Page 73 of Courting the Dragon Prince
Onyx wanted to scream.
He shook his head and began to walk again. He could at least get away for the day. He’d just need to return to the monastery tonight. Maybe he could even return tomorrow.
Maybe he could find the grand monk and ask how long he could be parted from his husband. Then he could stay away from Luther for that exact length of time.
But how would he go living with Luther for the rest of their lives? Limestone Castle in the Grey Mountains was big. Perhaps they could give Luther a section of the castle to live in. And Onyx would simply avoid that section forever.
Luther could be free to do whatever he wanted in his part of the castle. He could bring in lovers to simper and fawn over him, treating Luther like he was the centre of the world and like no one else existed. Just how Luther liked it.
And that was how they’d live together forever.
Before Onyx left the monastery, he would need to tell his uncle that he had to get away for a day. Maybe even the night. Hopefully, his uncle would understand.
Then Onyx would return to the monastery and continue being a dutiful heir. And he’d avoid Luther. And he’d keep avoiding him for the rest of his life. That was his new strategy to cope with being married to a man he hated.
He approached his uncle’s room, hoping the king and queen consort of Draconia had left.
A sound echoed down the corridor. Onyx’s heart clenched in his chest so hard his feet stumbled. He tripped, almost falling flat on his face. He righted himself and held completely still.
He turned and stared down the long corridor, not daring to draw breath, waiting to see if the sound repeated.
There it was! That sound again!
Onyx closed his eyes, the noise washing over him like a cherished memory that he’d somehow managed to forget. The sound cut into him, slicing like a knife to the bone as he stood there. His hands trembled. His eyes dampened.
Laughter. His mother’s laughter.
With a shock, he realised he hadn’t heard his mother laugh in years.
Grand Warden Amber had never been an individual who laughed often. She’d always been so serious and determined, like himself. After Tourmaline’s death had destroyed the grand warden, Onyx had missed his mother’s strength and support. He’d not known that he’d missed her laughter too.
Because she’d stopped laughing. And Onyx hadn’t noticed until he heard her laughter and realised he hadn’t heard that sound since his sister died.
Turning on his heels, Onyx sped in the direction of the tearoom. Then he heard another voice alongside his mother’s. Onyx frowned. Because that voice made no sense to him.
Still, Onyx raced to the tearoom. When he reached it, he paused in the doorway, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.
“Really?” Luther sat beside the grand warden in the seat Onyx had recently vacated. “They didn’t!” Luther leaned towards Amber Obsidian, holding a dainty porcelain teacup in his hands. Luther smiled at Onyx’s mother.
“It’s true,” Amber Obsidian said, voice rasping. “The poor keeper of the birds didn’t know what to do with the injured roc that Tourmaline and Onyx had brought into the castle. Those silly children just expected the keeper of the birds to tend to this massive bird as if it were some pigeon with a broken wing.”
His mother still sat slumped in her chair, limbs drooping. But her voice, although slow, slurred, and hoarse, had more life to it than Onyx had heard in years.
Onyx’s throat tightened.
“I have no doubt it was Tourmaline’s idea to bring it back. She had so much spirit,” his mother said. “She always dragged Onyx along on her adventures.”
Then her words hit Onyx. She was talking about Tourmaline.
He took a step forward, planning to change the topic and distract his mother from talking about Tourmaline as he usually did.
But Onyx froze. Because his mother had been talking about Tourmaline … and she’d been laughing. Talking about Tourmaline had made his mother laugh.
Onyx had always thought dwelling on Tourmaline would make his mother’s condition worse. Had he been wrong?
“She sounds like quite a handful.” Luther sipped his tea.
His mother chuckled. “Oh. She was. She was indeed.” His mother’s eyes shone. “So full of life and spark. So clever too. Always so clever.”
