Page 86 of A Thieving Curse

She blinked back her tears.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She tightened her grip on him, wishing she had the words to express how much it meant that he’d looked and how much it had hurt to leave him without a goodbye. “Thank you for trying,” was all she could get out, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

Prescott sighed. “Your Graces, we must move this along. Her Grace should be presented to His Excellency and His Royal Highness immediately.”

Raelyn released Gareth and stepped back. “Sir Prescott, perhaps I could bathe first? And maybe eat? I’m afraid I don’t have a change of clothes—”

“Your parents left your clothing,” Prescott said. “And you’re right; you should look presentable.”

He led them back upstairs and commanded Peter to accompany them into the palace. Raelyn told Gareth a summary of her story as they crossed the courtyard—that she was captured by a gigantic dragon, kept a prisoner in a cave, and managed to escape after weeks of fearing for her life. How she’d wandered the mountains until Patrick, as they had dubbed Peter in their story, helped her reach the palace.

Gareth listened, his eyes stormy. When she finished, he cursed. “I’m going to hunt that dragon down and kill it.”

“No!” She grabbed his arm and Gareth looked at her, concerned. “I—I can’t lose you again. I feared the manticore may have killed you and Mother and Father, and I can’t go through that worry again.” She swallowed. “Our parents…I heard they returned to Eynlae.”

Gareth nodded. “They should be here any day. With…Elena.”

“I heard. I can’t believe…”

“The Rethalis were insistent,” Gareth muttered.

Prescott turned her over to a female servant and had a male servant escort Gareth. Raelyn thanked Peter before the serving woman led her away. As Peter and the steward left to speak with Henry, her last connection to Alexander was severed. She bit her tongue and hid her emotion as she followed the servant down carpet-lined halls to a luxurious two-room suite.

Both rooms had an ornate rug on the floor and tapestries on the walls, and the bedroom boasted three tall stained-glass windows and a four-poster bed with a mountain of pillows.

Raelyn had never been so happy to take a bath and be waited on hand and foot in her life. As physically and emotionally exhausted as she was, servants bringing her food and helping her bathe, do her hair, and dress was a welcome relief from weeks of working in the cave.

After she ate, an older servant woman escorted her through the labyrinthine hallways of the palace until they stopped before a set of double doors.

“They’re waiting for you, Your Grace,” the woman said with a curtsy, then departed.

Raelyn smoothed the skirt of her lavender gown, stood tall and regal, and opened the doors.

29

THE SMALL CHAMBER was empty of furnishings, save for a red carpet and a modest throne on a little dais, occupied by a man in his late forties. Golden light poured through three tall windows with intricate geometrical iron work along the side wall, and the air smelled faintly of roses. Steward Prescott stood with Gareth, who had shaved and changed, in the center of the room. Gareth offered Raelyn a relieved smile.

She evaluated Henry as she walked to Gareth’s side. He had a short beard and wore a crimson tunic. A gold crown rested on his dark hair. Raelyn felt a stab of anger as she approached Alex’s uncle, but she shoved it down and looked to Henry’s right at the younger, clean-shaven man wearing a simple gold circlet.

Prince Tristan had a handsome face beneath wavy brown hair with features less chiseled than Alexander’s. She didn’t see any signs of the punches Gareth had thrown, but that had been weeks ago. Weeks that she had let Gareth spend in a cell. She pushed that thought away and focused on Tristan’s sharp brown eyes ringed with pale green. He was slightly shorter and stockier than Alex. They looked the same age, although at twenty-three Tristan was a couple years older.Stop comparing them,she scolded herself.

Raelyn stopped next to Gareth and curtsied low to the Rethali king.

“Rise, Princess Raelyn Argent of Eynlae,” King Henry said. She straightened. She’d almost expected him to have a horrible voice, but he sounded completely normal. “Tell us your story. I’d like to hear it from you.”

She repeated her tale, careful to look frightened or relieved when necessary and keep her heartbreak concealed. Henry’s eyes narrowed at the mention of a dragon, and she wondered with a stab of dread if she should have chosen another monster. But the fewer lies she had to remember, the better. Tristan watched her without a word or hint of emotion. She hoped he wasn’t always so stiff.

“I am pleased you have made it to us safely,” Henry said, his expression impassive. “I have rewarded Patrick and sent him on his way.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency. He was a most kind man.”

Henry strummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. “This dragon. Did it speak?”

She flinched and immediately berated herself. “No. It growled and snarled. If it was speaking, I couldn’t understand.”

Henry nodded slowly, watching her. She resisted the urge to fidget. “Dragons have been known to cast enchantments. Make people believe impossible lies, or even to do their bidding. Hopefully if the dragon couldn’t speak, he couldn’t enchant you. And the fact you’re here likely means you’re fine.” He looked to Gareth. “Still. Probably best to keep an eye out for any unusual behavior or odd claims. Might be a sign of an enchantment. I have a healer who can help if she says or does anything…outlandish.”

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