Chapter 64
MYRA
A flurry of white, opulent feathers blurred past Myra and sent a gust of wind pushing back her blonde hair. Myra bit the inside of her cheek, unsure whether to follow or stay put.
"Is he…is he going to be all right?"
Myra’s attention flicked to Bax. The guard sat on the edge of the chair across from her. He leaned forward, his palms digging into his thighs, as he peered down the hallway where Laurince had disappeared.
Myra ran a hand across her throat. "He will be."
That morning, Phaia had slipped into the castle through the tunnels to gather intel.
There, she had learned that the hospital ward was overflowing with victims of the attack.
Civilians, guards, and staff members alike were fighting for their lives.
Many had died during the attack. Those who survived were riddled with fear.
The news of the trial had spread across the capital, and the people of Frenzia no longer knew who to trust. Many had yet to leave their houses, afraid of encountering the beasts that had wreaked havoc in the throne room.
Although Phaia said some people were hesitant to believe that King Rian was behind the attack, others took to Sebastian’s lies easily.
Even Bax had admitted that many of the guards who previously mistrusted Sebastian were now hesitant to act against him.
Myra refused to give up, though. For her entire life, greed and cruelty ran free and unchallenged. It had to be stopped.
They had spent the past three hours discussing how they could put an end to Sebastian’s reign of terror. And while their options were limited, there were options.
Even though many of the guards were turning a blind eye, Bax believed they had allies in Freniza.
Myra had also suggested reaching out to Tetria.
Rian had initially opposed the idea, not wanting to drag other kingdoms into internal affairs.
However, this was not only a civil matter.
Sebastian had already attacked several Tetrian villages.
The people of Frenzia might have been told that these attacks resulted from Rian’s actions, but they knew the truth.
Sebastian wanted not only Frenzia but the seven kingdoms.
"You should go, Bax," Rian said, his attention fixed on the floor, "before anyone gets suspicious."
Bax frowned. Sighing, he pushed himself to his feet. "Don’t lose hope, Your Majesty. There are guards who saw how you fought against the drakonises."
"Yet they believe I created them," Rian mumbled, his hands clasped together in his lap.
Bax’s lips parted, but he swallowed his response when Phaia placed a gentle hand on his arm. She shook her head.
They had spent the entire day cooped up in the house, trying to plan their next move. Rian was clear about his desires. He still wanted to take back his throne, but without a proper army, there was no easy way to do it.
"I will see what I can do," Bax offered.
Rian remained hunched over, his head in his hands.
"I’ll walk you out," Phaia said to Bax, leading him toward the back door.
"Thanks," Bax mumbled.
As they walked away, Myra held back a sigh. Their hope was dwindling faster than she wanted.
"Do you have everything you need?" Myra asked, hugging the satin chemise Phaia had let her borrow. She stood with one foot inside Laurince’s room and the other outside.
Laurince nodded, riffling through the clothes Bax had delivered.
Bax had left nearly two hours ago. When Phaia had returned, Rian had followed her into her room, where hushed conversations slithered beneath the door.
For a while, Myra had kept to herself, not wanting to disturb the others.
But then she heard a commotion coming from the guest room.
When she had knocked, a low grunt answered.
She pushed open the door and found Laurince tossing clothes all around the room.
She debated leaving him alone since he was clearly upset and working through everything, but she couldn’t bear to leave him alone.
"I could get you some tea?" Myra offered.
"No tea," he mumbled, tossing another shirt to the side.
Myra shifted on her feet. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He grabbed another shirt and held it up. He turned it around and around. Then he chucked it across the room. "Talk about what?"
"For starters, maybe why you keep tossing perfectly good clothes on the ground?"
Laurince shoved the clothes away and plopped down on the wooden chair. He sat on it backwards, the only comfortable position for his wings. He rested his arms on the back of the chair and set his chin atop them. With a wave of his hand, he said, "None of them fit."
"You and Bax are similar sizes, aren’t you?"
"The size is not the problem."
"Then what—" Myra’s mouth fell open as her attention flicked to the large wings. "Oh."
Laurince hummed.
She pushed off the wall and set her chemise on the bed.
Snatching a shirt from the ground, she inspected it.
"Well, that’s an easy enough fix. We can cut the fabric here and here.
" She drew invisible lines with her finger across the back. "Then we can add some buttons, and you can slip it on like the shirt you’re wearing now, but this won’t be backwards. It’ll look…normal."
"Normal," Laurince said with a snort. "As if any of this is normal."
Myra frowned. Folding the shirt over her arm, she tipped up his chin, forcing him to look at her. "This is your new normal. Things change. Sometimes in ways we least expected them to, but that doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing."
Laurince sighed, and his lashes brushed the tips of his cheeks as he closed his eyes. "I know. It’s just…" He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the thick strands off his forehead. "It’s going to take some time."
She squeezed his arm. "Of course it is. You need time to adjust. But you know what we can do in the meantime?"
His eyes fluttered open, and gold flecks swam in his dark brown irises from the warm glow of the candles. "What?" he asked, his pupils dilating.
Myra held up the shirt between them. "We can cut all these shirts and adjust them so you’re comfortable."
Laurince moved the shirt aside. His eyes locked onto hers before dipping to her lips. "Or I could go shirtless."
Myra’s brows shot up. Goosebumps skated across her skin. A small smirk rose on Laurince’s face, and Myra suddenly had the strange desire to kiss it.
He’s hurting, she thought. This is not the time.
She cleared her throat. "Laurince," she warned.
Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. Grinning, he stretched his arm, then scratched the back of his neck. The backwards button-up bunched up at his chest, and the collar poked his chin. "Sewing really isn’t my forte."
Her mouth suddenly felt dry. "I-I can sew. You can cut."
"Hmm. I suppose we could do that."
Her heartbeat was in her ears. "Should I go get a sewing kit?"
"Or…" He grabbed the shirt from her hand, their fingers brushing.
"Or?"
He trailed his fingers over her arm, across the scattering of goosebumps. A sinful glint sparkled in his heavy, brown eyes. "I could show you other things I’m good at."
"I—" Flustered, Myra choked on her words.
Then, before she knew it, she was rushing out of the room, chemise in hand.