Page 60 of The Dragon Queen

“I will. A queen at the burial of your family will convey just how serious the crown takes this crime.”

“And then you’ll have to go to the burials in Tharfield and Cantlyn as well, otherwise you’ll be accused of showing us too much favour.” Another forehead kiss and again, it wasn’t the one that I needed. “I’ll be gone for a few days at the most and be back in time for us all to march out towards Harlston.”

My arms went around Flynn and I clung tightly, knowing this wasn’t the right thing to do to a man still grieving, and yet I couldn’t seem to stop. I needed to put on a brave front, to be a comfort to him, though he hugged me right back.

“And missing you desperately every damn day. I can admit it here, can’t I?”

“You must,” I replied through gritted teeth.

“Then I will. While in dear old Skane, I’ll spend far too much time composing terrible poetry about you and then read you every line when we are reunited.” I found myself laughing, despite the tears forming in my eyes. We pulled back and stared into each other’s eyes. “It will be awful, but I think…” His fingers slid down my cheek. “It will help me bear this.”

“Bad poetry and good beer.” Ged slung an arm around Flynn’s shoulders, giving the other rider a rough hug. “C’mon, plotting the destruction of Harlston is thirsty work, and the pub is calling.”

“We’re going out?” I asked.

“The wing did win the competition fair and square,” Draven replied, “though the places riders drink at may be no place for a lady, let alone a queen.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t go.” Soren scrubbed at his face. “I’ll be up early with the final year cadets, taking them through the explosive manoeuvres.” He smiled at me. “A quiet night in our quarters. We could pretend like this whole awful situation had never happened.”

“Except we can’t.” How had I missed the brittle tension in Brom? I called him husband, but I was only seeing the lines in his face now. “There’s no going back, so let’s head down to the pub. The other wings will be waiting, and it’ll be good for morale to have their king drinking with them.” He nodded at me. “Their queen too.”

“Perhaps we should change the venue.” Ged looked me over with concern. “The Dragon and the Flame is probably a little… earthy for a queen-in-waiting to be seen frequenting.”

“Then I won’t be a queen.” I tore off the clothes I’d been given, my hands hovering over the chest at the end of my bed before pulling out my father’s old clothing. I swept my now short crop of hair back and under a tweed flat cap, then donned the shirt, pants and jacket. “I’ll just be one of the lads.”

“If you think you are fooling anyone…” Brom drew closer, pushing one stray curl behind my ear before bestowing that small smile of his on me. The divorce papers felt like they were burning a hole in my jacket, ready to burn the bond between us up. “No lad ever looked as fair as you.”

I wanted to know what he was seeing, thinking. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but of course, there was no time.

“Well, if we’re going, then we better be off,” Soren replied.

“I’ll drink beer and belch and leer at a barmaid’s tits like the best of them,” I assured Brom, and I would too. Anything to maintain the facade of just another lad having a drink as I quizzed him about what madness possessed him to sign those documents.

Chapter 29

I now understood why Ged had reservations.

The noise was what hit me first. Men talking, shouting, singing along to the band that was playing a merry jig in the corner. Some even lumbering to their feet and dancing around in time with the song, pulling barmaids away from their work to join them. Feet slammed down on the wooden floor, sending reverberations through every single one of us, both from the dancers spinning around and the seated stamping in time with the beat.

Dancing was the more wholesome entertainment people were engaged in.

A shriek heralded the fact that a girl was pulled down into the lap of a rider and my hand went to my belt, seeking my knife, just in time to see her flush prettily and then smile at him. I knew what she was feeling. Overpowered, yet deliciously so, if her heavy-lidded gaze was anything to go by. The man gave a growl and then lunged forward, kissing her lips. She struggled to keep pace with his passion, his mouth moving lower, burning a trail down her neck. I knew how that felt too. Remembering that, feeling stubble or beards brushing against my skin as I writhed beneath them, had me looking away abruptly.

Not that there was much relief to be found elsewhere.

Men drank, ate, and made merry, often with the women that worked here, and why not? We would march out to war within the week and there were no guarantees that we would survive to tell tales of our valour. That had me refocussing my attention back where it was needed, on them.

“I assume that when you came here before you didn’t stand in the doorway, waiting for an invite?” I asked.

“No—” Ged was about to say.

“Ged!” Several riders got to their feet and held up tankards with a hopeful look. “Come and have a drink, you big bastard!”

“You can go if you like.” My cheeks burned hot when I realised how high handed that sounded. “Not that you need my permission. After all, you were the conquering heroes today.”

“Then I know exactly how I want to celebrate my victory.”

Flynn gave me no warning, swooping in and slinging me over his shoulder before walking out into the pub. Men cat called as we passed, casting all sorts of aspersions on his character and mine so that by the time Flynn deposited me in a booth, I was completely flustered. I’d been forced to grip my cap lest it fall off and I tugged it low now, unable to cope with the attention we were now getting.

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