Page 151 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
Zandyr’s lips tightened. “The Oracle has a habit of making you question. But you don’t need to worry.”
His free hand hovered in the air, as if he wanted to touch me so badly, but refrained. A slow, open smile bloomed on his face, taking my breath away.
Zandyr was a gorgeous man, always, but joy looked best on him. “She also told me my heir will be a girl. And that I will wait a long,longtime for her. You know what that means?”
I shook my head, even as my heart fluttered in my throat.
“That you will live a long life. You. Will. Live.” Me. Not him, not us.Me. His eyes shined with a victory neither of us had won, but one which he fully believed in. It was as if the Oracle’s words had soothed that frantic part of him that wanted to defend me at all costs. “I will not rest until the world will be a safe place for that little heir. Which will take a long,longtime.”
I sighed in relief. I was not ready for a child yet. I almost was one a few months back; at least that’s how it felt. But seeing–feeling–Zandyr so excited about that hazy future that glimmered with hope was, dare I say it, promising.
He tucked my hand closer to his body and began walking again. “Are you ready for your surprise?”
A small wall of trailing plants greeted us, peppered with blooming flowers that drew me in with their sweet scent. Little lights flickered from behind the canopy.
Zandyr swept the plant curtain to the sides, revealing a small stone pavilion resting on top of a hill. Purple roses climbed on its twisted pillars, which had the mark of centuries past etched in the small cracks.
I sucked in a breath. I broke in a run up the stone steps, dragging Zandyr by the hand as I went. His low chuckle chased after me.
Grandpa Constantine had been right. It wasreal.
I only slowed as I reached the hallowed basis of the pavilion. I looked up and up at the face of the woman who’d started it all.
The Protectorate.
The First Family.
The Clan war with the Blood Brotherhood.
The Stolen Princess who’d shaken the entire continent with her might.
Adriana “Dria” Vegheara. The Blood Brotherhood had indeed erected her statue. Carved in white marble, with little silver veins spidering over her arms and face, there she stood, in all her glory. Her formidable gaze looked in the distance, as if watching over her armies. Her right hand was tensed, fingers curled, ready to hurl a bolt of power toward her enemies. Her hair blew in the eternal air, as she stood proud against all the hurdles she’d faced.
Behind the pavilion, an impressive magnolia tree was in full bloom. But its flowers weren’t normal. They glowed in a light that couldn’t decide whether it was silver or gold. It reminded me a bit of the other crown Leesa had shown me, indecisive in its shade. The glow turned the entire small hill into a haven. Soft petals detached from the branches, falling gracefully. Dria looked like she stood in a rain of jewels.
Zandyr had found it and had brought me here to see it. This gorgeous, dangerous man hid his kindness well.
I stood there, awed. “You really did it. You carved Dria in your mighty Citadel.”
“She was the greatest enemy our Clan has ever faced, she deserved to be immortalized. Though few know she is here,”Zandyr said softly from behind me. “Now do you see the resemblance?”
“That damn stubborn chin.” I laughed and touched mine gingerly. I loved it. It made me feel closer to the First Family I’d been torn from. Dria’s blood coursed through my veins. I shouldn’t forget that.
Ever.
Zandyr leaned down, his lips ghosting across the shell of my ear. “It’s more than that. Look at how she stands. Powerful. Courageous. That’s how you are.”
There was no stopping my blush now. The words, the closeness, his warmth pulsing against me…“I still have a long way to go to reach her might.”
He cupped my cheek, turning my face to him. His chest molded to my back, enveloping me in that sensation that was all him. Strong. Confident. Safe.
“That is how I see you,” he whispered against my lips.
A question burned at the back of my throat. I shouldn’t break this moment. I really, really shouldn’t–
“If I didn’t have the famed Vegheara blood, would you still have looked at me like you’re doing now?” Like he wanted to devour me whole.
The doubt had been itching at the back of my thoughts for weeks. Would he, Zandyr “The Dragon” Rohenstorm, the great heir to the Rohen dynasty, have even looked my way if I hadn’t been First Family? I still remembered what the guests had whispered at my failed wedding. What the advisors had blatantly murmured in the throne room.
