Page 97 of The Artist and the Dragon

Over the pounding in her ears, Bronwyn barely heard the reply when it came. “If the queen is cursed, it’s too late. I’m sorry.”

No!Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. “It’s not!” She rammed her shoulder against the door, but it did nothing except send a wave of pain shooting through her body. The butler had returned and was advancing down the hall, but Bronwyn was not deterred. “If I end him, it ends the curse. Please, Charlotte!”

“Miss Davies?” the butler called over Bronwyn’s desperate outrage.

“Bernard, see Miss Kinsley out.”

Her eyes flew wide.No. No, she can’t be this cruel. “Charlotte!” She rattled the locked doorknob one last time, but the butler corralled her toward the stairs.

Charlotte…

Chapter 40

Malik

Malikdrankhalfhisglass of whiskey in one go.Damn. What a day.

“Another, Your Highness?” The barkeep raised his brows at him.

“Please.” He slid the half-filled glass across the counter.

The day had started as a dream, with him waking up next to Bronwyn for the second day in a row, but had soured the more it progressed. She’d been a mess last night, torn up over her friend’s involvement and all that she would not say. Malik had signed a pardon for Charlotte, an attempt to get the grieving woman to speak. Whether Bronwyn was successful it that, he wouldn’t know until later. His focus was elsewhere.

First, he’d visited the Yarwoods to break Siân’s heart. She’d taken it reasonably well, all things considered. Threw a shoe at him and stormed off in tears, but that was to be expected. Her brother, however… Malik frowned as the barkeep slid the newly filled glass back to him. Fury had nothing on the brother of a jilted woman. The man had even threatened him, which might make him laugh under other circumstances but now only raised his suspicions further. Rees Yarwood had no love for him, and a clear disrespect for the crown.

A wiser man would have kept the ruse with the Yarwoods going, perhaps, but the time for slow games was over. And he’d been right about one thing: pretending to be interested in someone else when he had Bronwyn’s affections was impossible. The mere thought of it made him ill, and he would not taint the one good thing in his life.

Malik sipped at the whiskey, savoring its burn, and glanced about the busy gentlemen’s club. He was waiting on Lord Osric, but it seemed he was to be disrespected twice in one day—the man was late. As long as the lord eventually showed, it was a slight he could let go.

Others kept trying to engage him in conversation. He was, after all, quite the novelty, a notable guest to this particular club with its deep blue walls and even darker leather chairs. A few hard looks and curt words kept the men from lingering, though. He was in no mood.

Finally, he spied Lord Osric through the haze of cigar smoke. The lord took note of him at once, smiling broadly, though even that attempt looked slimy and unwelcoming. Nearly everything about the man did. Goddess help him, he would never associate with such an eel of a person under different circumstances, but progress required sacrifice, and he was out of time.

They claimed a corner table that Malik had reserved, and the attentive barkeep immediately brought Lord Osric a glass of whiskey. He sipped at it before grinning and throwing one arm over the back of the curved lounger. “Excellent taste, as to be expected of His Highness.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

It said much about the man’s want of connections that he’d come on invitation alone.

“I believe we may be of a similar mind.” He held out his open hand in an offer to shake. “Allwings in the willows.”

Lord Osric cocked his head, his grin spreading. He took Malik’s hand, his fingers settling into the pattern used by the dragons to show their allegiance to the cause. “And fire in the hearth,”he finished the secret acknowledgement. “Though I am surprised to find you among our number. I’d heard it was quite the opposite.”

“Oh, really?” Malik sipped at his whiskey. “From whom?”

A laugh filled the space between them. “Everyone.”

Malik grinned, leaned on the table, and whispered, “It would be foolish of me to wear my allegiances on my sleeve, as it were.” He sat straight once more. “It’s good to see my diversion has been effective.”

“The Dragon never told me about you.” His brow scrunched. “You’re to be the heir?”

“Am I not already?” Malik gave a toothy grin. “Besides,helets you in on all his plans, does he? I trust you’ve met him in person?”

“Well, no…” Lord Osric shifted in his chair, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “I mean, I get my letters, same as everyone, and I was supposed to meet him soon. Elis had assured me of that, but then he…”

“Ah yes, most unfortunate,” Malik replied.

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