Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RAOUL
After working on the last formation the next morning, we flew to Goldwing.
This flight felt shorter than our last one, maybe because Adele’s excitement thrummed through our bond like a second heartbeat.
She leaned forward on my back, her fingers gripping a back spike, her mind racing ahead to the peaks we’d tackle.
Look at that ridge, she said, pointing. The tremor lines match Silvervale’s. The ice formations here might be even more exposed due to the western-facing slopes. That would explain the increased symptoms.
My amazing wife, already working on solutions mid-air. It made my dragon preen, even as the practical part of me worried about her pushing too hard again. She’d barely recovered from yesterday’s work in Silvervale, and here we were, diving straight into another problem.
We spotted Goldwing’s golden walls gleaming in the late morning sun, the peaks behind them jagged and snow-capped.
I banked lower, aiming for the main courtyard where a small group waited.
No hostile advisors this time, at least not visibly.
King Trevare stood front and center, his posture relaxed, a smile breaking through the exhaustion still lining his face.
I landed smoothly, shifting once Adele had slid off. She straightened her tunic, and her braid might be a bit wind-tossed, but she looked every bit the queen.
“Raoul, Adele.” Trevare stepped forward to clasp my arm and then, surprisingly, do the same with Adele. “Thank the fates you’re here. My scouts got your message from Silvervale. If their babies are improving already…”
“They are.” A smile lifted on Adele’s face. “And yours will too, if we’re right about this.”
He nodded. “Come inside. We’ve got a late breakfast waiting, and my advisors are assembled. They’re eager to hear more.”
Eager might’ve been generous. As we followed him through the sunlit corridors, I caught the undercurrent in his voice. Trevare trusted us. He’d shown that last time. But his court? They’d been full of accusations and fear last time we were here.
The council chamber was smaller than Silvervale’s, with high windows letting in streams of light that danced off polished stone walls.
A long table groaned under platters of fresh bread, cheeses, smoked meats, and fruits.
Simple but hearty, the kind of spread that said they were grateful we were here, but they were eager to start business.
Trevare’s advisors numbered about a dozen, a mix of older dragon shifters with stern faces and younger ones who looked more curious than confrontational.
They all rose as we entered, but I noted the crossed arms, the furrowed brows.
One in particular, a woman with a scar across her cheek, eyed Adele like she was a puzzle that might explode.
We sat to Trevare’s right and ate quickly.
“Queen Adele,” Trevare said after we’d finished. “Please, explain what you found in Silvervale and how it applies here.”
Adele spread her maps and notes across the table, jumping right in with that focus I loved.
“It’s the ancient ice, exposed by the tremor.
It’s sublimation, the process where a substance changes from a solid to a gas.
This releases mineral particles into the air, and they’re carried by wind currents.
Goldwing’s western exposure means you’re getting a heavier dose, which explains why your babies are suffering more. ”
She walked them through the process, pointing out wind patterns and particle dispersal like she was teaching students. I watched her work, my chest tight with pride. Fates, she was wonderful.
The scarred woman leaned forward, her eyes narrow. “You’re telling us our children are sneezing and coughing because of melting ice? We’ve lived in these mountains for generations and ice melts every spring. Why now?”
“The ice isn’t ordinary,” Adele said. “It’s ancient, packed with ages of minerals. The tremor exposed it to the warmer air. I’ve got the data here. The timing of the quake lines up with when the symptoms started.”
Another advisor shook his head. “This is supposition, Your Majesty. We’ve tried herbs, wards, and even relocating nurseries. Nothing’s worked. How do we know this isn’t just another idea that won’t make a difference?”
Adele met the man’s gaze head-on, her chin lifting. “It worked with Silvervale, but I can show you. Not with more words or sketches. Let’s go to a nursery right now. I’ll set up a humidity ward. If it helps even one baby breathe easier, you’ll see that the issue is something in the air.”
The room went quiet. The advisors exchanged glances, then nodded.
“Please,” Trevare said, lifting his hand. “Show us.”
He led us to a nursery on one of the lower levels, a cozy space carved into the mountain with woven rugs and flickering torches.
