Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(57)

True. “Al’right. Let me know if you need a sex talk,” I said, doing my best to keep a straight face. “If he’s your best guard, you want to keep that relationship healthy.”

She snorted and shoved me lightly. “If I speak to every other person in this realm and I’m still confused, I might consider asking you.”

“You’d reconsider if you knew how good I was at playing cards. I’ve got maypole dancing skills.”

She fought against a grin and lost.

“But seriously, please look after yourself, Lani,” I said to her as Tyrrik wrapped up his conversation.

Lani rested a hand on my forearm. “You know I will. And you can rest easy knowing I’ll keep the Gemondians safe in your stead. You worry about Azule. I’ll handle protecting the army until we meet again.”





22





Our scouting party was enroute, and good things were coming. I wasn’t sure if the feelings were mine or Tyrrik’s or both, but the prospect of uniting the three kingdoms and Phaetyn against Draedyn was a monumental step in the end of his rule. I was certain that if—no, when—Azule joined us, we would have enough strength to end his tyranny.

Have you been to Azule before? The sparkling water appeared turquoise today, and I wanted to soar closer to the liquid gem. Or maybe I was getting some serious treasure withdrawals after Gemond.

No. Irdelron didn’t allow much vacation time. His flippant tone and words indicated he was kidding, but memories surfaced through our bond as Tyrrik struggled to block the horrific visions of torture and cruelty from me. His next words were somber. He ruled with fear.

I was all too familiar with what that meant. Fear stole freedom. And yet looking back, I could see that Irdelron had only ruled with fear. That had made him predictable. Draedyn ruled with fear first, according to his words. If fear was first, what else was he capable of?

The choices he made aren’t a reflection on you, I said.

No. But mine are, Tyrrik said. The image of him yelling at me in a dark alley flitted through his mind, and his regret leaked through our bond.

I was only receiving a fraction of what he felt, but there was nothing familiar about the memory.

I don’t remember that, I told him. If you’re going to feel guilty about something, at least reflect on a time when you actually did something wrong.

The memory expanded, and I recognized the first time I’d seen Tyrrik in the courtyard inside Zone Seven when he yelled at me to get out of Verald.

You were trying to save me. How funny. I’d never been upset because he’d yelled at me that night. I had lots of my own regrets and painful memories, but seeing his had only made me want to comfort him.

I’m sorry. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you. His voice throbbed with sincerity. I’ve owed you an apology for a long time.

I caught a memory of Dyter saying something about love and apologies, only it was Tyrrik’s memory, so Dyter and I sat side-by-side while Tyrrik watched from behind us. I had my own version of this one.

I remember that night. I remembered looking up at our twin moons, hoping they weren’t going to crap on me anymore. Dyter’s advice also opened my eyes to how Tyrrik treated me. And even though you hadn’t said words, your actions showed your sincerity. I’ve forgiven you, Tyrrik. All of it was worth it because I got you.

Tyrrik hummed, a warm purr that made my insides curl, and I thought of other things I could do to make him purr.

Maybe we could take a few minutes, I thought at him, glancing at a copse of trees on the mountainside.

Funny, Ryn. Let’s get safely to Azule and drop off the humans first. He chuckled, but his interest wasn’t any less than mine. Maybe more and only mitigated by the openness of the terrain . . . and the small audience on our backs.

The mountains melted into rolling hills as we approached the border. The foliage changed too. The lower altitude deciduous trees were shorter and fuller than the mountainous pines and cedars. There was no line separating the kingdoms, but after flying for a few hours, I knew we’d arrived in the Azule kingdom.

Buildings dotted the land before us, the rolling hills smoothing into flat grasslands and vibrant fields bursting with a red, yellow, and orange autumn bounty of which I’d never seen. The exclamations of surprise from my back and those echoing in Tyrrik’s mind let me know I wasn’t alone.

In the distance, the structures were far more concentrated, and an unfamiliar tang rolled in the air, tickling my sensitive nostrils. The smell felt wrong, and I wanted to turn back for the clean mountain air.

The people ambled around far below, talking and laughing with each other, in no hurry to find cover. They weren’t even glancing up at the sky for the emperor every five seconds like the Gemondian army.

They aren’t afraid, Tyrrik mused.

Sinking dread pulled at my chest because that could only mean one thing.

They aren’t worried about Draedyn, he said louder.

The twins said he treats Azule different than the rest of the realm, I said. I scanned the ground again, noting the homes weren’t in disrepair like in Verald, not even here in the outskirts of the kingdom, and the people, the Azulis looked different too.

Their hair ranged from gold to orange, red, and brown, like the autumn leaves around them, and their skin ranged from creamy white to rich mahogany. What set them apart, distinctly apart, from the rest of the Draconian Empire were their frames; their healthy, well-fed bodies looked nothing like Verald’s people, even the wealthy Veraldians, and the contrast of the Azulis’ bodies to the Gemondians was far starker than that.