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THE BANQUET ENDED ON a sour note for Laerwen. Whenever she had a moment alone with Andahar to exchange pleasantries, Randir would intrude. He did his best to keep her away from the prince as well as continue with his unwanted advances.
She couldn’t help but reflect on the way Randir acted. They had been betrothed when she was a girl. Her parents had chosen him because he was the son of one of their Lord-Regents. He would make a fine husband, her father said. A fine king, her mother said.
He had never pursued her romantically before. And now suddenly when there was no kingdom left to her, he doubled his efforts to want her.
She relished the moment when she could excuse herself and retreat to her chamber. To silence. As she leaned against the door, taking in deep breaths, she saw two stacks of neatly folded clothes on the edge of her bed. Beside them, the veil. Nell must have left the clothes. Laerwen was impressed they had managed to make the clothes so quickly.
She rushed to the veil and grabbed it up, letting the length of it fall to the floor. It was in perfect, pristine condition. Cleaned, just as Nell had promised. She was grateful she had rescued it from the rubble and held the softness against her cheek, remembering all that was lost.
Thinking of her parents, her lost kingdom, overwhelmed her control. Her calm. She sank to the edge of the bed and then curled into a ball. She pressed her forehead into her knees, letting her emotions overcome her. She hadn’t allowed that the entire trek through the Heartlands to the Woodlands. She had been strong. She had been commanding. She had been in charge. Randir had stood by her side.
And yet...it hadn’t changed anything. Her parents were still dead. Her kingdom was still destroyed. Hot tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. The dam had broken. At long last.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, weeping for what was. Feeling sorry for herself. Nor did it truly matter. When she finally regained her composure, she buried her face in the coverlet.
What was she to do? She didn’t want to marry Randir. She didn’t want to marry anyone. She hadn’t a kingdom.
But she had her life.
What she saw in her travels through the Heartlands with the remaining Fire Elves had shredded her heart. So many dead. So many gone. Entire villages wiped out. Homes burned to the ground. Women and children murdered. It had been awful to go through the rubble to find survivors. There were none. They never found any.
Laerwen rolled to her back and stared up at the knotted ceiling. She examined it, marveled at it. It was made entirely of tree wood. Her tears had dried but she couldn’t kick the despair that pressed against her. Somehow, she had to find a way to go on. Mayhap even rebuild the Hin’dar Rhule.
Shoving from the bed, she stumbled over to the windows to peer out. Dawn was breaking, turning the indigo sky into that of the pale pink she had long loved. As she leaned against the window frame, a knock sounded on her door.
Who could be calling so early? Unless it was the servant girls.
One quick glance in the looking glass showed her face smudged with tears. She splashed cold water on her face. The knock sounded again.
“One moment,” she called.
She hadn’t even changed from the gown she wore last evening. It was crumpled around her body. Creased and wrinkled. As if she’d slept in it. And she would have if she’d been able to sleep. When she finally opened the door, she was startled to see Prince Andahar standing on the other side.
He took in her appearance in one swift glance. “My apologies, Princess. Is it...too early?”
“I...” She glanced down at her clothes, smoothed her hands down her skirt. “I had a long night.”
“I should let you rest.” He turned to go.
“No!” At her sharp response, he turned back. Curiosity etched his face. “I mean...please come in.” She swung the door wider and stepped aside.
Andahar entered and she closed the door behind him. He walked to the window and shoved open the draperies to let in the early morning light. “Your room faces east. I do hope you like the sunrise.”
When he smiled at her, her stomach did a flip.
“I do. Thank you.” She inclined her head and watched him prowl the room. Looking for someone, mayhap? “Is there something you needed, your highness?”
“Aye.” He halted, his highly polished boots—riding boots, she noticed—scraping on the wood floor. “I must insist you call me Andahar.”
Heat warmed her cheeks as the blush crawled across her skin. She couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ve never been one to stand on rules of decorum.” He winked.
She grinned. “Very well then. You must call me Laerwen.”
Andahar closed the space between them in three steps. He scooped her hand into his. Her breath caught in her throat as he bent and his lips brushed across her skin. When he straightened, his eyes held a twinkle of mirth.
“I would be honored.”
She was reluctant to remove her hand and allowed him to continue to hold it. “Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” Her heart did a wild thump.
“As am I. Mayhap you’ll tell me what troubles you.”
Laerwen pulled her hand free and turned away. He had seen her face. He must have known she had been crying. Damn it all to the gods. “Nothing.”
