Page 12 of The Flame King's Queen

Stesha is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a foot propped against the stone. He straightens up when he sees me. “I have been tending to the dragons and have heard little news. How are Zabriel’s injuries?”

“They are serious, but he was strong enough to come back to us. He has been sleeping a lot, but we just watched Scourge replenish the font together.”

Stesha nods and turns to go.

I haven’t had the chance to speak with Stesha, and I call out to him. “Wait, please, dragonmaster.” He pauses and turns back to me, frowning. “Thank you for what you did for us. Zabriel and I would both be dead if you had not kept an eye on Godric.”

“Dragonriders don’t require gratitude,” he says dismissively.

But for once his tone isn’t sharp, and I’m encouraged to smile at him. My dislike of the dragonmaster has been constant since I first encountered him, but though Stesha is severe, sometimes to the point of rudeness, he is loyal. “All the same, I give you my thanks.”

Stesha frowns curiously, studying me in detail. “What is…” He turns his head away and steps back. “Oh.Y’denris ol Ma’len fennar.”

“Pardon?”

He opens his mouth to explain, but footsteps sound along the corridor. We both look around when a familiar figure turns the corner. Zenevieve, her cheeks flushed and wisps of hair flying around her face. She gazes up at Stesha with an open mouth.

“I…” Stesha’s voice fades away. Neither of them moves or speaks as they stare at each other. I may as well have disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“I came to see howMa’lenfares,” Zenevieve finally says, glancing at me. “But the dragonmaster was giving his congratulations to the king? You’re pregnant, Isavelle?”

So that’s whaty’denris ol Ma’len fennarmeans.

My cheeks heat. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people telling me my own secrets because of my scent. I cover my stomach with my hands, and then I can’t help but smile at the hopeful feeling that spreads through me. “Apparently I am. I only just found out myself.”

Zenevieve smiles happily. “Zabriel told you? He was the first to know, even after everything that happened today? How perfect for you both.” She runs into my arms and hugs me.

I’m aware of Stesha looming over us, and any moment now, he’s going to turn on his heel and stride away. Zenevieve has shed so many tears over him, and I know she feels like she failed and disappointed him. Meanwhile, Stesha beat his head against a wall until blood poured down his face, which I’m sure was because he feels responsible for all Zenevieve’s torment by Emmeric’s hands. He and Zenevieve haven’t spoken since she returned from being in Emmeric’s thrall. It’s about time they did.

I quickly disentangle myself from my friend and steer her toward Stesha. “I must hurry and find my family. The dragonmaster will tell you how Zabriel fares.”

I turn a corner and head down the corridor, and I grip my thumbs tightly in my fists, silently begging one of them to speak. I walk slowly and my ears are pricked.

“I like how you’re wearing your hair these days, dragonmaster,” Zenevieve says softly. Shyly.

I wonder how he used to wear it. I’ve only ever seen Stesha with his hair loose in a long white curtain down his back.

Saysomething, Stesha. Give her something that you both desperately need.

My blood sings for you.

My teeth ache for you.

Because a Maledinni Alpha wouldn’t sayI love you. He would speak of teeth and blood.

But there’s only cold silence behind me. I sigh and keep walking. After everything that has happened, perhaps they still need more time before they are able to reform their friendship or turn it into something else. There are things in their pasts that I don’t know about, things that Zenevieve is sorry about that she has mentioned to me and never explained.

For now, I turn my attention to my family. They must be so confused and worried by everything that has happened.

As I emerge from the temple into fresh air and bright spring sunshine warming the black stones, I see my bodyguards, and I can’t help but smile at seeing them both fit and well.

“That is a wonderful sight,” Fiala says, returning my smile. “Ma’lenmust be feeling stronger if you’re smiling.”

I embrace them both. “Zabriel is already frustrated he can’t get out of bed.”

“I can believe it,” Dusan replies. “If we didn’t have the important task of guarding you, my lady, we would be out there on our wyverns hunting the traitor.”

Fiala’s eyes narrow in anger. “Elysant, that lying bitch. I regret every time I spoke with her that I didn’t wring her scrawny neck.”

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