Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(38)

“Your Highness!”

Tristan turned in the direction of the servant boy now hurrying toward him.

“A scroll arrived for Prince Zayne. Has he gone?”

“I am uncertain as to his current whereabouts, Timothy, but give me the scroll and I shall see that he receives it.”

“Yes, sire.”

He handed over the parchment, bowed, then hurried off. Tristan pocketed the scroll and continued on to the back staircase, away from the noise of castle life both inside and out. But the silence only amplified his growing spark of guilt. What if Zayne truly loved Adelaide? And what if Zayne was, in fact, innocent as his sister claimed?

No. He withdrew the scroll and tore it open with a growl. This was not the time to be plagued by regret, but rather the time to act. To strike, to—



…my sister warns that dark times are coming, my son. Return home, I beg of you. Before those within King Jarin’s own house seek in earnest his demise. Bring Adelaide if you must, but I implore of you, dearest son, return home this day…



Tristan’s jaw fell slack. Dark times? Whatever did the witch clan have in store for them? And who the bloody hell from his own family might be plotting against them?

“It is done, Your Highness.”

Tristan spun with a gasp. “Blackstone. I…did not hear you approach.”

“Have you received word from Rosalind, sire?”

Rosalind. Oh dear God, could that be to whom Queen Helena referred? A bone-deep chill ran through his body as Tristan followed Quinn’s gaze to the scroll fisted in his other hand.

“No, but…” He looked to his friend, the man he trusted above all others. “If I allow you to read this, do you swear to me you shall speak of it to no one?”

“Of course, sire.”

“Swear to me, Quinn. Not as your prince, but as your closest friend.”

Quinn met his gaze, his own taking on a dim red glow. “I swear to you, my friend. To the death.”

“Very well.”

Tristan handed over the parchment and watched Quinn’s face for a reaction. His eyes narrowed at first, then widened. Flashed to Tristan’s and back to the scroll.

“Do you believe the warning to be true?” asked Quinn.

“Aye. Queen Helena is an upright woman and highly respected—I see no reason to doubt her words. And as I have read scrolls sent by her in the past, I can say with utter confidence that this is indeed the queen’s handwriting.”

Quinn grimaced. “And the one it spoke of, the person within this very house who seeks your father’s demise?”

“The number in our family is four. As neither myself nor the king are conspiring against the crown, that leaves only Rosalind and Adelaide. Adelaide has nothing to gain by killing our father, but rather stands on the cusp of attaining her own kingdom through matrimony with Prince Zayne. But Rosalind…”

“Stands to gain no crown of her own, not while both you and Adelaide live.”

Tristan ran a hand through his hair, now damp with sweat. “Surely, she would not—”

“She longs to rule, sire. Craves the power which only ascension to a throne might bring.” Quinn cursed beneath his breath and began to pace before him.

“You fear she has become an ally of the witches? That she seeks to destroy us all?”

“I know not her plans, but if she has become an ally of the witches, none of us will be safe until either we steal her back or win the oncoming battle.” Quinn came to stand before him. “We cannot allow this battle to ensue, Your Highness.”

Tristan nodded. “Agreed. If she helps lead an attack on Forath Castle, we would have no choice but to defend ourselves. And in doing so, we might well harm my sister. Though if we could implore the wizard to whisk her away before the first shots have been fired, we—”

Quinn reached to grab Tristan’s shoulders. “There must be no war. While I have pledged to protect your family, there is another family to which I am also duty bound to protect: my own.”

“But, Blackstone—your family is dead and gone.”

“Or so I was led to believe.” Quinn dropped his arms and took a step back, his head bowed. “There are secrets I have hidden from you, Your Highness. Secrets I am no longer able to keep…”





Chapter 20





As the sun dipped to kiss the horizon, Rosalind set off toward the stream at the village’s edge. The air hung heavy with the smell of herbs growing in a nearby garden. She cast her gaze skyward and watched as thick clouds crept in from the west. It would rain before daybreak—the only certainty Rosalind had of how this night would pass.

According to Ella, who, with her gift of thought hearing, was also privy to Rosalind’s assignment, Jaxon had been seen only moments before headed in that direction. To bathe, no doubt, which was entirely unfortunate for Rosalind. How was she to use words as sufficient distraction to the prince when she might well find him naked? For as fine a specimen as he was with clothes on, to see him without might cause her to come undone in more ways than one.

What she did not expect to find as she came to the edge of the forest, however, was Jaxon with another woman, both naked and in the water. And, as he stood now with her long, straw-colored hair in his hands and pressing kisses to her neck, it was quite clear they were not there to bathe. Rosalind, an intruder on their moment of intimacy and filled with an unexpected ire, turned to go.