Page 37 of Lera of Lunos
Tye’s fire seeped into the cold marble floor of the throne room in which he and Lera knelt, the small release of magic the only way to keep his fury at bay.
“Let me see if I have this right.” Sitting cross-legged on the throne, Prince Xane leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. “King Griorgi and Prince River of Slait are currently burrowing a passage into Blaze Court in order to join forces with Mors’s Emperor Jawrar and take over Lunos?”
The ill-concealed laughter behind Xane’s voice escaped, echoing off the tapestry-covered walls of the throne room before dissolving into little gasping giggles. Rising to his feet, he strode down the three steps separating his dais from where Tye and Lera still kneeled. The prince was every bit as buffed and polished and ridiculous as Tye remembered, his silky strawberry-blond hair tied back in a low ponytail, topped with a tiny gold crown that mimicked the twisting, flame-like towers of the Blaze Royal Palace. His green eyes were lined with brown kohl to accentuate them, though perhaps he hoped no one noticed. His features were delicate—almost pretty—his muscles smooth and well-mannered. “Truly, Tyelor, you spin the most entertaining tales. Still, it is a pleasure to have you back.” The last was said with enough distaste to make Xane’s true feeling about Tye clear.
Tye shot Lera a silent warning to keep her mouth shut, though he could feel the lass trembling with indignation. This morning, he had helped her into the one fine dress she brought for this very occasion, a stunningly simple emerald-green silk that brought out the red in her hair and hugged her slim torso with a wide band of black lace, leaving her shoulders and clavicle temptingly bare. He had wished with every breath that Autumn were around for that part—but changed his mind as soon as he realized that helping her into a flowing dress meant getting to run his hands over her skin, to stand close behind her and inhale her heady lilac scent.
And yet it had all been for nothing, it seemed. The day wasnotgoing well. Despite arriving at the palace over six hours earlier and spelling out the problem in numerous notes, Xane had only now granted them an audience. Once the damn prince realized his error in having wasted precious time, there would be hell to pay—and Tye wanted Lera nowhere near Xane’s sights when that happened.
“This is neither jest nor tale, Your Highness.” Tye spoke coolly, though his hands tingled to wrap themselves around the bastard’s slender neck. For everything. “The king must be informed—”
“I’ll worry about the king. Come, let us speak like the old friends we are.” Xane extended his hand to Tye, as if the kneeling had been a formality of no consequence. “Have your say and leave.”
Rising to his feet, Tye offered a hand to Lera and followed the prince into a sitting room off the main hall, where deep leather chairs and shelves of books strived and failed to create an intimate atmosphere. If River’s library hosted his favorite reads and maps of Lunos, Xane’s was a decoration designed solely to impress. Books from top military strategists, histories of flex, designs for weaponry. All as untouched as the day they were purchased. Midafternoon sunlight fell in harsh stripes across the room through narrow defensive windows. No glass, as Blaze’s royals—nearly all with fire-magic affinities—could simply light fires in any hearth to keep the room warm.
Tye’s gaze fell on Xane’s Realm Championship trophy, displayed in a place of honor on a slim marble pedestal, a delicate lantern suspended right overhead—as if the prince had actually earned the title.
“Wine?” Xane asked, pouring a glass for himself from a crystal decanter and hesitating over Tye’s. His slim, bejeweled fingers looked like they hadn’t touched a horizontal bar in years. Nary a callus or chalk-filled crease in sight. “I apologize . . . After what happened, I hadn’t considered that you might be staying away from spirits. I indulge in a bit now and then, though the old training regimen does leave a shadow even still. I swear I hear my trainer’s voice each time I so much as smell fermenting grapes.”
If by “what happened,” you’re referring to the attack you ordered on my family so you could have a pretty trophy, then wine would be welcome.Tye bit his tongue. He could either spend the next hour butting heads with Xane about history—a debate that would most likely land him in the dungeon—or put the prince’s worries about Tye challenging his victory to rest and return to the matter at hand.
