Page 22 of Court of Secrets and Flames

“Of course. It’s dragon’s blood.”

My face must relay my disgust because the king chuckles. The humor softens his stern features, erasing years and giving him a more boyish appearance.

Quickly, I refocus on the contents of my goblet. I don’t trust the transformation, and I don’t trust him. Anything that humanizes him is to be avoided at all costs.

“Not real dragon’s blood, of course. It’s the name of a popular Tirenese liqueur.”

My fingers tighten around the stem as I battle the urge to toss the contents in his face. Not because he deliberately provoked my reaction—though I’m sure he did—but because his manipulations only serve to remind me of that bullshit test with the dragons.

Good thing I left the short sword in my room. Otherwise, the Tirenese might have a legitimate reason to execute me: regicide.

With a pained smile, I take a sip, and the fruity liquid warms my throat. “I was just about to find something to drink. This is delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He places his hand on the small of my back, steering me toward the dais where a cluster of nobles chatter away. “I’d like to tell you a tale, if you’ll indulge me.”

Like I have a choice.

My throat tightens with apprehension. “Of course.”

We step up on the dais, and conversations fall silent when the king speaks.

“Nearly two decades ago, a loyal Tirenese couple close to my father had a child, a beautiful baby girl.”

Jasper pauses to sip his drink while an alarm rings in my head. Whatever his reason for dragging me up here with him, I bet I’m not going to like it.

“The little girl was beloved by her family, but when she turned four, tragedy struck. On what proved to be an awful day in Tirenese history, an enemy kingdom stole the girl from her home. Her father was killed in the attack, and she was believed to be dead.”

While he pauses for effect before the spellbound audience, I suck in a pained breath for the father I don’t remember. Was he a good man? Strong? Kind? Apart from this brief history of how he died, I know nothing about the man who created me…or my biological mother, for that matter. She could be in Tirene as we speak. One of the rapt faces here in the castle tonight. Or I could have other family here. Although if any of them are in attendance, they certainly haven’t come forth to claim me.

Jasper prolongs the drama, dragging the story out a little longer. “Still, we never gave up hope. With the assistance of my brother, we continued searching and discovered that King Xenon was hunting for a girl of Tirenese descent with specific abilities. Imagine our surprise and fury to learn that ourkingdom’s stolen child was indeed alive and living in Aclaris. At Flighthaven, of all places.”

Boos and hisses follow that announcement, and the weight of far too many eyes sears into me. I shift in my seat and fix my attention on the king’s profile, silently urging him to get to the point already.

Eyes glittering, King Jasper raises his hand to silence the room. “They tried to take her from us, and after this morning’s demonstration, you all know why. But we prevailed. Their wicked king believed they could steal our power and use our own magic against us, but we proved them wrong. There’s only one true home for a dragoncaller, and that’s right here! In Tirene!” The table rattles as people begin to bang their fists. “Everyone, please join me in celebrating the woman beside me’s triumphant return home, not only as Tirene’s lost daughter, but as the first dragoncaller in centuries!”

Cheers and clapping erupt. People leap to their feet. All in all, the attention makes me want to crawl under the table.

The king turns to me, raising my hand in the air with a secretive smile that stirs an uneasy feeling in my gut.

He does nothing to hide his satisfaction in the crowd’s response, but what’s bothering me is that I get the impression he’s holding something back. Something big.

Maybe I’m wrong. If I’m not, I just hope whatever he’s hiding doesn’t have the ability to turn all of our lives upside down.

Chapter Six

Loud pounding jerks me awake.

I scrub a hand over my face and ease my legs over the side of the bed, wincing when my back twinges again. Clearly, my time in the arena didn’t help my injury any.

As I approach the door, the knocking grows impatient.

One of my guards addresses me from his post in the hall. “Lady Lark, you have a visitor.”

Is it morning already? And who could possibly be visiting? Am I being summoned again? People waking me from my sleep is becoming a habit. Thanks to the king’s little surprise announcement last night, it took me a long time to doze off. I feel about as spry as something regurgitated by a dragon.

I attempt to finger comb my hair, which is still halfway pinned up from last night’s banquet. I couldn’t muster the motivation to let it down before collapsing into bed. “Come in.”

The door pushes open as I rub my eyes.

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