Page 99 of Court of Secrets and Flames

I’ve relinquished its pages only to the hold of the morning, my fingers still stiff from their hours-long clasp. The revelations within the pages have carved grooves into the night, etching shadows beneath my eyes.

With each blink, remnants of the tales flutter across my vision. How the creatures of shadows were abominations, spawned from plants fed a mixture of magic and dragons’ blood.

I recall a passage that had snared my attention and jerked me from the brink of sleep.

Sentience without a soul. Horrors born from horrors.

The way the author combines real life with horror and fantasy captivates me. And is the reason I stayed up all night reading instead of sleeping.

My limbs ache for rest, but my mind races with the imagery of the creatures of shadows. It’s as if the words have woven themselves into the very fabric of my thoughts, relentless in their haunting cadence. Such a vile creature that feasted not on flesh but on the very fear it conjured within its victims. An entity born from the darkest of magics, thriving on the terror it sowed, growing ever stronger with each life force it engulfed.

Controlled then consumed.

The room feels smaller, closing in with the weight of unspoken fears. I rise, pushing the blankets away in a deliberate attempt to distance myself from the lingering dread. The pages of the book flutter as the bed shifts under my weight. A shiver sprints down my spine as I push it aside.

The book sits there, innocuous in the daylight, but I know better. Its fables are more than mere ink and imagination. They are warnings wrapped in allegory.

In the tale, Mother Wurm battles to save her realm yet faces scorn from those she protects. Her nobles accuse her of inviting doom with her own spells. I try to laugh off the absurdity. It’s fiction, after all. Still, the notion of something that kills with fear alone clings to me like a second shadow, and with each page I read, my sense of urgency mounts.

To do what, I’m unsure. I only know that I can’t rid myself of this terrible foreboding. Or the sense that time is running out.

A knock on the door makes me jump. Before I have a chance to call out, the door swings open to reveal Sterling. He ducks his head to peer inside, his black hair grown out enough to brush his shoulders. “You’re awake?”

“I could hardly sleep.” I slide out of bed. “After sleeping for so long, I think I am more than caught up now.”

“Then perhaps you would care to take another walk with me? Or another small flight? The healer recommended taking it easy but getting some gentle exercise in.” Sterling is still standing by the doorway, and I am certain from his posture that someone else is there with him.

I acquiesce with a nod, welcoming the diversion. He steps back, revealing a maid with another glass of tea and a tiny portion of plain bread.

Solid food! I’m moving up in the world.

Once he has let her in my room, he retreats, allowing the maid to help me get cleaned and dressed.

So far, I haven’t seen or heard from King Jasper, not since my little outing to the dungeon. Sterling seems to think he has his brother under control. So far, I’ve respected his wishes by not raising the subject again, but a part of me wonders if we’re only postponing the inevitable. And no part of me believes the king is suddenly okay with how we left things. He was far too adamant about me pledging my commitment to our betrothal to suddenly drop it without a fight.

The only thing I can think is that he’s taking time to plan out his next method of attack. Maybe he has a guilty conscience because of the poisoning, but that won’t last forever, and I need to figure out what to do once my time runs out.

Just because he hasn’t threatened to hurt me or the people I love yet doesn’t mean that he won’t. Until I ate the bad tarts, I got the impression he would have happily kept me imprisoned until I gave in, no matter how long it took. If he decides to use Leesa or my mother against me, I’m not sure what I’ll do. Or Sterling, for that matter.

I may end up needing to flee Tirene after all.

Sterling keeps his calm demeanor focused on the hall ahead of us as he offers me his arm. At the door, he unfurls his wings and I follow suit.

As we exit the palace and ascend into the warm sunshine, the oddity of the dragons’ palpable yet unreachable presence unsettles me. Their consciousnesses circle the periphery of my range. Close enough to sense but too far to connect.

I hold back the questions teeming at the edge of my thoughts. Where have they been? What were they doing? Has Dame clutched yet? There will be time enough for answers. Maybe if they see me out and about, they will return.

Sterling and I glide a short distance through the azure expanse before he leads me down to a secluded spot by a gurgling creek. When we land near the bank, I spin a slow circle and start to frown, despite the spot’s serene beauty. I enjoy the sun sparkling on the rushing water and the yellow and blue explosion of wildflowers as much as the next person, but I have no idea why we stopped here.

Reading my expression correctly, Sterling clears his throat. “I wanted to talk to you in private. That day you ran. I figured out afterward that it was at least partly because of the dragons. Was that all of it though? I know you blame me for what’s happened to your family. You’re in this predicament because of me. My only excuse is that you were in danger with King Xenon. And I knew you’d been kidnapped as child, even if you didn’t, and that the woman who raised you essentially held you hostage in your own castle. I wanted to help you free yourself. But then everything got twisted.”

His words shatter the walls I’ve built. Despite the wrongheaded way she went about it, Mother did her best to protect me from Xenon. Sterling did the same.

Have I forgiven them? Truly forgiven them?

“I started to wonder, that day, if that was what had happened. And I forgive you. I think I forgave you then and was just waiting to hear you say it.”

He shudders. “Thank the gods, because I don’t know what I’d do if you said no, apart from vowing to spend the rest of my days earning your forgiveness.”

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