“Come now, Prin—Laerwen. You and I both know that’s not the truth of it.”
He moved to stand behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body press over her, through her, comforting her. Her eyes fluttered closed but he didn’t touch her. Not again. He stood there as though he were nothing more than her rock. Her steadfast supporter.
Wouldn’t it be nice to let him take some of the burden? Nay, she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right to tell him. To ask him.
“Please tell me.” His voice was soft and low next to her ear. The deep timbre sent goose bumps skittering through her.
“I...I’m so...alone.”
“You are not alone,” he said firmly. “As long as you’re in my kingdom you are never alone.”
“I know. I appreciate that. But you cannot know what it’s like to be without a home.”
“I don’t know. You’re right. I want to help you. And I swear on my honor we will find these Fomorians and exact justice.”
She smiled. He sounded so sure of himself. “I hope so.”
And then his hands landed on her shoulders. Warm, strong, sure hands. “When all this is over, I should like to help you rebuild the Hin’dar Rhule.”
Her heart squeezed at his words. How kind of him to want to do that. Tears threatened once again and she blinked them away. “That’s a gracious offer.”
“One you’ll accept, I hope.”
Gods, she would be a fool not to. “I do.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
He released her and moved back toward the window. She angled her body to see him. To watch him. He moved with the stealth and grace of a cat. Or a creature of the night.
“How about a bit of fun?” he asked as he looked out the window.
“Fun?”
“My brother will be visiting soon with his new bride, Lady Talaiel of the Skye Elves. I intended to ride out to meet them.” He turned to look at her then. “Would you like to accompany me?”
A slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I would love it. I just need a moment to change.” She swept her hands down her crumpled gown.
“Of course. I’ll wait for you in the dining hall. When you’re ready, meet me there.”
She watched him walk to the door, all fluid grace. As though he walked through water. He was so unlike Randir who was nothing more than a big, bumbling oaf of a man with more muscles than sense. Mayhap that’s why she never really liked him. He wasn’t her intellectual equal and he never would be. He was merely someone with whom to produce an heir.
And now even that didn’t matter so much. Her kingdom was gone.
She quickly changed into something more suitable. Instead of changing into another gown, she opted for long billowy pants that floated around her legs and gave the illusion of a skirt. She pulled on a long tunic that fell just below her waist. Then she covered her hair with the opaque veil she’d arrived in, the last vestige of her beloved mother, letting it cover her hair and fall down her back.
One glance in the looking glass, though, told her she looked far from rested. She had dark circles under her eyes. Laerwen couldn’t deny how tired she was from her night of fitful sleep, however she didn’t want to refuse the company of the prince. She would be alone with him for a ride through the Woodlands. Her heart did a strange skip as she smoothed her veil.
She was as ready as she would ever be. When she opened the door to her chamber, she nearly ran into Randir who stood on the other side, his arm raised as if to knock. Her excitement skittered into dread and annoyance.
“Lord Randir, what are you doing here?”
“I came to escort you to breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.” She pushed past him and into the hallway. Even as she said it, her stomach rumbled in response. She was suddenly ravenous at the thought of food.
Randir fell in step beside her. Damn him. “Where are you going then?”
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m going for a ride.”
“Do you think that’s wise with the Fomorians still on the loose?”
Halting, she turned to him and drew in a sharp breath before releasing it in a huff. “Let’s get one thing straight, Randir. I do not report to you. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.”
She started back toward the dining hall trying to think of a way to shake him. He still followed her and she didn’t want him to know she was meeting Andahar. Otherwise, he would bully his way into their private time together and she wasn’t willing to give that up.
“Are you taking a guard with you? How do you know it will be safe? Mayhap I should go with you.”
Frustrated, she whirled on him. She put her hands on his chest and shoved him back. “Stop. Just stop it. I don’t need you hovering over me.”
“Laerwen—”
“I mean it! Go away, Randir.”
His face fell and she didn’t miss the look of complete devastation he gave her. She couldn’t care about that right now. All she could think about was getting to Andahar. She hurried her pace and found him right where he said he’d be. He smiled when he saw her.
She took his arm and steered him toward the door.
“Are we in a hurry?”
“We are now,” she said, trying to keep her voice light.
“Someone following you?” He didn’t look over his shoulder to check. Instead, his gaze focused on her.
“Oh, you know. The usual.”
“Randir?” he asked, his voice low-pitched so only she could hear.
She bit her lip and nodded.
