Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(41)

That was it! Maybe she could find something shiny, something reflective that could serve as a beacon to get his attention. She turned from the window and scanned the room, looking for anything that might work. Before she took a single step, though, a gust of wind blew in from behind her.

He heard me. Relief washed over Addie. She turned to face him and worked to keep her voice low. “Thank goodness you’re—”

Her words were cut off as a long black tail coiled around her like a python, then pulled her toward the window…and right on out. Constricted as she was, the scream in her chest had no room to build. Terrified, Adelaide was helpless to do anything but watch as her giant beastly captor shot into the air and away from the castle.





Chapter 22





Queen Helena traded her needlepoint for a cup of tea, and drew a long sip. She wished the piping-hot liquid would distract her and quell her growing worry. Why on earth had she not yet received word from Zayne, or have him appear before her? Had he not heeded her words of caution and instead cast the scroll aside without considering her urgent plea?

Alas, the tea had cooled and offered her little distraction at all. She returned her cup to the side table with a shaking hand. If something had happened to Zayne, if he were not able to bring her joy, to lighten the dreary days, life might well become unbearable. Robert would be furious, not at the loss of his son but of his heir apparent. And then what? Would he demand another child? Seek a woman who could provide him what Helena no longer could?

An unpleasant medley of emotions wove through her mind as she shifted her gaze to the nearest window. Helena had never desired to be queen, never wished to be anything other than a peasant’s beloved wife. To learn her family’s craft of healing and to care for others. Instead, she’d been swept into the world of royals after, by sheer happenstance, catching the eye of their future king.

And as she had grown to know so very well, whatever Robert wanted, Robert did indeed receive.

“Fetch me my wife.”

Her gaze narrowed at his voice echoing down the hall. She sounded no more valued than a pair of slippers or plate of food when he spoke of her in such a way. Perhaps in his mind, she had become worth little more. Resentment toward him, toward her lot in life, flared brightly within her chest.

“My queen.”

Thomasina appeared at her side, sheepish as ever.

“Yes, child. What is it?”

“A scroll for you, Your Majesty,” she whispered.

Relief washed over her. Helena cast a quick glance beyond her handmaiden to ensure no other servant was present, then took the offered scroll. “Does the king know of its arrival?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Let us keep it that way, shall we?”

“Yes, ma’am. Though the king does request your presence.”

“Aye. Please pass along to him that I will be there momentarily, once this row of stitching is complete.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Helena made quick work of the seal and unrolled the parchment, eager to read Zayne’s response. To her dismay, the script before her was not from her son but from Berinon.



Dearest Lena,

As I foretold upon our last encounter, strange alliances have been made among those with deadly plans in their hearts. Visit not the village of Weston, and you shall avoid injury. There are those who will attempt to turn you from me with lies and fear. Believe them not, for never would I seek to hurt or mislead you. To this truth, you must hold fast.

Your Loyal Servant,

Ber



Helena blinked away the heated tears that now blurred her vision. A heartfelt message from her oldest, dearest friend, but what did it all mean? Why would her sister’s people seek to tarnish his name?

Footsteps sounded in the hall outside her chamber, their pattern one she knew all too well. The queen rose from her seat and hurried to the fire. She hugged the scroll to her chest and whispered a pledge to do as the wizard had asked—to hold fast to his promises, his loyalty—then tossed both it and her needlepoint into the fire. Parchment and cloth were quickly consumed by the hungry flames, and Helena watched the Godfrey family crest she had been stitching melt away.

“You place your needlepoint above my request?”

The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the sound of Robert’s growl behind her. She bowed her head and issued a brief, silent prayer for courage.

“Forgive me, my king. It was a gift intended for you, and so I sought perfection.”

“Oh? And where is this gift?”

“Gone, sire.” Helena motioned toward the flames. “Ruined by a drop of tea, and so no longer worthy to be given.”

A hand came to rest upon her shoulder, its touch unexpectedly light. “Any gift from a devoted wife is one to be treasured, whether perfect or not.”

She turned to face him, riddled with guilt as always upon being caught in the presence of one man while thinking of another. His pronouncement of her being devoted to him only sharpened the sting.

“I shall remember that upon my next attempt, Your Majesty.”

“There was a time when such a concern worried not your fair head.” He took her hand and kissed it gently. “It seems I have been too harsh with you these past few weeks. Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, my husband.”