The Broken Queen Sequel (Title Pending?) pt. 1 (Patreon)

Okay! I have started work in earnest on the sequel to the Broken Queen. Since the characters have been separated, there will be two chunks of story: Tashaya's time with the Black General, and the rest of the team back in Kota. I don't know how the book will actually begin, or how these chapters will fit together, but for now I'm tackling Tashaya's portion. At least until I get stuck!

This is totally the first draft, with basic but not overly aggressive line editing, so undoubtedly things will change, especially since my outline for this book is a lot of "and then stuff happens", but if you have any thoughts I'm always happy to hear them!

Chapter

Tashaya

Sunlight filtered in through a crack in the curtains, catching the sparkle of dust motes, in the gently swaying room. Tashaya stared, so disoriented that she briefly wondered if she was in some afterlife or telepathic vision. 

Through her fuzzy, sleep-dulled thoughts, she became aware of the nearby presence of a man dressed in black.

“How do you feel, Lady Tashaya?” he asked, turning from the desk. 

All the memories of last night—or whenever that was—crashed back in. She had agreed to go with the Black General, to travel to enemy lands. Well—she had agreed, but not without coercion. He was the only one who could heal her, and he had promised that it would keep Kurala from harming Atorra.

I’m a prisoner.

“I…I feel reasonably well,” she said, and it was true. She really did feel reasonably well, at least physically, with no fever, no weakness. Her hand moved reflexively to the symbol written on her skin, where it had been since she was a child, since the shadow had marked her.

“It’s gone,” the Black General said. “You slipped into unconsciousness shortly after we left Kota Castle, and I realized you really were quite ill and I didn’t have time to waste. We flew to the ship and I lifted the mark. It shouldn’t trouble you again.”

It was true. Her exhaustion was lifting as she sloughed off the remains of sleep. 

The dark magic that had kept her weak and helpless, that had defined her all of her life—gone. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “You should probably eat something, to help rebuild your strength.”

I’m a prisoner and this man is my captor. And what did I agree to?

Last night, she felt as if she had no choice but to say yes.

Or was it last night? She wasn’t on a ship now. This room was large, with a tall ceiling, and felt firmly planted. Tashaya had never been on a ship, but didn’t they rock and sway?

“How long was I out?” she asked.

“One week.”

“A whole week?”

“Yes, with healer supervision, of course. Once you rebuild your strength, you should be feeling very well, and that’s why you must eat now.” 

“I’m not hungry,” she lied.

“I’ll bring you a bowl of soup,” he said, in a firm tone that suggested she would be eating, hungry or not.

Because she had agreed to be the mother of his children. Or at least, the dark dragon’s children. 

Tashaya’s stomach churned. It seemed like a thousand years ago that she’d had that one magical night with Sairi. Even though she was too sickly for proper love making, he was so kind and seemed as happy with her company as she was with his. Every touch and caress of his wing was like fire on her skin, and every time he looked at her, she wanted so badly to live—to break the curse the shadow had left on her.

Now, the curse was broken, and she was miles away from home and getting further by the minute. Dorn would want to keep her close until the babies were born. Six or seven months, usually. She wouldn’t be able to carry the dragon-born to term; even the Queen of Songs couldn’t manage that. They always had to be induced early and cared for by healers.

The more she thought of all the ramifications, the more her stomach dropped.

What have I done?

I dreamed of having the dragon-born…but I know how difficult it is, even for the queen. I imagined giving birth among friends and family and the healers who have cared for me all my life. 

But who will care for me here? Who will hold my hand? I’m not going to be making friends among the Daramons.

Dorn stepped back into the room and brought the tray with a bowl of soup. It was a fairly small amount, despite the large wooden bowl. 

“It’s just chicken broth and seaweed with an egg dropped in,” he said. “While you’re getting past the shock.”

She didn’t read too much into this kindness, besides that he wanted to keep his breeding stock healthy, especially since his tone was more like a healer going about his patient rounds than someone who cared.

