Page 54 of Dragon Unleashed

“Think you can take over my army, princess? Think that a few measly hours pretending to be a soldier will make up for years ofmilitary training? How dare you try to seduce my men with tales of your mother. Onlyhalfof you is Mael!”

Of all the idiotic assumptions… The men kneeling cast confused glances at each other.

“Control your temper, young man,” Silas says.

The leader of the soldiers peers at me for the longest moment before climbing to his feet and gesturing for his men to do the same.

“You should know better than to betray me,” Farrell spits at Silas, fire sparking from his fingertips.

He’s got completely the wrong idea. Farrell’s irises shine golden, and his pupils are vertical slits. Dammit, his dragon is close to the surface. A flick of his wrist sends a fireball straight for Silas.

Without thinking, I slip between the two men and raise my aether.

I’m too late. The ends of my hair sizzle and heat blasts my face before my shield slams into place. Frantically I pat the smoking ends. Hellfire, half a second later and I’d have been fried.

“Stop this insanity.” I stare Farrell down. “None of these soldiers knew my mother’s name until you announced it.”

Farrell’s eyes widen and a crinkle appears in the middle of his brow. Slowly his pupils dilate to normal.

Silas grips my shoulders and shakes me, hard.

“Young woman, I would thank you to remember I do not need your protection. Do not ever put yourself in danger to protect me. Or any soldier.” He catches himself, takes a deep breath, and turns to the group of confused men at his back. “You heard it from Farrell himself. This is Lorelei Bal, daughter of Irena Mael, princess royal.”

I expect them to laugh. Instead, as a unit, they sink to their knees, heads pressed to the ground. What the actual fuck? I turn to Silas, who gestures for them to rise.

Nothing.

“Not necessary. Please, get up,” I splutter. “Uh…rise.”

They stand slowly, keeping their eyes on the ground.

“At ease, soldiers,” Farrell barks. “You will forget this conversation, and Miss Bal’s heritage. That is a direct order.”

Silas raises a single eyebrow before addressing his men. “Today’s exercise is complete. Return to barracks. I expect you here at seven hundred hours tomorrow for the second exercise. You too, Lorelei. Dismissed.”

Farrell falls in behind the soldiers without so much as a shrug in my direction. Talk about an anticlimax. Why I expected an apology from Farrell… I should know better. We trudge back through the forest toward the campus. My hair is disgusting, definitely no longer the trademark white of the Maels. It’s tinged with swamp-green water and frazzled at the ends instead. I squelch on, traipsing behind the soldiers, with Farrell and Silas a few paces back.

The closer the warm showers get, the more the tiredness seeps into my bones. We’ve been at this for seven hours. My limbs are heavy and the place where my magic should be is a gnawing empty hole. We hit the path and, as the soldiers head toward the portal, one of them shoulders into me. He glares daggers and marches off without a word. What the hell is his problem?

I’m so done with people for today.

It’s not until I start stripping off my sodden clothes that I find it. The sneaky fucker. He knocked into me deliberately. I wriggle the half-soaked note from my pocket and peel it apart. The ink is smudged in the upper corner, but it’s mostly legible.

…sure you share our concerns about the Virrey. By its nature this concern extends to his son. We could get behind another leader. A royal one.

Oh hell no. My mind whirs. Rather than the luxurious shower I’d been imagining, I’m in and out in two minutes flat. I yank ona cami top and my pajama pants and take off down the corridor. There’s no answer at Farrell’s door. He better be in Zephyr’s room. This can’t wait.

When Zephyr’s door finally swings open and I see Farrell perched on the edge of his desk, I heave a sigh of relief.

“Thank the goddesses you’re here,” I say, shouldering past Zephyr.

“Nice to see you too,” Zephyr says behind me, shutting the door. He looks me up and down. “Get dressed in a hurry? It a bit cold out there?”

Crap. My nipples are like coat hooks in this top. I cross my arms over my chest. Zephyr grins easily before tossing me a wool cardigan.

“Thanks, it’s, uh, trendy.”

He rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Naeve.”

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