Three babies fussed in their beds, their coughs rasping like sand on stone.
The parents hovered, their faces drawn. One mother rocked her infant while the child kept sneezing and coughing.
Adele knelt by the first cradle, her hands gentle as she assessed the hatchling in clear distress. “This ward will increase humidity, trapping the particles before they reach the airways. It won’t fix the source, but it’ll give him relief.”
The parents nodded, hope flickering in their eyes. The advisors crowded in, skeptical but watching.
I stayed by the door, giving her space, but my dragon instincts prickled. If this didn’t work, I’d burn the whole damn mountain down. Alright, not really, but I had a fierce need to protect her.
She closed her eyes, her magic humming in the air. The room’s atmosphere shifted. It was subtle at first, then more noticeable, the air growing heavier, mistier, like stepping into a forest after it had rained. A faint shimmer danced around the cradles.
It didn’t take long.
The coughing stopped. One baby let out a tiny sigh, her chest rising and falling. Her mother’s eyes widened, tears spilling over. “She’s breathing. Oh, fates, she’s breathing easy.”
An advisor with a scarred face stepped closer, peering into the cradle, and her face softened. “It worked. Just like that.”
Adele straightened. “It’s science and magic combined. But yes, it helps. We’ll need to renew the ward. They don’t last long.”
Another advisor rubbed his jaw. “Can we teach this to all the families?”
“Of course,” Adele said. “It’s simple enough for anyone with basic magic.”
Trevare clapped Adele on the shoulder, his grin wide. “You’re a miracle.”
Adele caught my eye across the room, and the look we shared held pure heat. My dragon rumbled in approval.
From there, it accelerated. Adele spent some time demonstrating the ward in two more nurseries, showing parents and advisors alike. By the time we left the last one, the skepticism had vanished. Babies who’d been wheezing for weeks now slept peacefully, their little faces full of relief.
Word spread through Goldwing. As we walked through the palace, people lined the corridors, cheering, some reaching out to touch Adele in thanks. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shone.
Back in the council chamber, Trevare turned to us. “What’s next? How do we end this for good?”
“We need to accelerate the sublimation and contain the particles,” Adele said. “I’ll need your best guides, people who know the slopes better than any others, to help me identify the ancient ice.”
“I’m your guide,” the scarred advisor said. “I’ve been flying those ridges since I was a fledgling. If there’s something new out there, I’ll notice.”
Adele nodded. “Perfect. We’ll start at dawn.”
The rest of the day was spent with preparations. We mapped routes and packed gear. Adele quizzed the guides about wind patterns. I stayed close, making sure she ate and suggesting she rest when her energy flagged.
“Drink, sweet,” I said during a break, handing her a mug of tea.
“Thank you.”
“Finish all of it.”
Her laugh came out soft, tired. “You’re being bossy again.”
“Devoted.” I leaned over to kiss her temple. Fates, I loved this woman. The words burned in my throat, begging to be said, but this wasn’t the time.
Dawn came crisp and clear, and we met up on Goldwing’s launchpad.
After I shifted, Adele climbed onto my back, the guides shifting beside us.
We launched into the biting wind, the peaks rising like golden sentinels around us.
These slopes were steeper than Silvervale’s, the ice formations tucked into narrow crevices that required careful navigation.
Our guide led the way, her dragon form sleek and scarred, banking through updrafts with ease. We found the first exposure quickly, a glittering vein of ancient ice cracking through a sheer cliff.
Adele’s excitement buzzed through the air. It’s denser here, more mineral-heavy. This explains the severity.
She worked her magic from another ledge, me holding her steady while the wind eddied around us. Heat built under her command, particles rising in a controlled shimmer, funneled upward by her thermal barrier. Watching her command the elements like they were extensions of her will mesmerized me.
By midday, we’d taken care of three sites. Reports trickled in via messenger dragons of hatchlings continuing to improve. Adele pushed through, but I saw the strain and the way her hands trembled after the third formation.