He was a cold man, this Lord Dresedel, and unnaturally old. She had known people older than him, but they showed their age. Dorn looked to be in a man’s middle years, and in peak health. He was lean, tall, and muscular, with clear dark eyes lined in kohl and smooth brown skin. His thick black curls were cut unfashionably short, like a warrior. She couldn’t deny that he was a handsome man, even for a Daramon, but that didn’t seem to make it any easier. In some ways, it only made her shy back even more, terrified that he could coerce her into actually enjoying herself. He could also enchant her, or drug her. 

Tashaya had been trapped by her illness for so long. She burned for movement, travel, experience. She could be easily manipulated—if she didn’t stay on her guard at all times.

She could only bear this if she could return to Sairi unchanged and unmoved by the experience—or better yet, if she was able to escape, or sabotage Dorn’s plans with the dark dragon.

She ate the soup slowly, as if the only thing forcing her to eat was Dorn’s watchful eye. She didn’t want him to think she was enjoying herself. Unfortunately, it was also very tasty and she was actually starving. But this soup would be her first test of discipline.

“We’re sailing to Nalim Ima,” he said, while she sipped at it. “You will be a guest at my estate, with your own private chambers, a ladies’ maid. Not a Fanarlem, mind you, as I know you wouldn’t care for that. I will also be bringing in a live-in midwife to monitor the pregnancy right from the start, since…if I am not mistaken, no one besides the Queen of Songs has ever carried the dragon-born?”

“That’s…true,” Tashaya said, swallowing hard.

“And it is a difficult birth for her, even so. I do want to assure you that your life will take priority over the babies, if the worst should happen. It is not my intention to sacrifice you in order to have the dragon-born.”

“How kind.”

He laughed faintly, and seemed to appreciate her sarcasm. “I just want you to know, my people do what needs to be done to survive. I know you think we treat our women like breeders. But we are not cruel. We know that happy mothers have healthy babies.”

“I don’t think there is any possibility I’m going to be very happy about being kidnapped and torn from my home.”

“You consented.”

“I consented because you threatened Atorra’s life if I didn’t.”

“Kurala threatened Atorra’s life,” he said, in a chillingly matter-of-fact tone. “Not me.”

“But aren’t you one and the same now? Didn’t you take on his spirit and power?”

“His soul is lying in wait here,” Dorn said. “I have agreed to give him shelter. We are not the same, anymore than a houseguest would be. All of your dealings will be with me, not him, except the very moment of consummation.”

“I wonder,” she said. “Will Kurala really be content just to sleep in your body and lend you his power?”

“If it comes down to a test of wills,” he said, “…bet on me.”

His confidence was intimidating; it seemed another reminder of his age and power that he felt he could overpower and outwit the spirit of an ancient dragon. 

“I’ll let you eat in peace,” he said. “Kitta, your ladies’ maid, and Magitha, the midwife, will be here in the next hour or two to meet with you. Until then, feel free to rest, read, or roam the house as you feel comfortable. Just do stay in the house so I can assure your safety here.” He waved a hand. “Do you have any questions?”

“I—uh—when do you plan to…when will the babies be conceived?”

“After the midwife has looked you over to make sure you aren’t suffering any lingering health effects from the curse that should be addressed first.”

“I see.”

He paused, and when she didn’t say anything else, he left her alone.

Well, at least I certainly can’t say he seems to want anything from me besides my royal blood. She had always heard Kalanites would take whatever they wanted from women who weren’t their wives, and then she couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t like her face or thought she was too fat. 

Then she shook her head and got down to devouring the rest of the soup, because she was starving and who cared what a bloody Kalanite thought of her? She actually felt well. No pains, no fever. She had known only the briefest of “good days” in her entire life, and if she could get out of this safely, she finally had a real life ahead of her. 

