Page 71 of Earth Dragon
She gave it some real thought and slowly replied, “To be alone. To be locked away… Out of sight, out of mind.”
“You must have not been happy about coming here then?” he asked mildly.
“Not that sort of locked away,” she said. “Locked in a cell. Or a box… Forgotten.”
“A box?” Sir Patrick asked from behind them, but someone shushed him.
They had reached the center of the courtyard and Ewan stopped to face her. The rest came to a halt as well, and she felt surrounded, observed. They were putting their faith in her in ways she did not deserve, no matter that the outcome of events was linked to her blood. They could have refused her. They could have locked her in her rooms and decided to try a plan that was less volatile because it did not involve a traitor.
“What is your greatest flaw?” he asked.
She remembered one of their earlier conversations, when she had used that very question to try and make him open up to her. She smiled then, as he seemed to have listened during their short lesson. He returned it, knowing why the expression was crossing her face.
“My impatience,” she said. “I’ve always found that I have a difficult time focusing on other people, as though they don’t interest me.”
“Or because you fear you will not interest them?” he asked gently. She stared at him. His smile widened, and he reached up a hand, brushing a stray lock out of her face. “I’m an overthinker,” he said. “And I remember everything. It was only a matter of time before I figured you out.”
She smiled then, looking around at those surrounding her.
She wanted to belong. That was her dream. Being excluded and rejected was what she feared most. And she had to overcome it now, had to stop thinking of herself as undeserving of the faith of others. Had to put faith in herself the way no one ever had. Her father’s orders and expectations had been nothing but stifling all of these years, suffocating her will right out of her.
This was her purpose—to reconnect with her own sense of direction, her own internal compass, and stop listening to that voice inside her head. Because that voice was holding her back and it did not belong to her. It belonged to her father.
There was the sensation of a river running between her fingers, waters cascading forth and she laughed, opening her hand to look at the crystal.
“Blood magic is notoriously difficult to control,” Maize said.
“But my blood is strong,” Shannon stated. “It’s my mother’s blood just as much as it is my father’s. My mother will be there with me.”
Ewan smiled, nodding his agreement, knowing what those words truly meant to her.
The bell tolled again, and it got them moving.
Across the courtyard, up to the gate. It opened by a young guard who saluted them, thinking they were simply taking a stroll in the forest when really, they were about to go determine the future of the four kingdoms.
Chapter 17 - Ewan
He wondered if the kings felt as cold as he did. There was a sense of something missing within him. He wondered how his father was fairing, but he did not need to wonder long. As the group entered the Pavilion, he could hear his father’s voice. He had not expected him to be there, though perhaps he should have. It seemed Lord Taggart was always three steps ahead.
Ewan stayed by Shannon’s side as they made their way to the center of the Pavilion, while the others scattered and disappeared among the potted plants.
There were no servants in the Pavilion yet. The final touches to the space had yet to be made, but it was still too early for any workers to be taking up space. It was a small blessing. They would not have to worry about hurting innocents.
Because he had a feeling this would get ugly before it was over.
He felt ready to shift, to step before the lord in dragon shape and issue a challenge. They should duel to death. The lord might have magic, but Ewan trusted his inner dragon like he barely trusted himself. There was power and grace and ancient wisdom within him, and he drew on that strength now. Let it calm him.
He felt like stomping his feet and charging the man once he came into view.
This bastard who had made Shannon’s life a living nightmare.
This upstart, who wished to spread his chaos everywhere.
“Taggart,” Ewan said loudly, Shannon jerking in surprise. “Release my father.”
The king was sitting on a chair, arms and legs tied, his crown askew. His magic was gone, that much was clear, and the lord was enjoying himself.
“Just you wait,” the lord said. “We will soon be joined by those that would wish to celebrate this moment of victory, my prince. And when they arrive your father will be hailed as the last of a bygone era.”
