’s first light. She is sculpted by betrayal, cast in resilience, and draped in the quiet resolve of someone who’s gazed into death’s eyes and chosen life.

My rebirth has not finished. I sense a transformation within, a metamorphosis not yet complete but inexorably underway.

Dawn filters through the gauzy curtains, casting a hesitant light uponThe Chronicles of the Mother Wurmlying abandoned beside me.

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