Page 123 of Courting the Dragon Prince
“I …” Onyx didn’t want to hear this. “He destroyed my temple.” His voice trembled.
“But you wanted peace, Onyx.” His uncle took a step towards him. “Remember the letters you wrote to your mother pushing for it.” He lifted both hands. “Well, this is what peace looks like.”
Onyx’s shoulders tensed.
Warden Flint took another step towards him. “And now what? What do you want to do, Onyx? Dissolve the marriage?”
“I can’t. I’m bound to him for life,” Onyx said. “I signed my name.”
“True.” His uncle’s eyes stared straight at Onyx. “But if you weren’t, would you want us to return to war with them?”
“No!” Onyx paced to one of the shattered windows and stared out at the mountains. “You know how important I believe peace is.”
“I do. You’ve been very vocal about that,” his uncle said, coming up beside him. “But has this new development changed your mind?”
Onyx shook his head. “The war has to end.” Even with all this anger and hatred swirling inside him, he knew they needed peace. The war could not return. The cost was too high.
Warden Flint gave a single nod. “You need to calm down so we can discuss this properly.” He strode to the door, opened it, and rang a small bell on a table beside it, summoning a servant.
“Two cups of the herbal calming tea,” Warden Flint said to the servant when he appeared.
The servant bowed and left.
“I don’t want tea.” Onyx ran a hand over his face. He sucked in a breath and pulled his hand away, the wounds from Lady Larimar’s trick stinging.
She kept a pouch of tiny stones on her body for such purposes. Then she flung them using her powers when she needed to break up fights. Apparently, she’d learnt the trick by having eight hot-tempered children, all with strong earth elemental skills.
Lady Larimar lacked the power to hurl large boulders. But she could fling gravel. She said you’d be surprised what sort of fights you could break up with a handful of pebbles.
“You want a lesson in ruling, well, here it is,” his uncle said. “A grand warden needs to always remain in control. You need to not let anger, pain, compassion, and grief take over. You have seen for yourself what happens when a ruler allows their emotions to consume them.”
Onyx closed his eyes. He thought of his mother, drugged and addicted to lysithea tea, no longer capable of ruling.
“Even now, you need to focus on the future of our kingdom,” his uncle said. “For the glory of the Grey Mountains.”
Onyx’s jaw tightened. “For the glory of the Grey Mountains,” he repeated. Those were his sister’s last known words.
Taking a deep breath, Onyx straightened. He would do everything he could to bring glory to their kingdom so Tourmaline’s death would not be in vain.
There was a knock, the door opened, and the servant entered.
His uncle took the tray of tea things. “That will be all.”
The servant departed with a bow, and Warden Flint placed the tray on the side table. He poured the tea, back to Onyx.
Onyx walked to one of the chairs and collapsed. He closed his eyes. “It’s just a shock.”
“That is reasonable.” His uncle’s footsteps approached. “Our next steps will be important.”
Onyx opened his eyes and took the cup made from obsidian. “Thank you.” He took a sip of his tea. “I just?—”
“Finish your tea,” Warden Flint interrupted as he sat opposite Onyx. He took a sip from his own cup. “Then we will talk.”
Onyx inhaled deeply, letting the soothing, steamy scent of the tea wash over him. He could smell lavender, chamomile, and something else he couldn’t quite place. He took another sip.
They drank in silence for several minutes. Finally, Onyx put his empty cup down on the table.
He sighed. Surprisingly, a sense of quiet stillness had descended on Onyx. So much of his anger and grief had bled away so quickly.