“Then let’s see if we can lose him, shall we?”
Oh, she liked the way he thought. She squeezed his arm as they exited the palace walls and headed down the rope bridge, the wooden slats clanking together with their hurried steps. They made it to the ancient tree with the winding staircase a moment later and started their descent. Andahar had a quicker pace than she did, but she managed to keep up. As they headed down, the giggle started to bubble up in her throat. By the time they made it to the bottom, she was out of breath with laughter and exertion. She leaned against the tree, her heart racing at a furious beat as she gulped in air to catch her breath.
“That...was...exhilarating.” She looked at him standing near her, smiling and barely breathing hard. It wasn’t fair. “Why aren’t you...out of breath?”
“My dear princess, I’m quite used to the stairs.” He held out his hand. “Come. I have just the horse for you.”
Laerwen loved that idea. She loved that he wanted to touch her. To hold her hand. To keep her close. She slipped her fingers in his and they hurried off. It seemed silly to be walking so fast to get away from Randir when she wasn’t even sure he followed. She was sure she’d hurt his feelings, though, and for that she would have to apologize. She tried to ignore her pangs of guilt. The man didn’t mean any harm. He merely thought they were still betrothed and he would continue to think that until she had it broken.
She must speak with Hiram soon.
“Have you ever seen a Skye Elf?” Andahar asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“No, I haven’t.”
His jade eyes twinkled with anticipation and mischief. “Then you’re in for a treat.”
“I thought the Skye Elves never left their realm.”
“They don’t. Not usually. But my brother, Lord Eldrin, has been slowly changing their mind.”
They arrived at the stables and four horses were already ready and waiting. One of the stable boys waited for them and bowed low when they arrived.
“Your mounts are ready, your highness.”
“Thank you, Phillip.”
“Four horses?” she asked. “Are you expecting company?”
“Horses for my brother and his wife,” he said. “And this is Moonshadow, my sister’s horse. A fine mount for you to ride.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“She won’t mind. Besides, she’s distracted by her husband at the moment.” He winked.
Ah, yes. Her husband the human knight, Sir Drake. “Well, if you’re certain.”
At his nod, she stuck her sandaled foot in the stirrup and swung her leg over the saddle. A moment later, he was mounted and ready to go. They wasted no time in heading for the gates and exiting. Lord Navin, Andahar’s younger brother, gave them a silent nod of farewell as they left.
So Andahar had two brothers, Lord Eldrin and Lord Navin, and a sister, Allanna, who was the youngest. Laerwen was aware of the guards following at a discreet distance. They also led the spare mounts.
“I’m afraid I can go nowhere unattended. Especially with the Fomorians still in hiding,” Andahar said. “I’ve asked the guards to stay back.”
“The Fomorians are in hiding?”
“From what information we’ve gathered, once they destroyed the Hin’dar Rhule, they disappeared. We’re not sure where they are. Mayhap to regroup and prepare to attack again. I don’t know.”
That was unsettling. Her gut twisted at the thought they would destroy another realm. Another kingdom.
“It’s strange, really,” Andahar continued. “It’s almost as though they disappeared out of the Otherworld.”
“But surely they haven’t.”
“I doubt that,” he agreed. “But I do believe they still pose a threat to us. That’s why I’ve asked Lady Talaiel and my brother to come down. I have also sent word to Queen Elyne and King Derron. I expect they’ll be joining us soon as well.”
“You’ve been able to convince the Fae rulers to come here?” Certainly she knew Queen Maeve had relinquished the throne to her daughter but she had no idea the Wood Elves were able to call upon them and they would answer that call.
“Aye,” he said. “Has news reached your realm about the Treaty of Separation?”
“No. I’d heard Queen Maeve stepped down but nothing more.”
“The Treaty was put in place between the Fae and the Wood Elves. The Fae are our closest neighbors and we had a long-standing feud that has now been abolished as well as the Treaty. Queen Elyne is quite amicable.”
She hadn’t even thought to ask the Fae for help. New hope surged within her. “So you believe the Fomorians aren’t finished? That they’ll be back?”
“I believe that, aye,” he said with a nod. “It’s only a matter of time. Lorcann is a powerful mage. He’s the one Lord-Regent Marath awoke from the Sorrow Lands.”
“And the one who is their leader.”
“We think so.”
“Those Fomorians who attacked us didn’t seem to be led by anyone. It was merely a senseless act of violence. One the Fomorians seemed to relish. Where is he now?”
