“I promised I wouldn’t touch the Empress. Didn’t say anything about him!”
And damn her, but she was right.
Ghleanna itched to go back outside and finish what she’d started.
Imagining Bram as a young dragon, not even a full-grown adult, trapped in a dungeon and at the mercy of that slithering pond scum had her blood boiling.
She’d been alone like that before, but her kin had come quick enough. And she knew they would. She knew that none of her kin would leave her to die. But they were warriors, trackers, blacksmiths, pit fighters. Bram’s kin were cultured royals who relied on their queen for protection—and she’d failed them. Adienna had left their son and her loyal subject to the whims of the enemy.
And no one had suffered for it. Not Adienna. Not the Empress nor her father. And not Bram’s torturer. Unsurprisingly that stuck in her craw most of all.
“You’re right. You did only promise to leave Helena be. But now I’m asking you to do the same for Kleitos.”
“I’ll not make that promise, peacemaker.”
“He’s chancellor, Ghleanna.”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you wish to get out of here alive?”
“Of course I—”
“Then I want you to leave him be. Do you understand?”
She looked off.
“Ghleanna . . .”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I understand.”
“Good. I need to go.” He frowned at her chest. “Your wound is irritated.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Yes, but—”
“It’ll be fine!”
Bram stepped back, raised his hands, palms out. “I’ll see you later then.”
He turned but Ghleanna caught his arm.
“Ghleanna, I have to go.”
“I know. It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
Ghleanna raised herself onto her toes and pressed her mouth against his, her hands sliding into his hair, fingers digging into his scalp.
Bram caught hold of her waist and she thought he meant to push her away. But he pulled her close, held her tight, and slipped his tongue into her mouth.
Her human body heated, her ni**les hardened, her sex became wet. It was all instantly there. And instantly perfect. But then Ghleanna was falling, everything around her spinning.
Bram caught her in his arms. “Ghleanna?”
“I’m all right.”
“I’ll send for the surgeons.”“No, no. Just bed. I’m just tired.” He didn’t look like he believed her. “Don’t question me, royal. Just take me to the bed and go to your meeting.”
Bram picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. With infinite care, he placed her on it, then covered her with the fur.
“Get some sleep. We’ll talk more later.”
Talk? As far as Ghleanna was concerned they were long past talking. But the peacemaker was skittish. Best not to spook him.
She nodded. “Later then.”
Ghleanna watched him walk out, the door closing behind him, and her mind turned.
For the first time in six months, she wasn’t thinking of her own misery. She was thinking of others—and how to make their misery worse.
Chapter 10
When Bram didn’t return for several hours, Ghleanna got up again and found some leggings that fit her.
She opened the door—still unlocked—and walked out into the hallway. There were new guards at her door. They turned, facing each other, and slammed the butt end of their pikes into the ground.
“My Lady—”
“It’s Captain.”
“Captain.”
“Why are you human?” she asked.
“Orders, Captain.”
That was good enough. They probably didn’t get an explanation and knew better than to ask for one. “I’m hungry. Any food around?”
“We can have the servants bring you—”
Ghleanna waved that away. “Not in the mood for servants. I need to move around a bit. Or am I still under arrest or whatever you’re calling it?”
“No, Captain. We are merely here as protection for an honored guest.”
Ghleanna blinked. “Honored guest? Wasn’t it just a few days ago that I was the horrifying Low Born that had to be kept human?”
“They still want you human, Captain, but you’ve been given leave to walk where you’d like.”
So the Empress was sucking up—interesting.
Ghleanna started off, but eventually came to a stop. “And you’re to follow me everywhere?” she asked the guards right behind her.
“Yes, Captain.”
Good. Even better. “Well, what’re your names then?” “Anatolios, Captain. This is Demetrius.”
“Anatolios. Demetrius. Does the Empress feed her guards and soldiers well?”
“She does, Captain.”
“Good. Take me to where you eat.”
The arguing turned out to be quite monumental. Full of passion and eloquence.
And yet . . . it was also a phenomenal waste of time.
These senators, the representatives of the Fin populace, were arguing the logic of a truce with the Southland Land Dwellers. A very good discussion to have for any ruling body—except that these senators did not rule. They had no power except that which their monarch allowed them. And Helena, like her father before her, allowed very little.