“Eat,” I said, after landing at a sheltered outcrop for a break. I pulled provisions from the pack and handed her something fortifying.
“Thank you.” I sat, and she leaned against me, my arms around her from behind as she ate and drank.
The final site was a huge exposure high up, where the wind howled like a beast. Adele’s magic flared brighter here as she accelerated the sublimation. Particles swirled up, sparkling in the afternoon sun before vanishing.
When she finished, she sagged against me, breathless. “That’s it. The last one.”
I caught her, holding her close. “You did it. Again.”
“We all did it,” she said, her head on my shoulder.
The scarred advisor joined us, peering around. “That was incredible. The air already feels cleaner.”
Even I could sense the difference. No more grit in the wind.
Back in Goldwing, the palace had been transformed into a celebration.
Tables groaned under platters of roasted meats, fresh breads, and spiced wines.
People mingled, their laughter ringing out.
Hatchlings cooed from their parents’ arms, free of coughing and sneezing, their cheeks pink with health instead of strain.
Trevare stood on a dais along one side of the great hall, holding up a goblet. “To Queen Adele of Emberforge, who saw what we could not and brought relief to our youngest! And to King Raoul, for bridging friendship to our court.”
Cheers erupted. Adele flushed beside me, waving off the praise, but I pulled her close, my arm around her waist. “Take the credit, sweet. You earned it.”
Trevare approached us later, clasping Adele’s arms. “You’ve saved us. Name whatever you want. Anything Goldwing can offer.”
“Just peace,” she said softly. “And maybe your spiced wine recipe. It’s divine.”
He laughed. “Done and done.”
The party stretched into the evening, but we slipped away early, the pull of home too strong.
We flew through twilight, stopping overnight at the same cozy stone shelter we’d shared days ago.
It felt like coming full circle. Rain pattered on the roof while we curled together by the fire, too exhausted for more than soft kisses and whispered plans.
We continued at dawn, arriving back at Emberforge the day before the Summit. The palace buzzed with preparations, but Demi had it handled, waving us off with a knowing grin. “Go rest. You two look like you’ve conquered mountains.”
“We have,” I said, steering Adele toward our rooms.
That evening, Adele stood by the window, staring out at the volcanic peaks. A fire crackled in the hearth.
I came up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Are you feeling rested?”
She leaned back into me, sighing. “I’m processing it all. It happened so fast. The hatchlings, the courts, everything.”
“You were wonderful.” I turned her gently, cupping her face. Her eyes met mine. Fates, I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“I love you.” The words tumbled out. “Not because of a practical arrangement or a political match, but because of who you are as a person. I love the way your mind spins through problems, your stubborn streak, your laugh that brightens every room. I want more than convenience. I want your hopes, your dreams, and every smile. I want the good days and the bad ones. All you’re willing to share with me. ”
She blinked, tears sparkling in her eyes. “Raoul…”
“I fell hard, sweet. My dragon knew from the start, but the man needed time to catch up.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she laughed through it. “I love you too. So much it scares me. You’ve crashed into my life and made everything better. I didn’t expect this, but I want all of it, with you.”
Joy surged through me. I kissed her, softly at first, and she melted into me.
“There’s more,” I murmured against her lips. “We’re fated mates. That’s why we can talk in our minds, why the bond feels so strong.”
She pulled back, her eyes wide. “Truly?”
I nodded, grinning. “Dragon shifters recognize them right away. The mind link is one of the first steps.”
Her happy laugh burst out. “You should’ve told me.”
“I was waiting to be sure you felt it too.” I nipped her lower lip. “I didn’t want to scare you off or make you feel pressured.”
“Scare me? Never. This explains the pull I felt from the start.” Her fingers traced across my jaw, sending sparks through me. “Fated. I like that.”
Our kisses deepened, heat building as her body pressed against mine. I groaned, sliding my hands down her sides.
“I need you, Adele,” I whispered against her mouth. “All of you, every day.”
“I need you too.” Her breath hitched as I kissed her neck. “Take me to bed, my dragon king.”
With a growl, I scooped her up, carrying her into our bedroom.