“What are you doing?” Dyter asked.

I jumped, and the dagger I held clattered to the stone floor of the huge bathroom.

“Nothing,” I said, clearing my throat.

Leaning down, I scooped the dagger up and passed it to Dyter who stood in the ornate archway.

He looked past me to the large emerald in the wall. The one that now had scratch marks around it from where I’d tried to pry it out. I wasn’t perfect, and I was the first to admit it.

“When did you wake up?” he asked, sheathing the dagger in the scabbard at his belt.

“Not long ago.” Long enough for me to use the restroom and get distracted by that emerald. He wasn’t going to make it easy for me to get that blade back either. I was going to need to find another tool.

“How long did we sleep?” I asked. Judging by the stiffness I’d felt upon awaking, our nap had been more than a few hours.

I followed Dyter back into the large bedroom, and the sparkling walls captured my attention before I forced it back to the old man. This place was driving me crazy, although I could see why they shoved gems into the dark gray walls. The refracted jewel-toned light in here was deep and rich. If I had a lair, I would want it to be like this.

“A guard came to the door before,” Dyter said. “We slept nearly eighteen hours.”

I whistled low, but I wasn’t truly surprised. We hadn’t really rested since setting out from Verald, and even then, there had been the overhanging feeling of danger. Dyter had placed his packs in front of the sole door into our echoing, shared chamber, and after tending to Tyrrik—shoving as much food as possible into the slurring man—we’d slipped into a deep slumber.

“Is the king rested enough to see us now?” I asked, sitting on the narrow bed beside Tyrrik. His beard was filling in, and dirt smudged his cheek. I looked down at my tattered dress. I needed a bath and some clean clothes.

Tyrrik jolted at the movement and then blinked up at me.

“Evening,” I said, reaching for a platter of fruit. I grabbed a bunch of grapes and popped one in my mouth.

We’d received plenty of food yesterday, and the guards had brought us more. This king was no good. If he could spare all this, he could afford to feed his people.

Tyrrik rolled onto his back, and I stiffened as the blanket fell mid-way down his bare chest. I know I usually slept next to that each night, but at night I could pretend our sleeping arrangements didn’t mean anything. In the light of day, noticing his sculpted chest somehow meant more. Tyrrik plucked a grape from my hand and dropped the red globe in his mouth. He leaned back, placing one hand behind his head.

I took him in and swallowed. Holy pancakes. Look at the sparkling gems, Ryn. But I just stared at the Drae.

“So . . .” Dyter said, breaking the spell.

“Yes?” I said, facing him eagerly. I needed to get myself under better control. If he laughed, I’d hit him.

He didn’t. “We’re expected in a couple of hours.”

Great. I cracked my knuckles. “Time to heal Tyrrik then.”

Tyrrik shook his head. “I’m fine. In a few hours, I’ll be able to get through the meeting with the king.”

“You’re fine? You exhausted yourself and collapsed on the ground . . . unconscious.”

“But I slept eighteen hours,” he said. “There’s no need for you to deplete your energy.”

I rested my hands on his chest under the guise of healing him, which I guess I was, but—yeah—there were also ulterior motives. Classic trick.

I peeked up at Tyrrik and scowled at the wry smile on his lips.

I ignored him and tuned into my Phaetyn energy. Kamini was right, each time I used my powers, healing became easier, just like making plants grow. There wasn’t any gold poison in Tyrrik at all now. In fact, his body was fine, just like he’d said, but the flow of his blood was sluggish, and I could feel his exhaustion.

I studied the pulsing blue power coursing down my arms and gathering in my hands, invisible to all but me. I guess I’d stuff as much in as possible to help him regain his stamina. I exhaled and opened the gates of my Phaetyn powers, the energy immediately flowing into him. I took another breath and threw the force at Tyrrik.

With a yell, he jolted a meter in the air and flopped on the bed.

I echoed his yell, jumping away from the bed, frightened by the strength of his reaction. Holding my hands in the air, I stared at him. “Are you al’right? What just happened?”

Dyter snorted. “I saw a donkey do that once when it was branded.”

Tyrrik panted and pushed up to sitting, the blanket puddling at his waist.

“Whoa, Tyrrik, you’re practically glowing,” I said fidgeting on the spot. There was a bluish aura around his body. Maybe I’d over healed him. Was that a thing?

“Maybe a bit slower next time,” he wheezed, slumping back. “And less at once.”

