Page 21 of Wrath of the Dragons
“I don’t know.” She purses her lips. “But I’m never against testing a theory.”
“I appreciate your support in my endeavors.”
My basket continues to fill—pastries, a new book, a golden ring shaped like a dragon curling around my finger, hair chains and jewels, spices I’d like to use while baking…and oils. The snow isn’t what makes me shiver when I think of the red, raised skin on Cayden’s back. He mentioned that his shoulder didn’t heal correctly, and I wonder if the lash marks also ache. No matter how much he hurt me, if there is something I can do to alleviate his pain, I’ll do it.
We pass through a series of booths each selling specific crystals, candles, and carvings to decorate limbs or altars dedicated to the ten sleeping gods. Many ladies huddle together while deciding on which pink amethyst necklace or bracelet dedicated to the Goddess of Love, Marriage, and Fertility complements them. A more antsy crowd gathers around the table dedicated to the Goddess of Souls, who I’ve learned also presided over mercy and destiny, and I can practically feel their anxiety and desperation as they grasp lapis lazuli tokens. Swordswith pommels encrusted in bloodstone are swung as people gather around the God of War and Strategy’s booth, but the Goddess of Grief and Sorrow’s is overlooked, the tourmaline towers remaining untouched within the gray drapes.
“What’d you buy, love?” Cayden asks as I approach, pulling the smoke from his lips and grinding it into the cobblestones before withdrawing a tin of mint leaves from his pocket.
“You didn’t need to do that.”
“It’s not healthy for you to breathe it in.”
“Then why were you smoking?”
“You told me I have to be nicer.” He juts his chin to where Ryder and Finnian are giggling beside him, lost in their own conversation. “I needed something to do with my mouth so I didn’t insult them.”
I hide my smile behind my hand and respond to his earlier inquiry, “I bought copious amounts of alcohol to get me through this betrothal.”
“Cheers to that.” He transfers the heavy basket to his hand. “Do you need more money?”
“I thought of a rather simple solution once I ran out.” I glide closer and stare up at him like a besotted betrothed. “I signed your name to all my bills.”
“You could’ve signed yours,” he says, unfazed by what I’ve just revealed.
“I don’t have any accounts here.” I don’t have any accounts at all. Ailliard controlled my money. I kept a small tin under my bed in case of emergencies after he didn’t loan me anything when Finnian needed medicine, but whatever I earned went into his pocket. He told me it was used for the people of Aestilian, but I don’t know what to believe anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent it on himself.
“Wedo.” He pushes off the wall, dropping his face closer to mine. “I added you to all of mine.” My mind feels as if it’s trudging through thick syrup as I process his words. “I’m not changing it so don’t bother arguing. When we ride to war, I need to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me.”
I dryly swallow. Images of Cayden being captured or killed dance along to a morbid ballad within my thoughts. “That’s not—You don’t have—”
“I’m very hard to kill, El. Put it out of your mind for now.” He begins leading me through the market again. “But if you keep looking at me like that then I’ll be silent while you spend whatever you wish.”
I bite my lip, wrapping my hand around his arm and resting my head on his bicep. “All I have to do is smile and you’ll let me drain your accounts?”
“Breathing works just fine.”
I don’t bother hiding my laughter since so many eyes are on us. Pushing ahead of him, I step toward a blue booth and accept a dish filled with sweet buns stuffed with savory pork before leading him over to the fountain at the center of the circle that the stone carvers have finished crafting. Both staggering in height and intricately designed, it looks like five dragons taking flight around a set of crossed swords with a crescent moon at the top.
The fountain in the castle’s entrance hall that resembled the Dasterian oak was also replaced with a similar design. Dark blue flags atop the sharp spires billow in the wind as my dragons fly around them, and Cayden dusts some snow off the stone before guiding me to take a seat. He pulls me close, and I soak in his warmth while handing him the dish.
He chuckles. “Have you changed your mind already?”
“They’re for you.”
His brow is furrowed like my gesture perplexes him. “What?”
“You were in meetings all day.” I fold my hands in my lap after he accepts the food. “You forget to eat sometimes.” His fingers cease running along my arm, and he’s silent for so long that I force myself to look up at him. “I can get you something else if you don’t like it.”
“No.” He clears his throat, and his eyes soften as he drops them to the food. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
I relax against him, throwing my legs over his lap and resting my head on his shoulder. The lack of sleep must be catching up to mebecause the steady beat of his heart makes my eyelids grow heavy. We may sleep in the same bed, but it’s torturous. We stay on opposite sides, and I don’t let myself succumb to exhaustion, not trusting myself to keep my hands off him in my unconscious state. I’ve even taken to napping on Basilius’s back while flying.
“We’ll return to the castle after this,” he says.
I nod, trailing my fingers along the golden dragons circling the cuff of his sleeve. He’s never cared for fanciful garb, dressing more like an assassin than a king, but it helps that one of our house colors is black. He always looks well put together but will never be the type of man to wear obnoxious fabrics and tight pants after the favored fashion of the wealthy. I prefer him this way, though. I don’t want him to change his appearance. I love his scars, and the intensity of his eyes, and the messy waves that brush his forehead and the tops of his ears. He looks like a dark dream took on a human form.
My eyes drift around the colorful tents and the people dressed in decadent coats as they browse. Children smile at the enchanted objects, women walk arm in arm with their friends, and men trail behind their sweethearts with arms filled with purchases. Snow continues falling, collecting on my lashes and the ice that surrounds the perimeter of the fountain. I’m about to ask Cayden if we can stop for some mulled wine on our way back to the castle, but the hair rises on the back of my neck as my spine stiffens.No.The food I ate earlier threatens to make a reappearance as I squeeze my eyes shut, but a blue pair I’d know anywhere burn behind my lids. Ailliard is looking right at me with a hatred I never noticed until he betrayed me.
