Shadow Wings (The Darkest Drae Book 2)(84)

The Drae’s voice trembled. “Thank you for this gift. It is priceless, and I will treasure our connection.”

My chest rose as some kind of warm, joyful sickness spread through me. “You’re welcome,” I whispered. I made tracks for the bathroom. I had a bath to take and an emerald to pry out of the wall, and both seemed something I should attend to immediately. I paused, though, halfway there. “Tyrrik, did you plan what you were going to say beforehand?”

“No, Khosana.” He’d turned on his side to watch me leave.

“Huh,” I mused. I guess some people just had a gift with words.



“How big is this place?” I whispered to Dyter. The old man knew a lot more about the realm than I did because of his talks with King Cal. Probably a good idea to learn as much as I could.

Dyter tilted his head toward me so our conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the gold guards trailing behind us. Thankfully, Tyrrik had been asleep when we snuck out, so a debate on his health wasn’t necessary.

“King Caltevyn told me the Gemond kingdom extends throughout this entire mountain range,” Dyter answered.

My eyes rounded. I’d seen how huge this range was from the air.

“They mine throughout the Gemond mountains, however,” he continued. “Not all of the area is inhabitable. This valley is where most of the population lives.”

I heard what he wasn’t saying, too. Out there wasn’t like in here. Well, we’d see about that.

The guards stopped in front of a set of gold-plated doors and drew them back, gesturing us through. Considering the grandeur of the palace, I’d expected to be led to a ballroom, something similar to Irdelron’s throne room with long tables overflowing with food. The room we entered was plain in comparison to our chambers. The walls were plain without the adornment of gems we’d seen everywhere else. A heavy stone table sat in the middle of the room with gilded, high-backed chairs set around it. A diamond chandelier hung above, but only a few of the candles were lit, casting the room in shadows. In the middle of the table was a small arrangement of food. Nothing like Irdelron’s groaning food benches.

At the head of the table sat an emaciated man, draped in finery. As we neared, I noticed the robes he wore were threadbare and ill-fitting. If those were his robes, they’d been made for him a long time ago.

Dyter took the lead, and I shuffled behind, trying to reconcile the thin king with the fat, crass man I’d created in my head.

“Greetings, King Zakai,” Dyter said. “Thank you for granting us an audience.”

The king used the table to stand and paused for a long moment before moving forward to meet Dyter. Zakai extended his hand. “I am pleased to have you here,” he said. “I’m eager to hear of Verald’s new king and to discuss how we may improve the bonds between our kingdoms.”

Straightforward. Polite. Open mannered. I narrowed my eyes, clinging to my expectations of his character. He let his people eat each other, I reminded myself.

He turned to me and, with a slight bow, said, “You must be Ryn the Most Powerful Drae.”

“I am,” I answered, dipping my head at him, ignoring Dyter’s eye roll. I wasn’t curtseying to rulers anymore. The sheer fact I’d entered this place was a miracle and one I hadn’t even thought about in my desperation to find shelter before the emperor found us.

“It is an honor to meet you, Ryn, one of the last free Drae. Please,” the king said, pointing at the chairs behind him. “Take a seat so we may talk further. You must be hungry.”

I swept my gaze down his frail frame. Dyter said the king was in his forties, but he looked much older, like the starving people in the Penny Wheel of Verald. There was no way we were as hungry as he was. Unease crawled through me at the disparity of my expectations and the reality before me.

I sat on the king’s left, Dyter on his right, and servers rested plates before us and removed the gilded domes covering the platters. The aromas of roasted meat and rosemary, rich gravy, potatoes with thyme, and baked apples with cinnamon assailed me, and all thought fled my mind but one.

“What kind of meat is that?” I asked. There was no way I was going to eat another person, no matter how good it smelled.

The king glanced at one of the servers who answered, “It’s roasted pheasant.”

The bird was in an arrangement of herb-roasted vegetables. My mouth watered in anticipation as Dyter and I loaded up our plates.

I cut into a potato, popped it in my mouth, and vowed I would never begrudge a potato again. As I chewed, I glanced at the king and found him watching me. His eyes were a rich blue . . . in fact, his eyes were the color of my scales, lapis lazuli.

More confusion twisted my insides, and my gaze fell to his empty plate.

“You’re not eating?” I asked.

He gave a small smile and a casual wave of his hand. “I’m not hungry just at the moment.”

Uh-huh, and I was the queen of walking potatoes. I shrugged, choosing to take him at face value for now, and placed some of the greasy bird meat in my mouth. I withheld a moan. Just.

“I hear Verald is prospering as never before under Caltevyn’s rule,” the king said. “It’s been what? Just two weeks since his ascension to the throne, yes?”

I heard a rumbling sound and looked to the source . . . the Gemond king’s stomach.