“No one knows. He disappeared shortly before Marath was killed. And that’s what scares me the most.”
“And me.”
He reached out to her, clasped her hand. “I’ll make sure you’re safe. You and your people. You have my word.”
She believed him. She could hear the conviction in his voice. Knew he spoke true. And when she looked into those eyes of his, those beautiful green eyes, she could see the truth of it there too. It put her at ease. And stirred deep feelings within her she had never experienced for anyone before.
“I thank you.”
They rode on through the grasslands down the Banríon Road—the King’s Road. The road that led through the Heartlands and back toward her home. She wondered if she would ever see it again. If she would ever be able to rebuild like she hoped. But while her parents were still dead, his father’s life lingered. He still had the hope that Urdithane would recover.
“Any news on the king’s illness?” she asked.
“No change.” His mouth formed a thin line. She could tell he didn’t like talking about it.
“I’m so sorry, Andahar.”
“He hasn’t come to again. Allanna thought for certain she would see him wake if she stayed by his side. Drake had to force her away.” Andahar kept his gaze on the road ahead. Never looking at her. She could hear the emotion in his voice, knew it troubled him. “I don’t know what’s to become of him. If he doesn’t wake up...”
It was her turn to reach for him. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, her thumb caressing the soft skin there. “He will.”
Their slow trot came to a halt. He edged his horse closer to hers. When he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, her stomach fell to her knees. Which was quite a feat while sitting atop a horse. She started to remove her hand but he clamped his other one on top of it. Holding her there. Keeping her pinned.
No, not pinned. Warmth from his skin rippled through her. Her breath hitched when she realized he leaned toward her, his lips parted slightly and his eyes half-lidded.
Oh, gods, he was going to kiss her.
And she was going to let him.
She angled her head to one side as his lips brushed hers, leaving behind a tingling sensation she had never anticipated. It shuddered through her entire body right down to the ends of her toes.
When he started to move away, she knew she couldn’t let him. Her hands came up to his face, pressing against each cheek. She pulled him to her, kissed him with a sort of voraciousness even she didn’t expect or know she possessed. Their mouths collided, lips pressed against lips. Her tongue seeking his. Tasting. Teasing.
His mouth was like a velvet recess made solely for her. He tasted of wild berries and something sweet. Like honeywine. He let her take her time exploring and when he decided he wanted to be in charge, his hands lifted to her face, cupped her cheeks and tilted her head back. To deepen the kiss. To take more pleasure.
Her fingers curled into the silky strands of his hair, twining the locks between her fingers. She couldn’t stop the mewl vibrating through her throat. When his lips wandered from hers, he kissed a trail across her jaw and down her throat. Her head fell back to give him more access.
“I shouldn’t...” His breath was hot on her tingling skin.
“You should.” All thoughts of Randir, her parents, the Fomorians fled her mind. Nothing mattered but the here and now as he kissed her.
“You taste like spun sugar.” His heated words whispered across her skin.
“You taste like wild berries.”
Another kiss landed on her neck under her earlobe. “I wondered what you would taste like.”
“Did you?” Her heart picked up the pace in a wild beat that threatened to drown out any other sounds.
He hummed against her skin, which sent her senses into overdrive. He was simply driving her mad. He had to know that. When he pulled back, she could see the desire reflected in those gorgeous eyes of his. Desire, need, lust. Want. All the same things pounding through her veins.
“I did.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Now I know.”
“I hope you’re not terribly disappointed.”
“Never, Princess.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles. “I think you would never disappoint me.”
Warm pleasure spread slowly through her. But much to her dismay, he released her hand and picked up his reins. Their romantic interlude was clearly over. He clucked at the horse and they resumed their slow pace. She’d rather be kissing him. And doing other things.
“I should apologize for my lack of decorum, though.” He kept his eyes forward as he spoke.
“No apology necessary.” His sudden regret pushed the joy right out of her. She didn’t regret it. Why should he?
“Aye, it is. You belong to another. It isn’t right of me to take such liberties.”
Still he kept his gaze forward and it maddened her. “There is no reason to express such remorse, Prince Andahar. For the situation with Lord Randir is no one’s concern but my own. And, as I recall, I took it upon myself to take those liberties, as you call it.”
Anger spilled through her. She gripped the reins in her hands and kicked her horse into a gallop. It seemed as though the breath was being sucked right out of her as she rode away. Though where she was going she had no idea. All she knew was she needed to get away from him.