Without him staring at her, she wolfed down the soup in minutes, and then slid out of bed to inspect the room. Even at a glance, the style was strikingly different from Kota Castle, with very tall windows. The bed had a canopied frame with curtains made from a silvery blue brocade and the thickest mattress she had ever seen. A rug with an elaborate pattern covered most of the wooden floor, and the furniture was heavy, dark wood. Just this room had a bookcase with glass doors; a washstand with a pitcher and basin; a desk with nooks and crannies stashed with papers, writing instruments, blotters, and so on; a rocking chair by the window, and a trunk. There were two different paintings on the walls, one a snowy forested landscape and the other a romantic depiction of a lady styled as in the Age of Kings, draped on a chaise in long hair and gown.

It all seemed very lavish, almost excessive, and she wondered if he had somehow known he would be bringing her here and prepared this room for her. Surely a simple guest room wouldn’t be stocked with so many books and two fine paintings, where few people would see them?

She moved to the window and pushed both curtains aside. The windows had large panes and ran nearly floor to ceiling, and they overlooked the ocean. Dorn’s home seemed to rest cliffside, so that when she looked down she saw just a sliver of rocky path, and then blue ocean meeting blue sky, with several ships at varying distances. The ships had what looked like smoke-spewing chimney stacks, just as Sairi described, although there were also ordinary sailboats out there. Fishermen, maybe.

To the far right she could just barely see the rocky, treacherous curve of the shore. She knew Nalim Ima was a large island, bigger than the kingdom of Drai in land mass, but it shared some of Drai’s problems with usable land. 

Still, she had never seen the ocean before. It looked endless, and that meant they had sailed the northern strait. There was an entire continent between her and her home in either direction.

“You’re back!” she heard someone call out in the distance, quite loudly.

She crept from her room, peering out to a hall that led to a landing with a circular window above the grand staircase. The voices were downstairs.

“I’m tired,” Dorn said below her feet, in a softer voice than the more gregarious man greeting him.

“I won’t stay long. But I had to stop by for a report, curses! Did you manage anything?”

“I managed nearly everything,” Dorn said, with a hint of pride. “But keep your voice down. I brought back Lady Tashaya, King Harrai’s cousin. She will bear the dragon heirs. ”

“Didn’t it have to be the queen, per legend and all?” But then the man answered his own question, “Well, one must improvise. I’m sure you can make it work. I can feel the power crackling off you. May I?”

“No, you may not,” Dorn said, with the bemused tolerance one would only reserve for a friend.

“I have business to discuss with you when you get a chance. Or sooner. I’m sailing south tomorrow. I’m afraid you’re beating me to immortality.”

“I’m definitely beating you.”

“Bah! You don’t have to rub it in. All right. My place, tonight?”

“I’ll be over once I’ve settled my guest in with Kitta and Githa.”

“I’ll save you some port.”

“All right.”

Tashaya peered down to see the famous flash of red hair on a very tall man. The Peacock General. Well, of course. She was in the den of wolves. He was one of Dorn’s closest comrades. She wondered if that meant even the Wodrenarune himself would be a guest, or if perhaps he was too important even for the Four Generals and they always went to him.

She slunk back to her room, hugging herself. Any thoughts of escape—especially with the babies—seemed delusional. These were the most powerful opponents. She hadn’t seen any guards, but they had to be there—no doubt of that—and some of them would be telepathic. 

She sat on the bed as panic crept in. It would probably all go just as Dorn said, and she would be helpless to stop it. Sex with Dorn’s body and Kurala’s spirit, six months of dangerous pregnancy, and then he would send her home and the only dragon born heirs the world was likely to know would be here, raised as Kalanites.

My children. Raised to see me, and Atorra and Harrai, as the enemy.

And I agreed to help them with their long game.

But what choice did I have?

Or is that just an excuse? Would my mother have ever agreed to this? Tashaya smashed her hands against her face, swallowing tears. Everyone said how strong Mother was, but they never told me how to follow in her footsteps. No one expected strength out of me, and they didn’t get it. This might have been my chance to save the kingdom, and I failed. 

Chimes rang out somewhere in the house, jolting her to alertness, but they didn’t seem to mean anything. Footsteps pattered around the house, probably servants. No one checked on her for a bit, but then she heard a door open somewhere, and women’s voices greeting Dorn. He mentioned her name and they all came up the stairs.