That was nice of him. I sat next to him again and cautiously lay a hand on his chest, silently wondering if glowing was healthy. I frowned as I studied his new state. I’d poured plenty of energy into him, but the aura around his body faded, soaking into him like he was a dry sponge.

“You need more,” I said. “But I think we better wait a little.”

Tyrrik’s face was smooth and relaxed now, but he rested a hand over where mine lay against his chest. “Yes, Khosana. That might be a good idea.”

I met his eyes, heat creeping into my cheeks. “And you’re not coming to dinner,” I said, my voice a breathy whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again, but my words came out more like pillow talk. “You’ll be resting.”

The tone of my voice made it sound like I was asking to rest with him, but I couldn’t seem to find enough protest within myself to clarify the point. Our bond pulsed, and I felt his desire quicken.

He inhaled sharply, and black scales erupted where our skin touched, climbing up his arm. I stared at the luminescent blue in their depths, and my breath caught at the intimacy of his response.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Dyter said. “But I know I don’t want to watch it.”

His voice was distant and worked its way to my awareness slowly. I finally blinked, severing contact with Tyrrik’s intense onyx eyes. When had our gazes met?

My hand was shaking as I slid my arm free, but there was something I’d promised to say.

“Tyrrik,” I said, still perching on the edge of the bed though I planned to make a quick getaway after this. “I just wanted you to know that you can listen in my head.” I winced at the garbled words. “Like put your head in mine.” I sighed and stood. That bath-gem-getaway seemed like a good idea right now. “Anyway, you know what I mean. Thank you for being respectful and asking. I really appreciate that, and I’m okay with your thoughts rubbing against mine.”

I glanced back and saw Dyter’s eyes were squeezed shut.

“That’s not exactly what I meant—” I blurted.

“Ryn,” Tyrrik said.

I peeked up and saw him studying me with heightened intensity. His lips parted as he took a deep breath.

“Yeah?” Next time I told a mate they could jump in my head, I should think about what I wanted to say beforehand.

The Drae’s voice trembled. “Thank you for this gift. It is priceless, and I will treasure our connection.”

My chest rose as some kind of warm, joyful sickness spread through me. “You’re welcome,” I whispered. I made tracks for the bathroom. I had a bath to take and an emerald to pry out of the wall, and both seemed something I should attend to immediately. I paused, though, halfway there. “Tyrrik, did you plan what you were going to say beforehand?”

“No, Khosana.” He’d turned on his side to watch me leave.

“Huh,” I mused. I guess some people just had a gift with words.

* * *

“How big is this place?” I whispered to Dyter. The old man knew a lot more about the realm than I did because of his talks with King Cal. Probably a good idea to learn as much as I could.

Dyter tilted his head toward me so our conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the gold guards trailing behind us. Thankfully, Tyrrik had been asleep when we snuck out, so a debate on his health wasn’t necessary.

“King Caltevyn told me the Gemond kingdom extends throughout this entire mountain range,” Dyter answered.

My eyes rounded. I’d seen how huge this range was from the air.

“They mine throughout the Gemond mountains, however,” he continued. “Not all of the area is inhabitable. This valley is where most of the population lives.”

I heard what he wasn’t saying, too. Out there wasn’t like in here. Well, we’d see about that.

The guards stopped in front of a set of gold-plated doors and drew them back, gesturing us through. Considering the grandeur of the palace, I’d expected to be led to a ballroom, something similar to Irdelron’s throne room with long tables overflowing with food. The room we entered was plain in comparison to our chambers. The walls were plain without the adornment of gems we’d seen everywhere else. A heavy stone table sat in the middle of the room with gilded, high-backed chairs set around it. A diamond chandelier hung above, but only a few of the candles were lit, casting the room in shadows. In the middle of the table was a small arrangement of food. Nothing like Irdelron’s groaning food benches.

At the head of the table sat an emaciated man, draped in finery. As we neared, I noticed the robes he wore were threadbare and ill-fitting. If those were his robes, they’d been made for him a long time ago.

Dyter took the lead, and I shuffled behind, trying to reconcile the thin king with the fat, crass man I’d created in my head.

“Greetings, King Zakai,” Dyter said. “Thank you for granting us an audience.”

The king used the table to stand and paused for a long moment before moving forward to meet Dyter. Zakai extended his hand. “I am pleased to have you here,” he said. “I’m eager to hear of Verald’s new king and to discuss how we may improve the bonds between our kingdoms.”

