Chapter 33 #3
“You wanted to look, Duke Warrik. So look. What’s the problem?” I growl, spreading my arms out and twirling so the few drakes that have managed to fight their reveal can take me in.
“We were not prepared,” Warrik stammers, his jowls shaking with his weak defense. He stands next to Lorn, and his reedy frame is laughably frail next to the large Scion.
“Yes, you were,” Lorn snaps, whirling on the duke.
“My father told you that she has been mistreated. You were informed that she needed rest and time to heal. You, Duke Dowzer, and Duke Anjou pushed for this meeting against the advice of your king and Ever’s Bonded.
You have it now, and this is how you behave?
” Lorn growls. “You dishonor your line with such abhorrent conduct.”
Like he’s trying to avoid the blows of Lorn’s words, Warrik jerks back, his panicked gaze bouncing around the room expectantly. If there was ever anyone here that would have willingly stood up for him, they’ve flown the coop.
Duke Anjou suddenly steps forward. “Forgive me, Scioness. I will never let a lapse in judgment like this happen again,” Anjou pleads, bowing to me. His sandy blond hair curtains his face, and the little braids with crystals woven into the plaits sway with the change in position.
I stare at him, unsure what to say. I try to think of what Enslee would do in my position, but nothing comes to mind.
Shit.
I’m no good at winging the whole benevolent thing. I’m more of a cut first ask questions never kind of a girl.
“Uhhh…Do better,” I finally mutter, hoping it’s enough.
It’s not a pardon by any means, but I also want this whole fucking farce to be over with.
Anjou bows a little deeper, and then he straightens and moves to stand next to his seat.
Duke Dowzer pushes away a count who’s still trying to shove him, even though the drake’s attention is trained on me and Duke Anjou.
The count staggers back, and Dowzer hurries to his chair at the end of the table while straightening his clothes and running a hand through his ruffled brown hair.
King Noctis still stands at the opposite end, silent, watchful, and the room starts to settle.
As always his poker face is exemplary. I can’t gauge if he’s angry, apathetic, or thinking of something that has nothing to do with what’s happening in this room.
At last, King Noctis sits and everyone else cautiously follows.
Aeson pulls my chair out and picks up the soft blanket that’s sitting there. He wraps it around me, gets me settled, and then takes his own seat.
“Blood brokers did that to you?” Duke Bleddyn asks from where he’s sitting on the other side of Aeson.
“They did,” I answer the large Thrasher, and I’m not surprised in the slightest when he uses his affinity to test the statement for dishonesty. “I was taken by a group who knew what I was. They hunted me, bled me often, and tortured me for fun.”
An unsettled murmur moves throughout the counts that still remain in the chamber, and a few of the dukes show obvious discomfort in the way they look away from me, or shift their weight in the seats as though they’d like to get up and leave.
“And you bonded with the Scion?” Duke Sato asks, but he doesn’t exactly sound interested; instead it’s as though he’s checking off a list of topics that we’re supposed to go over.
“I did.”
I look over at Aeson and reach for his hand.
He threads our fingers together, lifting our palms to place a soft kiss on the back of my hand.
The gesture is simple, and steeped with a surprising amount of devotion.
My blood starts to blaze, and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.
I know we were supposed to be putting on a show, but my flashback has thrown everything off-kilter and this doesn’t feel like it’s for anyone but us anymore.
“And how is that going?” Duke Anjou inquires, the question tugging me free from Aeson’s gravitational pull.
“Well, our bond would be complete by now if it weren’t for your meddling,” I all but growl, feeling an intense wave of possession come over me.
My gaze locks on Duke Dowzer. The ringleader of this entire disrespectful waste of time.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he counters innocently.
“Exactly what I just said,” I lob right back. “How’s the hunt for my captors going? Any progress?”
His stare morphs into a censorious glower. “I cannot say, as I am not a part of the investigation.”
“Interesting,” I answer pointedly, but I’m distracted by Aeson’s com as it goes off.
He quickly scans whatever message was just sent, and instantly, I know it’s not good news. He looks up at me, jaw clenched and eyes hard with authority.
“Stay with your Wing and with Lorn. I’ll be back,” he orders, and then he’s out of his chair and hurrying out of the room before I can demand to go with him.
I turn to Lorn and then the king, but they’re as locked down as ever. My mind races with a million possibilities of what could be important enough to pull him away. None of them are good, a handful are catastrophic, and one could be the end of our world as we know it.