Page 147 of Ash and Feather

I braced myself for the king’s command to leave.

It never came.

Instead, Fallon said, “I want to speak with her alone.”

My stomach flipped.

Dravyn shifted his stance, angling his body more protectively in front of me. “Why alone?”

The king picked up the jeweled sheath again, giving it a once-over before leaning down and picking up the sword it was meant to cover.

“Because I’m intrigued by her,” he said, carefully sheathing the sword. “Anybody who could make my little brother come crawling to me for help must wield a significant amount of power and persuasion, indeed. And I don’t want you or your temper interfering with our conversation.”

“This isn’t a game, Fallon.”

“You’ve forgotten much about palace life, it seems,” said Fallon, rising and stretching with an oddly casual grace. “Itisa game. But not one I intend to play recklessly. Don’t worry.”

I placed a hand on Dravyn’s arm, squeezing tight, trying to massage some of the tension from his muscles. “I’ll be fine,” I assured him.

He hesitated, no doubt thinking of the last time we’d split up.

It hadn’t exactly turned outfine.

But I survived that ordeal, for better or worse, and I would survive this one, too.

Dravyn didn’t protest as I stepped away from him, though he did say one last thing to his brother in a low voice…yet more words in their native language that I didn’t understand. Clearly a threat, this time; the air grew scorching hot as he spoke. The sunlight itself seemed to flicker.

Fallon looked uncomfortable for an instant but quickly recovered and gestured to the door. “Let’s step into my office across the hall,” he said to me.

I followed him, trying to ignore the way Dravyn’s magic swelled as he watched me go.

Stay calm,I thought—a reminder for both of us.

He didn’t reply. But nothing around me caught on fire, so I considered the situation stable for the moment.

Fallon left the door to his office slightly ajar. He walked to his desk against the back wall, but after a silent debate, decided against sitting down. He walked the edges of the room instead, gaze flitting about like a man taking inventory of all the books and other treasures he’d collected. Like he was afraid someone might try to steal them.

Or at the very least, knock them all down.

He eventually threw a glance back toward the room where we’d left Dravyn and asked, “What did you say to get him to come back to this palace?”

“You’re his brother. He’s wanted to come back here for a long time, I think, even if he would never admit it.”

Fallon snorted and moved toward the window, fiddling with the curtain ties, clearly not believing me. “He looked eager to leave the last time he was here—once he’d had his favor granted, anyway.”

“He told me youorderedhim to leave.”

The king parted the curtains. Ran his fingers over the window sill and lifted them, inspecting for dust. Several times he did this before wiping his hands on the leg of his trousers and saying, “I suppose I did.”

“You regret it?”

“I try not to regret much of anything, as a rule.”

Wouldn’t that be nice.

“But youdidtell him to leave and not come back?”

“I thought it would be simpler.”

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