Straightforward. Polite. Open mannered. I narrowed my eyes, clinging to my expectations of his character. He let his people eat each other, I reminded myself.

He turned to me and, with a slight bow, said, “You must be Ryn the Most Powerful Drae.”

“I am,” I answered, dipping my head at him, ignoring Dyter’s eye roll. I wasn’t curtseying to rulers anymore. The sheer fact I’d entered this place was a miracle and one I hadn’t even thought about in my desperation to find shelter before the emperor found us.

“It is an honor to meet you, Ryn, one of the last free Drae. Please,” the king said, pointing at the chairs behind him. “Take a seat so we may talk further. You must be hungry.”

I swept my gaze down his frail frame. Dyter said the king was in his forties, but he looked much older, like the starving people in the Penny Wheel of Verald. There was no way we were as hungry as he was. Unease crawled through me at the disparity of my expectations and the reality before me.

I sat on the king’s left, Dyter on his right, and servers rested plates before us and removed the gilded domes covering the platters. The aromas of roasted meat and rosemary, rich gravy, potatoes with thyme, and baked apples with cinnamon assailed me, and all thought fled my mind but one.

“What kind of meat is that?” I asked. There was no way I was going to eat another person, no matter how good it smelled.

The king glanced at one of the servers who answered, “It’s roasted pheasant.”

The bird was in an arrangement of herb-roasted vegetables. My mouth watered in anticipation as Dyter and I loaded up our plates.

I cut into a potato, popped it in my mouth, and vowed I would never begrudge a potato again. As I chewed, I glanced at the king and found him watching me. His eyes were a rich blue . . . in fact, his eyes were the color of my scales, lapis lazuli.

More confusion twisted my insides, and my gaze fell to his empty plate.

“You’re not eating?” I asked.

He gave a small smile and a casual wave of his hand. “I’m not hungry just at the moment.”

Uh-huh, and I was the queen of walking potatoes. I shrugged, choosing to take him at face value for now, and placed some of the greasy bird meat in my mouth. I withheld a moan. Just.

“I hear Verald is prospering as never before under Caltevyn’s rule,” the king said. “It’s been what? Just two weeks since his ascension to the throne, yes?”

I heard a rumbling sound and looked to the source . . . the Gemond king’s stomach.

Dyter swallowed a huge mouthful of meat and gravy and answered, “You’ve heard right.” He glanced at me. “King Irdelron kept a store of Phaetyn blood to preserve his immortality. With the Phaetyn’s permission, this is now being put to use on the land.”

The king leaned forward. “The lands are healing?”

“They are.” Dyter nodded. “And they will continue to heal and provide a more bountiful harvest with each year. The Veraldian people will grow in strength.”

“I am happy for your people,” the king said, and I paused mid-chew, hearing the complete honesty of his words.

He sighed, resting his head in his hand. “If I could do the same for my people, I would.”

Yeah, right. I opened my mouth, but Dyter intercepted me. No doubt on purpose.

Dyter leaned down and picked up a small case, placing it on the table. I’d seen Caltevyn give it to him before we left Verald. He’d guarded the case during our trip as zealously as I guarded my meager collection. He pushed the case toward the Gemond king. “King Caltevyn sends his regards and this gift.”

The king glanced at the case. “With what intention?”

“No strings, King Zakai,” Dyter said, resting his cutlery on the table.

I cut a baby carrot in half, but for some reason, I wasn’t feeling hungry anymore.

“King Caltevyn wanted you to have this gift. He asked me to press upon you that this is yours, no matter what your decisions are regarding other matters.”

“The other matters being what?” the king asked drily, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. Zakai wasn’t a fool, regardless of his frailty.

Dyter wiped at his chin. “Joining our alliance against Emperor Draedyn.”

One of the servers gasped, and the king cut the woman a severe look. The servers fell silent.

“Indeed,” the king said, his gaze flitting between us, spending a long time on me before he leaned forward and opened the case.

The Gemond king’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Several moments passed before he lifted his gaze to Dyter and asked, “This isn’t—is this—”

“Two vials of Phaetyn blood,” Dyter finished for him. “Enough to heal your lands now and for a long time to come.”

The king didn’t speak, staring at the vials. Tears gathered in his rich blue eyes, dripping to the stone table, staining the dark gray slate black with moisture.