Page 3 of Court of Secrets and Flames

The casual display of magic serves as a swift kick to the gut. A reminder of how I trusted this man with my body and heart, all while he deceived me.

The time and intimate moments we shared together meant nothing to him. I was a mission. Nothing more.

My heart fractures, and I shove the anguish that threatens to smother me into a box and lock it away. The horrible ache in my chest incapacitates me more than fear of an unknown fate. I need to remain sharp, but maintaining my wits proves an impossible task with the tangled mess of ugly emotions trying to suffocate me.

“I never really knew you at all,” I murmur.

Something resembling regret flashes across his face. The flicker vanishes so fast that I’m sure I imagined it. His brow furrows as a tall, lean man with short, sandy-brown hair and soft brown eyes joins the growing group of Tirenese soldiers. He’s not wearing a tabard like most of the troops filing out of the palace to meet us. He’s dressed like the soldiers we flew in with.

Sterling—no,Knox’s—eyes light up. His shoulders loosen as he reaches out to clasp the man’s forearms. “Blair Jameson, it’s good to see you.”

They clap each other on the back in the man-version of a hug.

“Good to have you back,” Blair casts me a wary glance and returns his attention to the prince, “Your Highness.”

Sterling waves his hand and scowls. “Quit with the formalities. We’re not in court.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t miss the title in your absence,” another voice chimes in from somewhere behind me. “How’d it feel being a regular person during your time in Aclaris?”

I half turn toward the speaker. On the flight here, I learned that the broad-shouldered man with the piercing blue eyes andred-brown hair tied back with a leather cord is Agnar Kerrin. Faint freckles dust his handsome, battle-scarred face.

Something about him strikes me as familiar, though I’m certain I’ve never met him before today.

All three men watch me with varying degrees of concern, but if they’re waiting for me to fall apart, they’d better prepare to stand there all day. I straighten my shoulders. No way will I cower or show them how rattled I am.

Sterling’s jaw flexes. “It was…different. Refreshing at times to be a flight instructor with no responsibilities beyond ensuring that barely competent Aclarians survived training.”

My eyes narrow.Barely competent? What a jackass.

Gritting my teeth, I pivot away from the men before I say something stupid and study the architecture instead. The towers rise with a grace that defies their sturdiness, crowned with elegant spires. Intricate carvings depicting scenes of Tirene history decorate the windows and doors, their legends etched into the very stone.

I inch closer. The carvings tell a story. In one scene, a dragon and a magnificent bird with fiery wings fight in a battle side by side.

Callused fingers brush my arm. I jump to find Sterling standing beside me.

He nods at the scene. “Legend says phoenixes were the most powerful creatures ever to live. Other than the gods, of course.”

My blood boils over his unmitigated gall and cooks my common sense. “Let me get this straight. You lie to me, betray me, abduct me, and take me to an enemy kingdom, and you’re seriously going to stand there and give me a history lesson like nothing happened?”

Behind us, one of his friends coughs as if attempting to hide a laugh.

Sterling ignores my outburst and continues with his impromptu lesson. “Phoenixes were sacred. So revered that attempting to harm one was an offense punishable by death. The gods don’t always see eye to eye, but that was one thing they agreed on.”

I study the carvings, intrigued despite myself. The clatter of approaching boots interrupts my inspection and reminds me of my predicament. Ice freezes my veins.

What’s going to happen to me? To Leesa? Is my sister even here, or was that yet another lie to keep me in line?

In this strange city, everything is crafted for those with wings. Wide avenues, high rooflines, and very few external ground floor doors. Even the walls have an ethereal quality, despite their lack of escape routes. I would never get over them before getting caught again.

I have no hope of outrunning the winged Tirenese. No ready escape route…not that I’d know where to go if I found one. As long as King Xenon wants me, I’m not sure anywhere in Aclaris is safe. Flighthaven is definitely a no-go, and Castle Axton would be out of the question even if my mother hadn’t betrayed me.

I can’t stay here yet have nowhere to go. And even if I did, Tirene likely holds the answers to my mysterious past. If I flee too soon, I might squander my one and only chance to learn more about my biological family and heritage.

That reality sends dual waves of excitement and fear crashing over me.

A veritable mountain of a man with short tawny hair approaches, leading a gaggle of armored guards, each sporting the tabard embroidered with four dragons. That’s all I can make out as the group draws closer and Agnar and Blair step back.

The tabard-wearing guards circle us, forming a wall of flesh and muscle.

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