“Lady Tashaya,” he said, finding her standing up to receive them, all tears wiped away. “This is Miss Kitta, your ladies’ maid. She will be at hand to attend you at all times, unless you dismiss her to have some time alone, of course.”

“My lady! An honor!” Kitta looked very young and spritely, and bowed in a manic way, quick enough that her clothes made a snapping noise. She seemed rather like the living embodiment of caffeine, and Tashaya would have almost found her reassuring, except for the presence of the woman beside her.

“This is your midwife, Magitha,” Dorn continued. “She will stay in the room across from yours, oversee your meals and health, and examine you twice a day throughout the pregnancy. As I promised you, your health will be my greatest priority. If Magitha senses any grave danger at any time, the pregnancy will be induced immediately, with all care given to you.”

Tashaya supposed Dorn was trying to reassure her, but it had the opposite effect of making her aware that she would be watched night and day.

By…this woman.

Chapter

Magitha was a Halnari Miralem. A traitor. 

Of course Tashaya had attended the dinner with the Halnari diplomats. Magitha looked almost exactly like them. All Halnari looked quite similar; they were shape-shifted throughout their youth to fit a very narrow beauty standard. Their faces all shared the same bland perfection, and they were all tall and impossibly willowy with freakishly narrow waists and oddly long and narrow feet. How old was Magitha? It was impossible to say besides that she was somewhere in the long space between dewy youth and fragile old age.

The only thing slightly different about her is that she was dressed for some work. Unlike the Halnari envoys, her sleeves didn’t drag on the ground, nor did the hem of her robes. Her braids were longer than her body, but they were woven and pinned up to double back on themselves, so they only hung to her hips in heavy dark coils. 

“Good afternoon, my lady,” Magitha said, offering a slight bow. “I’ll take very good care of you.”

“Magitha was the midwife for the Red General, Lady Lisandra,” Dorn said.

She probably wasn’t young, then.

An older woman was undoubtedly a skilled telepath, probably here not just to watch over Tashaya’s health, but also to make sure she didn’t try anything.

“Good afternoon,” Tashaya said, resisting her nervous fidgets.

“Do you mind if I give you a brief examination to see how you’re recovering from your curse?” Magitha asked. “You don’t need to disrobe, but can just have a seat if you like.”

“You can report the results to me downstairs,” Dorn said, nodding at her.

Maybe he was trying to give her privacy, but she almost wished he would stay. At least Kitta was still there.

“Can I do anything to help?” Kitta asked.

“Not yet,” Magitha said. “But I’ll let you know.”

Tashaya reluctantly perched on the edge of the bed, and Magitha gently touched her fingers to Tashaya’s neck. Her touch was warm and undeniably comforting. She looked Tashaya right in the eyes. 

“Good clear eyes and skin,” she said. “You definitely need more sun.” She moved her hand down to Tashaya’s chest, where the mark had been. “Mm…I do feel that.”

Tashaya would have stiffened, had she not already been as stiff as possible. “Is the curse still…?”

“No. It’s gone, but a little clearing magic would not be a bad idea. These things leave sort of a scar sometimes. Like a psychic mark. A part of you expects it to be there, and to feel its effects. But that’s good. Your energy is, overall, very strong.”

“It is?”

“Yes. Very. With this curse gone, you might find that you have more energy than you know what to do with! Your blood runs like fire.”

Tashaya’s eyes widened. “Oh no, am I going to be sweaty?”

“Sweaty?”

“It was sort of a family joke that my mother was always sweaty and barely needed a coat in winter.”

Magitha laughed. “It’s possible. I could teach you some mental techniques for regulating your body temperature, if that troubles you.”

“It’s okay,” Tashaya said quickly, realizing she had let her guard down  too quickly. Magitha’s touch was so gentle. After all, I never knew my mother so I’m an easy mark. But I won’t forget that she’s a Halnari and she’s helping the Black General with all his plans.