With some trepidation, she realized he followed her. He galloped after her as though she were on a runaway mare. When he caught up to her, he reached for her reins and pulled her to a stop. Moonshadow didn’t particularly appreciate that and reared her head, whinnying with her disapproval.
“Laerwen, look at me.”
“No.”
She turned her head away from him. She wouldn’t look at him. Why did it bother her so much that he could hurt her? He meant nothing to her. He was nothing to her. But she had begun to have feelings for him. She had begun to allow him to inch his way into her heart. And she knew it was wrong. He was not of her clan. Not of her kind. It could never work between them. A Wood Elf and a Fire Elf? She must be mad to even think for a moment it would be a possibility. But then, his brother married a Skye Elf. Was that so different?
And why were her eyes suddenly pooling with tears?
“Look at me,” he repeated, though this time his voice was more demanding. When she still refused, he cupped her chin and turned her head to face him. She blinked away the tears as quickly as possible, hoping he wouldn’t see. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” she lied. But he had. Why, she didn’t know. She couldn’t explain. Aye, you can, you dolt. You do like him. You like him more than you should. More than you ever can.
“Laerwen, I—”
“Please do not try to explain. I don’t need an explanation of anything. I understand how you feel. Truly I do. And you’re right. There can be nothing more than friendship between us as long as I’m betrothed.” She should forget her fancy for the prince and marry Randir. He was of her kind and mayhap over time, she would come to love him. Hiram would never allow her to break the betrothal anyway. He would try to talk her out of it and he would be right to.
“I should like to remain your friend,” he said. “And my offer to help rebuild your kingdom still stands.”
She nodded understanding.
Overhead, the clouds parted and two moon dragons emerged from the sky, saving her from any more uncomfortable conversation with the prince. Andahar looked toward them and smiled.
“Ah, my brother and his wife have arrived.”
Laerwen was relieved to have the distraction.
The moon dragons landed not far from them, their wings silent on the wind. They were iridescent, catching the light just so and making colors she had never seen before in a dragon’s wing. It was breathtaking and beautiful. The two dragons lowered their heads. First Lord Eldrin landed then Lady Talaiel.
Laerwen had never seen anyone more beautiful than the Lady of the Skye. Coppery hair fell in long waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes were the same color as the moon dragons—a lovely silver. Laerwen wondered if they would catch the light like the dragons’ wings. Her alabaster skin was a contrast to Laerwen’s own light brown coloring. They could not be more opposite than light and dark.
But she and the Lady of the Skye did have one thing in common—Wood Elf royalty.
Andahar dismounted and Laerwen followed his lead. The two of them walked in front of the horses where they waited for the lord and his lady.
Lord Eldrin held his hand out to Talaiel and she placed delicate fingers on the back of his hand. They walked toward them, the lady with a smile on her pale pink lips. Eldrin looked like a proud peacock strutting his feathers with his chest puffed out, clearly delighted with the woman at his side.
“Hello, my brother,” Eldrin greeted them and gave a small bow of the head. His gaze landed on Laerwen then.
“Lord Eldrin, Lady Talaiel, I should like to present to you Princess Laerwen Bloodfire of the Fire Elves,” Andahar said.
Lord Eldrin took her hand and kissed it. “Greetings, Princess. Welcome to the Woodlands. I hope my brother has been treating you well.”
“He’s been most gracious, my lord,” Laerwen said.
Lady Talaiel stepped forward and stretched out her hand. Laerwen shook it as the Lady of the Skye smiled at her. “Such a beautiful name. It’s lovely to meet you, Princess.”
“I feel quite privileged to make your acquaintance,” Laerwen said. “It isn’t often one meets a Skye Elf.”
“My people are quite reclusive. Lord Eldrin and Prince Andahar has been helping them overcome that though,” Talaiel said with a warm smile. “You’ll find the Wood Elves are most kind and generous.”
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Andahar said, changing the subject. “I am sorry I had to disturb you so soon after your wedding.”
“My wife and I understand our first duty is to the realm.” He gripped her hand in his. When he looked at her, Laerwen could clearly see the love passing between them.
“Aye,” she said. “How can we assist?”
“Let’s return to the palace first,” Andahar said. “I’ve brought horses.” He waved to the guards. “We can discuss the details while we dine tonight.”
The ride back to the palace was in relative silence. Relative for Laerwen. She listened with a keen ear while Andahar and Eldrin discussed the state of the realm. Eldrin had heard of the attack on the Hin’dar Rhule only too late. The Fomorians had come and gone before they could send anyone to help.
