Chapter 27 Roland
ROLAND
The first time I woke, it was to a horrible clenching in my gut.
I was certain I would be sick, but when I pushed up on an elbow and my stomach heaved, nothing came up.
All I’d had in a day was that tea, and thank the gods, only a little of it sneaked up the back of my throat, acidic enough to burn.
The bed shifted, someone moving behind me, snuggling in closer.
“It’s all right,” Aderyn whispered against my shoulder. His fingertips traced down the inside of my arm, then slowly back up. His other arm slipped under my head, so when I lowered myself back onto the mattress, I was tucked into the curl of his body.
He kissed the edge of my ear and continued that slow, gentle brush across my arm. With my lips parted, sucking in cool air, I tried to lose myself in the steady swipe of his hand.
I must’ve managed it, because when next I woke, I was alone.
Sunlight streamed through a nearby window. My body ached, and it was a strain to convince myself to sit upright.
Worse, to stand.
Our host must’ve been rather generous and well-appointed. She had left clothes for me to put on, and it was a relief to put on something fresh, even if it was rougher than I was used to.
Once I had, I stood there staring at the finely embroidered clothes slung over a nearby wicker chair. They’d been cleaned and only looked a little worse for wear.
What if I never returned to Atheldinas?
Well, for one, I’d miss my family. For another, I’d simply be foisting off my own responsibility on someone I loved.
As tempting as it was to imagine a life where I never had to don such fineries again, where Aderyn and I could find a modest farmhouse out here in the middle of nowhere, I didn’t actually want to leave my life.
I did, however, wish my headache might ease.
If I couldn’t escape my life, I might still return to bed, but as the sun was high in the air, and I didn’t know where Aderyn had gone, that was impossible.
Braced against the wall, I shuffled my way into a sunny kitchen.
“Madam—”
She spun around so fast it made my head swim, blinking at me owlishly.
“I’m sorry, sire. ’Fraid I’m a bit lost in the clouds. I didn’t hear you come in.”
I shook my head. “I was quiet.”
She hummed, her brow puckered. “You’ve been asleep a while.”
I frowned. “How long?”
“Couple of days. We had a hard time rousing you to eat.”
That was all a bit of a blur. I had a sense that I had seldom been alone, but no real conception of what had happened in my absence.
“I’m working on our supper,” she continued.
“Can I help?”
She tutted and shook her head. “No, no. No need for that. You’re barely back on your feet yet. If you fancy a stroll, that lad of yours is out tending the chickens. He’s got a gentle hand.”
I bit my lip against a smile. “He’s fond of birds.”
“Oh, aye, he carries in a dozen feathers every time he goes out to the coop. If you’re up to it, I’m sure he’d love to see you up and about. He’s been mighty worried over you.”
Guilt pricked at me. I loathed the idea of giving Aderyn any reason to worry at all, but perhaps I’d just have to get used to the idea of causing him stress. Maybe our relationship was worth it even when I did.
“Good idea,” I said. “Should I tell him supper’s almost finished?”
“Mm.” Even though she nodded, her brow pinched in the middle. “Don’t wander off too far now. There’s been talk of strange sorts out by the harbor. I don’t know if they’re the ones you mentioned, but no sense looking for trouble.”
“Absolutely.”
If I never saw another Destovian again, it’d be too soon.
Before I went out, I hesitated by the garden door. “I don’t suppose you have any way that I could send word to the Spires?”
I’d gotten far too used to having ravens, or being surrounded by people who could fly.
Even if Aderyn were well enough to manage the trip, I wasn’t sending him anywhere without me. If it meant I spent the rest of my reign touring Llangard on dragon back, so be it.
“My son’s coming by this evening. If you’d like to give him a letter, he can take it to town. The courier comes by every fourth day.”
Moons above, we really were out in the middle of nowhere here.
I hoped things back in Atheldinas weren’t spiraling out of control without me, but I’d have to trust in Bet and Tristram.
Well, in Tristram. Bet was probably plotting to murder the Destovians already.
“Thank you,” I said. “And your son—I’ll thank him too, when he comes.”
Her smile softened. “He’ll be tickled by that, Your Majesty, to be certain.”
I slipped into the garden. The sun was high in the sky, but the wind was cool on my face. It was rather nice, compared to the cloistered warmth inside that cabin.
Around the side of the house, I heard the clucking of chickens and a tight, familiar voice.
“He’s gone home,” Aderyn said. “He’s back in Atheldinas, where you can’t touch him.”
I froze just before the corner’s edge.
“Then why are you still here?”
Peering around the corner, I saw Forov’s man. The chickens were clucking madly, all scurried into the far corner of the pen surrounding the coop.