“Do you mind if I place my hand over your reproductive system?” Magitha asked.

“Do I have a choice? That’s what Lord Dresedel wants, isn’t it?”

“I can check from a distance,” Magitha said. “But it will be more thorough if I can place my hand here.” She put a palm flat over her own abdomen.

“Would you like to lie down?” Kitta offered, plumping pillows, itching for something to do.

“No, just get it over with and give him what he wants,” Tashaya said.

Magitha and Kitta’s silence was damning when Tashaya criticized him. They couldn’t reassure her, because surely they knew exactly what was about to happen. 

Magitha’s hand was so very gentle when she touched Tashaya, and her other hand was reassuring at her back. At least, it was hard not to think so, because she certainly did have a healer’s touch. Tashaya’s whole life had been dominated by healers who struggled to fight off the curse and keep her comfortable, but few had such natural warmth and comfort to their touch.

Oh, goddess keep me strong. She is here to lull me into a sense of safety, and I must never forget she’s here to help Dorn steal the dragon born from me, and from Kota.

“You’re very healthy,” Magitha said. “I must say…you do need some rest, good food, sun, and most of all, exercise. But your natural vigor is incredibly powerful, Lady Tashaya.”

“Truly? After all of that time with the curse? It’s…just gone?”

Magitha nodded. “You’re probably not used to thinking of yourself as a powerful woman. But you are, to hold onto your strength in the face of such a dark curse. As I said…I feel this scar on your soul that tells me just how severe it was. But we can heal this, and you will be coming into your true power now that you’re no longer busy fighting with this curse all the time.”

“You certainly know how to say what I’d want to hear. But I’m sure it also won’t matter. You’re here to make sure my powers, whatever they might be, are contained for the next six or seven months.”

Magitha blinked and drew back a step. “I’m not concerned about that myself, my lady. Even escaping to Laionesse would be quite an impressive feat from here, and if you managed to accomplish it, I could hardly be anything but impressed! But I am simply here to nourish your strength, and even your powers. The children will certainly be stronger for having a strong mother.”

“The children,” Tashaya said. “My children…” Magitha’s perfectly practiced kindness was about to snap her. “I’ve made such a mistake.” She covered her face. “You got what you needed, right? Just leave me alone now, both of you.”

“Oh, my lady!” Kitta said. “You know, after they’re born, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to! I’d bet Lord Dresedel is lonely and—“

Magitha dropped a hand on Kitta’s shoulder. “Kitta, she’s homesick. She doesn’t want to hear your romantic ideas. Let’s listen to what our new mistress asks, eh?”

They left Tashaya to curl up on the bed again, but when the door shut, her tears seemed to dry right up, even though she was still just as miserable and frightened as before.

Some other note had tainted the purity of her tears, like the wrong ingredient in a dish. 

The people here…

They were simply not as easy to hate as she had anticipated.

Chapter

In the evening, Kitta returned to offer her dinner, a freshly washed nightgown, and the expression of someone eager to talk. Tashaya usually liked company, but she wasn’t ready for it now.

“Lord Dresedel said to tell you, by the way, that he thinks you need a few days before…you know, anything. Get some rest!”

“Stars, I rather wish he’d just get it over with,” Tashaya said.

Kitta looked anxious. “Should—should I tell him that?”

“No.”

Tashaya tossed and turned all night. She had never tried to sleep anywhere besides her own room—she had barely left Kota Castle at all. The room smelled pleasantly of sea air and her nightgown bore a very faint aroma of jasmine, but the room felt so imposing and she ached for anything familiar. She couldn’t bear the thought of six months here. Tears came in waves, and it was exhausting to cry with no one to comfort her. 

By the time the sun rose, she greeted it with weary relief. At least things would happen to distract her, she supposed.

Indeed, they did. Kitta brought her a breakfast of fried eggs, smoked fish, a savory potato patty, and some mixed fruits on the side. 

“Lord Dresedel would definitely like to have his afternoon meal with you, he said,” Kitta said. “Would you like to take a walk in the gardens? Get some sunshine?”

