Page 118 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
Now I accepted that it just was.
Zandyr and I each went about our days, him facing the Senate, councils, and training with his warriors, while I continued my lessons.
Then Goose would take another delectable tray of sweets to the guards as a precautionary measure and Zandyr would sneak up through the back garden, Leesa’s ointment on his hands and feet. Probably overkill, since the back garden was wild and inaccessible to most, but better safe than sorry.
We talked little, both falling to sleep exhausted. Then we’d wake up tangled, as if our bodies couldn’t deny the needs we tried so very hard to ignore while conscious.
Or I did.
The way he smelled, the elegant but fierce way he moved, how his vowels dripped from his lips, both with a royal tilt and the edge he’d gained among his warriors, soldiers, and assassins.
He was a beautiful dichotomy of born refinement and trained ruggedness, all tied up in a relentless, ferocious package.
A royal warrior.
A crown prince.
The one they called The Dragon.
I slept each night next to him, lulled into the realm of dreams by his heat that seeped through the sheets straight into my bones.
“You’re not focusing,” Allie drawled from the portal. She sounded too tired to be reproachful. Her voice was clipped and impatient. Something must have happened with the Commander. “You need to light the candle, not incinerate it whole.”
I looked down at the growing mound of scorched wax, the hues of yellow and red now blackened by my blistering power. A fresh candle stood on the table, waiting to be sacrificed along with its siblings.
I sighed and fisted my palms. Controlling my power was proving more difficult than either of us had imagined. Some days, not even a spark of it burst to the surface. Other times it threatened to burn down the entire library. Goose now left a bucket of water waiting by the entrance, just in case. Bless him and the way he still blushed whenever Leesa was anywhere near him.
Allie thought we should try to channel my power toward a specific goal. Hence the candles.
“I’m not the only unfocused one.” I raised my palms toward the candle as Allie let out a big, undignified yawn. “Sleepy?”
“Exhausted. I can’t concentrate on anything and I have a literal mountain of Clan payments and charges waiting for me to go through. It’s blocking the foyer.”
I frowned. “Payments?”
Allie hesitated. “Are you alone?”
“As alone as I can be.” Goose was banging some pots in the kitchen, Leesa was fluffing some flowers on the veranda, and the hiss of blades in the courtyard could only come from Adara.
“Then yes,” Allie said, whispering all the same. “I’m checking every single penny that went into Protectorate members’ vaults. And each that vanished.”
Allie had never cared about wealth. She’d cursed Fabrian’s fortune each chance she got. “What are you looking for?”
“Bribes.” Her gaze slashed to me. “Our magic was blocked on Sanctua Sirena and I suspect someone got rich off it.”
“If someone did receive a bribe, then they would have erased all traces of it.”
Allie’s lips twisted into a mean grin. “I have my ways.”
Because she was fearsome and raised Clan and knew the little details a civilian–or a Lost Daughter–would miss. “I’m guessing you’re not sleeping with Ryker.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Allie bit out, but I noticed the way her cheeks tinged.
I shrugged. “If you want to concentrate better, it might be worth it to try sharing a bed. Especially with the future of the Protectorate hanging in the balance. Literally.”
“I fear Silas has tipped that balance against us. The decisions he’s making are ludicrous.” Allie pinched the skin between her eyes. “He’s infuriated me enough for one day, let’s get on with our lesson.”
Which we did–without success.
