Page 69 of The Dragon's Captured Heart
Deciding it would be better to tell her and be kicked out than it would be to leave important words left unsaid, I tried the door handle. It swung open smoothly.
I smiled. Maybe I had a chance after all. If she hadn’t locked the door, then maybe—
The room was empty.
My smile faded as I looked around, noting the perfectly arranged furniture, towels visible in the bathroom hung with perfectly creased sides. A look into the bathroom revealed sheets that hadn’t been touched since the last time the bed was made up.
Standing in the center of the room, I took a long, deep breath in through my nose.
All I smelled was sterile cleanliness. Absolutely no trace of Madison. It was as if she had never been here.
But the quartermaster was under the impression she was …
Leaving the room, I jogged down the hallways, looking for the quartermaster.
“She’s not there,” I said.
He frowned. “Then maybe she’s out.”
“No, you’re not following me,” I growled. “She wasneverthere.”
“What?” The older dragon looked visibly surprised.
“The room is perfect. Untouched. Nobody has been in that room in days.”
He shrugged. “I was told the human woman would be staying there. What do you want me to say?”
I bit back a snarl of anger. “Did you ever see her? Talk to her or come across her? It’s been three days. She’s human. You would notice that.”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t. I’m only one dragon, and I don’t make it a policy to intrude on guests. Many of them are important people visiting from other places in the Isles. They value privacy.”
That time, I did snarl. It wasn’t the quartermaster’s fault. He was just doing his job. If he’d been told she was there, why wouldhe think otherwise? There had been no reason to suspect Cleye of lying.
Why did Cleye lie, then?
“Thanks for your time,” I said, abruptly taking off down the hallway, my booted feet pounding on the stone floor as I headed back to the area of the palace where the guards’ quarters were.
Cleye had lied to me, and I needed to find out why. There didn’t seem to be any good reason for it. In fact, I could come up with one very, very bad reason.
I prayed I was wrong, but something told me I wasn’t.
The hammer-blows I levied against his door shook the heavy wood loudly in its frame.
“Open up, Cleye!” I bellowed, bits of wood splintering. “Right now!”
Doors began opening up in the hallway, heads poking out.
“Who knows where Cleye is?” I roared. “Is he on duty?”
“No,” someone answered from three doors down. “We just got off shift.”
I didn’t wait to hear more. Trying the door, I found it locked.
Not for long.
My boot shattered the lock, the door flying inward, with me right behind it. In the hallway, guards exited their rooms, and shouts of surprise followed the commotion.
It was empty. Nobody was where they were supposed to be.
