Jeondar nodded.
“He knows I can’t heal brewing unrest, right?” I joked in hopes of drawing out even the smallest bit of information about my involvement in this situation.
He smirked and raised an eyebrow, understanding full well what I was trying to do. “Let’s make camp, Ms. Sunder. I think we could all use some food and good rest tonight.” He gave me an accusatory glare.
“You can’t blame me for trying, Jeondar.”
“I don’t. In fact, it gives me hope.”
I opened my mouth to ask what in the world he meant by that, but he was already urging his horse forward, heading to a cozy-looking clearing in between two gentle hills.
In no time, there was a fire going, and the tent from which I’d escaped last night was erected. We had a dinner of mixed nuts, dried fruit, and some sort of bird Cylea fell from the sky with her arrows. Delicious wine accompanied the food, and I drank my share until Silver took away the skin that held it and declared that I’d had enough.
Same as last night, Kalyll and Arabis were nowhere to be found.
“Where did the prince and Arabis go?” I asked Cylea this time, hoping she might be more forthcoming than Jeondar.
“That’stheirbusiness, don’t you think?” she responded in a tone that insinuated the two were rolling in the hay under the stars.
It wasn’t unlikely. They were two adults of mating age—as the Fae called it—even if they were distant cousins.Ew.
“I heard you and Silver talking about… a ball?” I tried a different tactic.
At this, Cylea’s face lit up. “Yes. It’s in ten days, at the summer palace. It’s a grand celebration. There’s food, drink, dancing, delicious gossip.” Her husky voice grew a little high-pitched with excitement.
She definitely seemed like a girly-girl. She liked parties, shopping, gossip—things that didn’t seem to go with all the hunting and horseback riding. I shook my head, chiding myself. It was silly to try to apply stereotypes to anyone, especially stereotypes from my realm.
“But tell her what you’re really excited about,” Silver teased as he added another log to the fire.
“Lyanner Phiran will be there.” She fluttered her eyelashes several times.
I frowned, wondering if I was supposed to know who this Lyanner was. Was he some famous Fae whose name was known in my realm? There were a few that were sort of celebrities. Of course, most people knew of Prince Kalyll Adanorin. They also knew of his parents and of the Unseelie King. There were portraits of them in museums and online. There were also a few Fae who were Hollywood actors and actresses, and some legendary few whose legends had crossed the veil between realms due to their accomplishments. But as I searched my memory, I couldn’t recall anyone named Lyanner Phiran.
“I don’t think she knows who he is,” Silver pointed out.
“He’s only the best dragon trainer in the realm,” she informed me. “They call him the Drakeansoul.”
I swallowed. Dragons? Like the decayana and that wolf, they were a thing? A thing I didn’t wish to encounter. I’d had enough of Fae creatures for a lifetime.
“He must be something else,” I said unenthusiastically.
“I’ve always wanted a dragon,” Cylea clapped. “And he’s the one who can get it for me. Besides, he’s extremely interesting, not to mention handsome.”
“He looks like a goat,” Kryn put in. His nose had been swollen just a moment ago, but with his fast-healing body, there was but a small red lump left on top of it.
Cylea pushed her blue hair behind her shoulder. “Of course, you would say that. You’ve always been jealous of him.”
“Jealous? Of Lyanner Drakeantroll? Don’t make me laugh.” He waved a hand in the air as if to dispel a bad smell. “He’s an overreaching nobody.”
“As opposed to an underachievingsomebody.” She pronounced the last word as if she meant the exact opposite. “He made a name for himself through his skill, while others unmade theirs through sheer uselessness.”
Kryn’s green eyes narrowed and a muscle jumped in his jaw. It seemed Cylea had struck a chord. He brooded for a moment, and then seemed prepared to unleash a venomous retort, but in the end, he held back, remaining broody for the rest of the night. He didn’t seem to be having a good day, but he brought it on himself with his arrogance. I couldn’t say I felt sorry for him.
After a while, Jeondar escorted me into the tent. This time he carried two lengths of rope, which he held up as he pointedly stared at my wrists.
“Seriously?” I protested.
He nodded.