Tye drew a breath, forcing himself to stay calm. Xane controlled access to the king and Blaze Royal Guard. Without the prince’s agreement, there was no option. No way of preparing for tomorrow. “Wine would be well taken, Your Highness,” Tye said lightly, draining his glass and holding it out for a refill. “It has been a pleasure of mine for some time now. Apparently, some of us never learn reason.” Tye could feel the tension creeping into Lera’s shoulders at this without even looking at her. Silently, he willed her to keep her cool again. “About tomorrow’s Samhain celebration, did you read the letter I brought from Princess Autumn? Does it not confirm my warning?”
“Autumn? The little female with the roundest ass in Slait?” Xane smacked his lips. “While she would be more than welcome to tell me in person all about the scary monsters hiding in the Gloom, the letter just fails to get a proper rise out of me.” Xane shakes his head. “Tyelor, you know I’d do anything for you, but if I go to my father with these tales, he will laugh me out of the throne room. The Slait princess is known for her... What’s the word? Ah, theories. Not even King Griorgi takes the lass seriously.”
“The Citadel and Elders Council themselves take her seriously.” Tye checked himself. Hard. Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his thighs. He wasn’t here as Xane’s subject or old flex rival. He was here as one of the Citadel’s elite warriors, whether he wanted the title or not. “There were qoru in the assault on Karnish. I was there, and I am telling you that Jawrar has penetrated Blaze once already. And he will do it again.”
“Karnish. Yes.” Xane’s face darkened. “I’ve been diplomatically ignoring that incident. But since you bring it up, tell your damn Citadel council that if they stage games on Blaze’s territory again, we will consider it an act of war.” Xane stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Is that what this is about? The Citadel trying to turn Slait and Blaze against each other, to blame King Griorgi for the mess they caused in one of our border cities?”
Tye braced his hands on his armrests, fury roiling through him, but felt a cool hand on his before he could rise.
“Perhaps His Highness might question his patrols.” Lera’s voice of soft reason settled into the blazing air between the males. “Certainly, you’ve guards in the Gloom and elsewhere? If nothing else, it will keep the guards’ commander on his toes to know the prince is monitoring his work.”
Xane seemed to take in Lera for the first time with a growing smirk—her creamy skin and soft curves. Rising from his seat, he stepped forward and traced his finger along the girl’s cheekbone, making every muscle in Tye long to break the bastard’s hand for it.
Instead of biting Xane’s fingers off, Lera leaned into his touch for a moment before smiling at the prince and cutting her eyes to the door. “Have you a guardsman who’d answer your call, Your Highness?”
Xane threw back his head and laughed. “A coy little thing, aren’t you? Your companion would do well to take note.”
Trailing a nail across Lera’s collarbone, the prince strode to the door and spat out orders.
Stars, Lera was good. She may have just singlehandedly, in no more than four sentences, turned around their chances. And Tye would show her just how grateful he was later, when all this was over—something to focus his furious mind on before losing control entirely.
Moments later, a tall fair-haired male in a crisp burnt-red uniform strode into the sitting room, lowering to one knee before Xane quickly enough to conceal his look of contempt.
Xane glanced at Lera indulgently. “Leralynn, this is Captain Mullen, who’s in charge of Ferno’s security. Mullen, this wee human imagines that, after centuries of quiet, an attack from no less than Mors is hovering over our heads. Please assure her that you’ve noted nothing unusual.”
Mullen’s head snapped up, his face suddenly cautious enough to make Tye tense. The male’s fear filled Tye’s nose.
28
Tye
Tye’s eyes sharpened, the scent of the guard captain’s fear eroding the last strands of patience he had for the prince.
“Are you asking me to expand on my reports, sir?” Mullen asked carefully, blanching at the flash of confusion on Xane’s face. Stars, the prince had read no reports and Mullen knew it. Knew, too, who Xane would ensure got blamed for his own oversight. The captain cleared his throat. “There have been four incidents, Your Highness. An increase in sclices, piranhas, and other Mors scum—as if they have a new passageway. In light of the recent Karnish activity, I have people on alert. We’ve asked for additional personnel.”
Lera gripped Tye’s arm. “Griorgi may have opened small passages in preparation or practice for the assault. It would explain the increase in Mors rodents.”