“Sure…”

“They’re full of flowers! You’ll love them! What do you like to wear? What’s your favorite color? Can I guess?”

“If you like.”

“Blue?”

“I actually like all the colors,” Tashaya said. “But I like blue, if you have something you’re eager to dress me in.”

“Oh, if blue’s not your favorite I like red,” Kitta said.

Tashaya was already having trouble keeping up with where Kitta’s thoughts were going. But that’s good! That sort of wild scatterbrain energy will keep me distracted.

Kitta brought her a crimson robe with a blue underskirt. It barely fit; of course it was made for some slender Kalanite woman. They weren’t quite as strict as the Halnari Miralem about keeping up appearances, but they were certainly not far off. Kitta, at least, didn’t seem to have a judgmental bone in her body and gushed that Tashaya had beautiful curls and beautiful eyes and declared that she was “luscious” in red. “Lord Dresedel will swoon when he sees you!” she added.

“I hope not,” Tashaya said. “I don’t require that sort of response.”

They took a stroll in the garden, which covered the eastern slopes of the hill below the house. Tashaya certainly felt out of shape, struggling to keep up with Kitta’s pace on the elevated terrain. But that was understandable. Sick girls didn’t trek up and down hills. She was sweating and breathing hard in no time, but—

No fever or chills. No aches or pains. No dizziness. 

She kept brushing her fingers over the old spot where the mark once burned. She had been so close to death and now it was gone; there was only life ahead.

“I feel like a queen myself whenever I walk around these gardens,” Kitta said. “Even though they’re not mine, Lord Dresedel lets us all enjoy them and they’re just so pretty!” She stopped to sniff all the flowers. “That one barely smells like anything! Ooh, but this one’s good. Smell this one!”

The garden was indeed beautiful, expansive and sprawling and a little more wild than the one in Kota Castle. Tashaya realized that Lord Dresedel was old enough that he had probably seen to the planting of evergreens that were now sky-high. The patches of floral meadow, the wild roses, the rambling creeks that tumbled down the rocky hill were probably planned down to the last detail, but they looked entirely natural. 

Six months is a long time, Tashaya thought. What if I started to like it here? What if it started to feel like home?

That was the most terrifying prospect of all.

She had grown up in Kota Castle, but she had never been happy there until Atorra came and offered her friendship, and Sairi came and offered love. Until then, no one seemed to care all that much about her. She was too sick to be useful, and a living reminder of the curse upon the kingdom. 

What if—

Could they slip away from me?

Sairi’s touch?

Atorra’s companionship?

“This one’s the best yet!” Kitta offered her a flower, but then they both heard the carriage approaching quickly. Their view was blocked by hedges. Urgent voices came from the house.

“What?” Lord Dresedel said clearly, and then, “Show him in.” Then, sharply, “Yes, that is my order!” And then she heard him speak her name. 

“Let’s get back to the house!” Kitta said, grabbing up flowers she had scooped into her apron. “Sounds like you have a visitor! I’ll make some bouquets for your room.”

“A visitor? Who would want to visit me?”

“Who knows? Maybe one of the head sorcerers? Fates, imagine if it was Lord Jherin himself? He never visits anyone!”

Tashaya huffed up the path, barely managing to stay at Kitta’s heels—her lady in waiting was certainly not much for waiting—and Lord Dresedel was at the doors watching their approach by the time they reached the fountains by the windows. 

Standing just behind him, looking exhausted and bruised, was Sairi Hlefyndris himself.

Chapter

“Mr. Hlefyndris!” she said, slipping into formality under Dorn’s dark and serious gaze. “You—you shouldn’t have—put yourself in danger…” Goddess, she wanted to pour out explanations of why on earth she had run off with the enemy. “I’m so sorry,” she said, hoping that conveyed a thousand other words.

Sairi swept into a bow on one knee. “My Lady Tashaya,” he said.

She flushed. That certainly wasn’t necessary, like he was her servant and she was a queen.

