Page 111 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

“Leesa, I’m right here.” I stroke her damp, stringy hair as a guard carefully assists Agnar in releasing her from her restraints. “Stay with me.”

Metal clangs, and I cringe as they lay her flat on the filthy floor.

I whisper encouragement to my unconscious sister until the healer arrives, Agnar kneeling beside me with his hand on my back.

Healer Luci kneels and rests the back of her hand against Leesa’s forehead, then her cheek. “No fever. That’s a good sign.” She continues to examine my sister for injuries or signs of distress. “She seems to be okay, but we won’t know for sure until she’s awake.”

Seconds—or maybe minutes—later, Leesa’s eyes flutter open.

Cautious hope rises in my chest when I note the color.

Brown.

Clear and vivid, without even a hint of black.

When they focus on my face, familiar warmth glistens in them, and I finally remember to breathe again.

Confusion creases her brow as she attempts to sit up. “What’s going on?

“Careful. Don’t try to move just yet.” I clasp her hand. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“Am I in a…cell?” She struggles to sit upright, gasping at the angry red marks on her wrists. “What happened?”

“Take it easy.” The healer places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It will take some time for you to get your bearings. What you need most right now is rest and nourishment.”

I can’t help but worry about what Leesa went through and how much she recalls. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re safe.”

She absorbs her surroundings. The royal guards, the dirty cell, the healer, Agnar. Her gaze lands on me again before returning to Agnar.

Her eyes widen with horror as a hand flies up to her mouth. Her entire body begins to tremble.

“No.” She shakes her head back and forth, her face crumpling. “Please gods, no. Tell me it isn’t true. What I’m remembering, all those terrible things…that can’t be true.” She whimpers. “I did, though, didn’t I? I killed them. Mother. Blair. I…oh, gods. I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”

She breaks down completely, sobbing hysterically into her hands and rocking back and forth.

I gather her in my arms, my tears mingling with hers. “It’s okay. You weren’t yourself. It’s not your fault.”

Agnar murmurs something to the guards, then speaks with the healer before everyone except the three of us leaves. A few minutes later, a guard returns with a heavy blanket.

After tucking the blanket around Leesa and me, Agnar slides down on my other side. Time passes as we sit like that, shivering on the cold, dirty cell floor.

I stroke Leesa’s hair until her sobs subside. After a small eternity, she speaks.

“After that first drachen attack, I felt a little foggy.” Her voice is a hoarse rasp. “Other than that and the headaches, I was fine. But then, I drank eyril at the Lost City, and that’s when I could hear it. A voice in my head whispering to me. Like I was in a dream. The voice would tell me what to do.” She sniffs. “At first, I resisted. But it got harder and harder not to obey. The dream became a nightmare…only the nightmare was real.”

The confirmation hits me like a punch to the gut. Eyril consumption after a drachen fear attack triggers the corruption. Specifically, eyril tainted with dragon blood.

The kind King Xenon cultivated at Flighthaven.

The realization chills me to the bone.

I choose my words carefully. “Leesa, you said you remember what happened with, well?—”

“With Mother and Blair.” She squeezes her eyes shut, dragging a noisy breath into her lungs. “I remember.”

“What did the drachen say, exactly?” I glance at Agnar, and the agony on his face makes my heart ache.

I reach over and cover his large hand with my smaller one, trying to comfort him while my own heart breaks.

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