Somehow, the Destovian had gotten inside. A bag of seed lay on the dirt beside Aderyn, turned over and open where he’d dropped it. Even the promise of food wasn’t enough to compel the chickens back toward the threatening Destovian who gripped Aderyn’s arm.
I stepped out from the corner and Aderyn’s eyes widened. He shook his head, but his attention only pulled the Destovian’s with him. He spun Aderyn’s arm behind him and held his blade against his neck.
I’d never wished that I were more like Bet—more brutal, more capable of bloodletting—than I had in that moment. In a fair, honorable fight, I might be able to take the man myself, but right then, as hollowed out as I felt, I didn’t stand a chance.
And he didn’t seem to be in a fair and honorable mood.
“Unhand him, and I’ll go with you,” I swore.
The man sneered. “And he’ll just fly after you again.”
I bit my tongue. Aderyn couldn’t, and—well, he didn’t have to save me. Even if the Destovians got me all the way back to their empire, I’d consent to nothing. I’d make no compromise when all I wanted was in my own kingdom.
“If you hurt him,” I snarled, “you’ll face war on two fronts. I swear by Penrose and Nye that I’ll—”
There was a twang, the thump of something hitting—I wasn’t sure. Something soft, like a bag of grain.
Or flesh, I realized, when the Destovian coughed and a bubble of blood burst on his lips.
He swayed, braced himself, and I saw a score of crimson-gold blood follow his blade across Aderyn’s neck.
“No!” I shouted and ran forward, even as the Destovian fell. I caught Aderyn in my arms.
He clutched me with both hands, staring at me, wide eyed and blinking.
And he was—
He was fine.
He was cut, but it wasn’t deep enough to wound him mortally. His face was pale, but that seemed more fear and shock than anything serious.
His skin was split, but there was none of the gore I feared, and when I breathed in deep, a warm feeling suffused my whole body.
We were all right.
As long as we held tight to each other, we would continue to be.
I’d never wanted power. I didn’t care about being king.
The thing I wanted most, from the moment my cage was locked beside Aderyn’s, was to see him safe and well.
“What are you doing?” Aderyn whispered as I touched his neck.
It wasn’t a fatal wound, but no doubt it hurt. He was bleeding, and if the man responsible weren’t already dying on the ground, I’d be tempted to see to the matter myself.
The man on the ground coughed, the sound horrendous and bleak, but I kept my eyes on Aderyn, and sent the warmth inside me into him.
All I loved in the world, I wanted to share with him, and the tingling in my fingers seemed oddly unthreatening, considering all my body had been going through the last few days.
I drew my hand away, and his skin stitched back together. The blood whisked away.
I grinned broadly, snatching his wrist up. The scar that ran down his arm where he’d offered me his blood had disappeared.
“How do you feel?” I asked, leaning in close.
“How did you—” Aderyn bit his lip, touching his neck with his fingertips, shrinking into his shoulders.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I—I never cared for might, but I do care for you, and you’re—” Overwhelmed, I blew out a long breath. “I wanted to spare you hurt.”
“You did,” Aderyn gasped. He threw his arms around my neck, and the weight of him twisted us both to the side. Our shoulders bumped against the coop, but I didn’t care. He was smiling like I’d feared I’d never see him smile again.
Another stranger approached, this one holding a bow, but it was pointed toward the ground, and I could only imagine he was our savior.
As he came closer, I realized his gait was uneven. He seemed wary of putting his full weight on one leg, and only came to the edge of the fence before he jerked his chin at the man on the ground.
“He dead?”
I nudged him with my foot. He flopped onto his back with a pained rasp. “Dying, I’d wager, if no one helps him.”
“He has no friends here, I’m afraid.” The archer looked up at Aderyn and me, finally, and raised a brow high. “You’ve grown, since Windy Pass,” he said, looking me over.
I shrugged. “It’s been a few years.”
We’d all had the long march back from Windy Pass to Merrick together, and while my focus had been on Aderyn, no doubt plenty of Llangardians had seen me that day.
Living out here, it was unlikely that they’d seen me since.
He looked at Aderyn. “And Ma says you’re the dragon—the little green one?”
Aderyn nodded. I squeezed him closer, but he didn’t flinch away from the moniker this time.
“Littlest beastie on the field that day. Right shame you were there.”
“A shame we all were,” I agreed, glancing down at his bad leg.
The man’s lips twisted. “Way I see it, everything happens for a reason. We got lucky. Luckier still that Ma’s got the pot on. Shall we head in?”
I held Aderyn’s hand as he stepped around the man on the ground, and we left him to die there with the chickens.
After all, the pot was on.