Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(55)



“What took you so long?” she asked when she stood directly in front of me. “I expected you days ago.”

I stepped away from Tyrrik to draw the Phaetyn queen in for a tight hug. “I was getting worried too.”

Pulling back to look her in the eyes, I noticed a tightness around her lavender orbs. “There have been some developments. Let’s fly far enough away so we can talk.”

“I can’t,” she said with a tilt of her head at her people, her hand immediately going to her head to keep her silver crown in place. “I’m just now starting to feel confident in the trust I’m striving to build with my people. If I leave now, it will derail all my efforts.”

She grimaced, and I felt a twinge of pity for her. A big twinge, actually, because her people could be really vicious. Healers . . . and brutal murderers. Oxymorons, the lot of them.

As if reading my mind, the queen said, “I need their trust, and so do you.”

Ouch.

That trust isn’t going to last if they find out Draedyn is invading your mind, Tyrrik said.

He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. I shook my head, trying to convey to her how weighty said development was. “It’s my secret.”

A breeze lifted her hair and ruffled everyone’s aketons and robes. The air caressed my skin, and Lani offered me a sad smile.

“Ryn, what happened back in the forest with your father wasn’t your fault, but I know you understand the consequences of being forced to hand my sister over, unfair or not. If you want to earn their trust after what they saw, you’re going to have to be vulnerable enough to earn it. They’re uncomfortable, and you’ll have to show them they can trust you if you want to change their perception.”

I simultaneously saw her point and didn’t. Deep down I resented the assumption that because of my power, I was expected to do more than everyone around me. Yet again, I was being asked to give another piece of myself away. Even knowing she had a valid point, I didn’t like it. And yet, I’d already given away so much. Why stop now? I heaved a sigh. “Fine. Do you want to erect a platform so I can announce it to all of them? Then I only have to do this once.”

Lani crossed her arms over her chest and snapped, “Grow up. You’ve been a victim. Don’t let it define you.”

“Hold up,” I retorted. “Did you even think about what you’re asking me to do, Lani? Would you like a whole race of people to know the ins and outs of your power?” I challenged. “Would you be willing to detail all of your strengths and weaknesses not only to King Calvetyn but all of Verald?”

We glared at one another, and she finally broke the stare-down. Waving at someone in her entourage, she said, “Makau, help Osofi.” She pointed at the Phaetyn who had fainted and then at me and Tyrrik. “Let’s confer with my counsel then.”

Lani led us toward a blue canvas pavilion, much like the one King Zakai had used for his council meetings. Maybe there was a handbook for new rulers or something in their genetics that drove them to have these canvas structures created with their ascension to the throne, or maybe they were passed down from ruler to ruler. Stupid canvas tent of doom. I showed my massive maturity level by not saying anything . . . out loud.

I hate them too. I had to shift in one once, and the tent lines got tangled in my talons.

The visual cheered me up as he’d intended no doubt. Thanks for that, I said, snuggling closer. You’re the bestest.

Mmm-hmm. I know. His jaw hardened as we drew closer to the pavilion.

Kamoi’s guard, now wearing aketons the color of the mountain stone, stood around the tent, spears in hand. Most kept their attention fixed outward, but my gaze collided with a couple of the men, and their eyes narrowed. One guard tightened his grip on his weapon in a way that didn’t seem to scream welcome.

“They’re not going to try and attack, right?” I asked. Not that anything they did could harm me, but I wasn’t going to be forgiving if I had to burn gold Phaetyn blood out of Tyrrik again. Ever. Or if they upset Lani’s trust plans. I rolled my eyes at the thought, realizing I was upsetting her trust plans.

“My guards are loyal, and they are well aware of who the enemy is, Ryn,” Lani said. “You have nothing to fear.”

Right. Their distrust rolled off them in waves. Not that I could blame them after recent events, but still. Stay on your toes.

Already on them, he replied, stepping forward to hold the tent flap open for me. I can count on a single talon the number of people I trust.

After what had happened with Dyter, I was kind of feeling the same. I knew the old coot would do anything for me, but Tyrrik would cease to breathe without me. That took the trust thing to a whole new level.

The light was muted inside the canvas structure, but the temperature was warmer. Ten Phaetyn sat cross-legged on folded blankets, obviously awaiting our arrival. Three more cushioned seats made of pale silvery-blue fabric were unoccupied.

I settled on my cushion, and Lani took the one beside me.

Tyrrik stared at the remaining cushion and rumbled. “I’ll stand behind my mate.”

I felt his flash of irritation and glanced behind at him. His eyes had flooded black, but he was making an active effort to not partially shift and intimidate them. I understood his vigilance and distrust. Some of these Phaetyn might’ve been in collusion with the ones who’d been poisoning him while they sliced him to ribbons.

Kelly St. Clare & Ra's Books