Or—is that the idea? Is he playing a part?

Two men stood behind him; one a Halnari and one probably a sorcerer. Guarding him.

“He followed you here,” Dorn said. “Our telepaths dragged him out of the sky this morning and I’m afraid we had to band him immediately.”

“Band him?”

Dorn motioned to Sairi’s neck, where he wore a slender band of gold, barely visible under his jacket. “Like mine, but of the sort that suppresses telepathy. If he’s skilled, it probably can’t tamp it down entirely, but it keeps the levels safe so he can’t manipulate us.”

*You shouldn’t have come after me,* Tashaya spoke to his mind. “Are you hurt, Mr. Hlefyndris?” she said aloud.

*No. I knew what would happen, but I wanted to come,* he replied, and she felt how weak his signal was. When he looked up at her, the band was now obvious, as his shirt had an open collar. Just a glimpse of his lean, tanned chest under the gold made her even more flustered. I’m so happy to see him…but this is terrible.

“I’m not hurt at all,” Sairi said. “Just a few dents and dings. It was my duty as a Sreyelan to follow my mistress.”

“I see,” Dorn said. “Sreyelan customs…so much the opposite of ours. It’s all right, he can stay. I’m not worried about him.” He nodded to the guards, dismissing them. “If it helps Lady Tashaya’s homesickness during her months here, I don’t care. But if you have sex with her before she is carrying the dragon born, I will take care of that situation. Is that clear to both of you?”

“If—I mean—no—we—” Tashaya wanted to die. He was so matter of fact.

“Yes, understood,” Sairi said, back on his feet now.

Dorn put a hand on her shoulder. “Lady Tashaya, this is not a relationship. This is practical. I understand that you already have a liasion with him, and I don’t care if you continue it, as long as you save yourself for Kurala’s children first. I’m sure you two would like to talk in private, so go to your rooms and tell Kitta to report to me in my study. I’ll give her something to do so she doesn’t listen at doors.”

“Thank you,” Tashaya said, warily.

“I am not here to play the villain on purpose, you know,” he said, with a slight arch of his brow. “Why in curses would I care if you want your winged fellow around, especially if he’s willing to risk his skin to come after you? You’re going home in seven months.”

“Of course. Yes. That makes sense.”

Dorn strode off and Tashaya looked at Sairi, dying to crumple into his arms, but at the same time—he shouldn’t have come.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Why?” Sairi asked.

“He forced me to come with him.”

“Of course I know that,” Sairi said.

“But—I can’t blame you at all if you were upset with me. I agreed to…have his children. Or Kurala’s children, at least. And I think I really should have put up more of a fight than I did. You flew halfway across the world to get me and they could have killed you.”

“It’s only a third across the world, actually,” he said. “And the winds are kind at this time of year.”

“They suppressed your telepathy! And you didn’t have to bow to me like that; I hardly deserve it!” Her eyes were suddenly drowning in tears.

“Let’s get you out of the hallway,” he said, putting a wing around her. “Everything’s okay. Where is your room?”

“Everything is not okay,” she blubbered. “Upstairs…”

Once in her room, her tears poured out. “I’m so scared. I had to agree, to lift my curse and protect Atorra from Kurala. And I can’t escape it. I’m glad you’re here but I don’t want to hurt you; I don’t want you to have to watch all of this, having children with someone else and—”

“Tashaya,” he said firmly, taking her hands in his grip. His wings were like a bat, shaped from his arms, but he had a thumb and index finger. She knew Sreyelans made heavy use of their telekinesis to make up for not having hands, as well as to help them fly. Losing most of his telepathic ability while he was here with her would be more crippling to him than most people.

“Don’t you dare lie to me and tell me this is okay to you,” she said.

“I’m furious that you’ve been put in this position,” he said. “That’s why I went after you immediately. But I am okay. I wanted to go after you, and I don’t blame you at all. If you have to endure all this, I don’t want you to be alone.”

“What if they’d shot you down?”