Such was the case with the Wood Elves.
“My sincerest condolences, Princess,” Eldrin said. “I heard of the death of the king and queen.”
“Aye, it’s been difficult.” And that pang of sorrow hit her in the middle of the chest again. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the idea her parents were dead.
“Where does that leave the Hin’dar Rhule?” he asked.
“It’s currently destroyed. There is nothing left of the palace except a burned out shell.”
“I’ve pledged the help of the Woodlands to see the Hin’dar Rhule is rebuilt to its former glory,” Andahar said.
“Then I pledge the same of the Skye Elves,” Talaiel said. “You have my word, Princess. I will send every available hand to your realm.”
“I thank you for that. It means more to me than I can express.”
And it did. Their generosity was more than she had ever expected. When she came to the Woodlands, it was to seek revenge for those who had sent the Dark Elf to destroy her land. Now she was starting to feel the beginnings of friendship and respect and mayhap something more with Andahar.
No, she would not allow herself to become attached to the prince. It was folly to believe there could ever be more than one kiss between them. It was also folly to expect Hiram to willingly break her betrothal with Randir. He would fiercely object. She knew the duty she faced. She must forget Andahar and that kiss.
They arrived back at the stables and relinquished their horses.
“The midday meal will be served in an hour,” Andahar said. “That should give you both time to refresh I should think.”
“More than enough time,” Talaiel answered. “Thank you.”
The two brothers took the lead ascending the winding tree staircase. The Lady of the Skye fell in step with Laerwen.
“If there is anything I can do for you, Princess, I hope you’ll let me know,” the lady said.
“I appreciate your offer, but I don’t know what you could do to help me.”
“Losing your kingdom and your family in one blow is more than difficult, your highness. I was quite saddened to hear of your loss and even more distressed we could not help you in time.”
“I did not know you had come to help.”
“When my people arrived, the realm was deserted. There was no one left. Only the dead.”
Laerwen’s heart stopped. She came to an abrupt halt. “There was no one left alive?”
“No, your highness.”
Her knees gave out and she dropped to the step, no longer able to stand. She fell back against the wall, her stomach clenching with the disbelief and horror of the truth. She had left many Fire Elves back in the realm when she came to the Woodlands. If the Skye Elves found no one alive... Her chest tightened as she made a valiant effort to force away the threatening tears.
Ahead of them, Eldrin and Andahar paused mid-stair. They each looked back, question on Eldrin’s face. Concern creased Andahar’. He stepped down to her, dropping to a knee and sliding an arm around her shoulders.
“Laerwen?”
“Oh, gods,” Talaeil breathed. Her fingers pressed against her lips. “You didn’t know, did you?”
She shook her head. Had the Fomorians returned and finished them off? They must have arrived shortly after her departure. In hindsight, leaving the Hin’dar Rhule was probably not the wisest decision but it was the only one she could make at the time.
“They’re all dead,” she whispered. “All of them. And it’s my fault. I should have insisted they come with us.”
“It’s not your fault. There must be a few survivors. Mayhap they were able to get away,” Andahar insisted. “I’ll send a search party.”
But she was already shaking her head. “No. It’s no use. There were only a few dozen left behind. They would not have been able to defend themselves. The attack would have come on as suddenly as before.”
“You don’t know that,” Eldrin said. “Andahar is right. Let us send men out to search. They could be trying to make their way here to you.”
She looked up into Andahar’s eyes, saw the determination there and knew she couldn’t say no. She nodded. “All right.”
“I will send a scout on a moon dragon,” Talaiel said. “That way we’ll know sooner rather than later.”
Laerwen nodded as the prince helped her to her feet, still holding onto her. But Laerwen shrugged away from his grasp. He tried to hide the hurt look but she saw it as he turned and headed back up the stairs. The Lady of the Skye did something Laerwen never expected—she hooked her arm in hers as they took the final steps and walked toward the palace.
“All is not lost, Princess.”
“I fear my people will never be able to recover from this,” she said.
“You must have hope.” She hugged her arm. “I should like to be a friend to you.”
“I should like that. Thank you.”
In a time like this, Laerwen needed all the friends she could gather. And Lady Talaiel would be not only a good friend, but a powerful ally.
“There you are, you impetuous woman.”
Lord Randir’s voice rang out across the span of rope bridges. He charged toward them, a stormy look upon his face. Laerwen flinched. A confrontation with him was the last thing she wanted yet she knew it was inevitable.