“As soon as I was within range I sent a telepathic message that I was surrendering. They had no reason to shoot me down. They wouldn’t want to encourage the Sreyelans to ally with the Drai. Was there some risk? Sure. But I’ve taken plenty of risks in my life. I’m still here.”

She swiped her tears away. “But your telepathy— You need that—”

“Would you stop worrying about everyone else for a minute?” He scowled briefly. “You’ve been cursed all your life, and now you’ve been kidnapped and coerced into this terrible situation. Let me worry about you. On behalf of everyone back home. I won’t need my telepathy here. I don’t think they’ll want me flying anywhere.”

“You really don’t mind all this?”

“I mind you being in this position. If we can figure a way out, we will. If not, I’ll be here with you so that you’re not alone. And,” he added, “so you won’t forget about me. Because I know I’m not going to forget about you.”

She shut her eyes, slumping with relief. “Thank you…”

He put his wings around her now and she leaned against him. This was better than she had ever imagined, that he would actually come this far just to be with her. He would be her anchor, and when it was all over, he would go home with her, and…

“Just to warn you,” he added. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m going to play a part here. I don’t want to get their hackles up. I defer to you, my lady.” He raised his eyebrows. “But don’t get used to it.”

She laughed. “You mean, for the next seven months I get to be the domineering lady, but as soon as we get home, it’s all over?”

“Pretty much. I’m stubborn and hot-headed and I’ve never been good at following orders, but I am good at pretending that I am, in fact, cool-headed and mannered.”

“Oh really? I see. So you play the scholarly type while in fact, you’ll fly one third of the way around the world right into enemy territory just to be sure you don’t lose track of your current floozy.” She was teasing him now. Well, mostly. His description did make her wonder if he’d ever had other girls he would do this for.

“Almost correct,” he said. “You’re more of my damsel in distress.”

“Your current damsel in distress?”

“Hopefully my only!” His mouth suddenly snapped open in sudden understanding. “Wait—are you thinking I’ve had other women in my life?”

“I’ve never asked. It sounds like the girls of the Pipa Islands had their eye on you…”

“All right,” he said. “I’ve had one fling. It was while I was looking for my father, so I was feeling vulnerable. I stayed at the same inn for a month, and it was run by an unmarried Miralem woman. We ended up sharing a bed for most of that month—but it wasn’t serious. I knew that almost right away, and she did too—though she still got upset when I left. She knew I didn’t belong there. She was quite a bit older than me, too. Much more settled.”

“I see…”

“Looking back, I feel a little embarrassed by it. But you have to start somewhere.”

“No, don’t be,” she said. “I suppose I might have had a fling too, if my health was better. I certainly dreamed of it.”

“If we end up being a fling,” Sairi added. “That is, you’re well now, and if you decide you’ve changed and grown and want something else…I don’t think I’ll ever regret sticking with you through this. I think you deserve the feeling of having someone in your corner. I’m not sure you’ve—“ He hesitated. “This isn’t meant as an insult to the king and queen, just—”

“I understand,” she said. “I have been ignored. Not by Atorra, or even by Harrai, really. It’s just easy to forget about someone like me, because I can’t get out and remind them. I don’t think you’ll be a fling, because I don’t think I’ll forget that you…saw me. Even when I was sick.”

“I just want you to know that I am here to protect you, without expectation of sex, marriage, or children. In that regard, it’s not an act. I am your loyal servant, because you are the Lady Tashaya, an ally of my people, and I’m the only one who could get here without bringing a dragon into the mix.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning against him again, her hands clinging to the lean, powerful muscles of his shoulders. “Although…I hope there will be sex.”

“Wait,” he said. “Before you say things like that. I don’t want Dorn to kill me. Or—worse. Goddess, he’s a Balumi Islander; I’m sticking to his good side.”

She laughed, and tried to be satisfied just to touch his silky straight hair and his skin and tease his necklaces of beads out from under his shirt and twist them in her fingers. To drink in that wild wind-swept scent of him and listen to the sharpened quality of his accent.

I can manage all of this, if he is here, she lied to herself.