Brezen

Claire opened her eyes, blinking into the darkness. Her ears pricked at the sound of hushed voices, probably what had awoken her. A faint glow came from beyond the canvas separation wall. She listened, unable to hear what was being said.

In the cot beside hers, Tamara gave a gentle snore.

She adjusted her blankets and flopped over, trying to find a comfortable position. Her shoulders ached. What she would give for her feathered bed back in the capital right now! She flopped again and sighed. It was no use—nothing was comfortable.

She sat up, pulling away her blankets. Tamara gave another gentle snore but carried on sleeping. The ground was cold beneath her bare feet. She moved silently through their small shared space and slipped past the canvas wall.

Only a few candles lit the main room of the tent. At the table, Talon and Bedelth sat across from each other, speaking in hushed voices. They fell silent, spotting her.

She froze.

"Good evening, Lady Claire." Bedelth darted to his feet.

"I—" Her gaze landed on a water pitcher on the table. "Just getting some water. Please don't stand on my account, Bedelth." She grabbed an overturned cup from the stack and began pouring.

"No matter. I needed fresh air anyway," Bedelth said, slipping away. She was about to protest but the tent's flaps fell back into place, leaving her very much alone with Talon. She replaced the pitcher and took a sip.

"Come, sit." Talon pulled out the chair beside him.

"I...I was just—"

"—going to drink that standing there awkwardly?"

"Right."

After a long pause, she sat down beside him, very aware that she was wearing nothing more than a spare nightgown. She made a show of drinking her water before setting the empty cup on the table.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Something like that. You?"

He hesitated. "Something like that..."

A silence stretched out between them, leaving her overly mindful of his close proximity, of his eyes on her. She gazed at her cup as if it might turn into a teapot, trying to think of something to say. Each time she opened her mouth, the words didn't seem right.

When she turned to him, she caught him looking at her. Candlelight flickered over his face, throwing shadows and highlights across his scars. Her chest heaved at the sight. It wasn't pity necessarily. Or maybe it was? But he wouldn't want that, her pity. She did feel sorry for him, especially after seeing how handsome he had once been, after knowing all that he had done for his kingdom, after seeing how much he cared about Dragonwall.

"You're frowning at me. If my presence bothers you, I can go."

"No!" She jolted forward. "I mean...It's not that."

"But it is something?" She blinked, unsure if she should say anything. "Will you tell me?"

"I..." She shifted to better face him. "It just bothers me, I suppose. The others."

"I am not sure I follow."

"The others from earlier. How they treated you. They couldn't bear to look at you. They avoided you even though they stood in the same tent as you. Even though you're their king. It's...rude. Disrespectful, even. It made me..."

"Made you what?" He didn't so much as blink.

She sighed. "It made me frustrated...and angry."

"Oh." Something in his face changed, softening the stark lines. "I had not realized that would upset you. My scars are my own curse to bear, not yours."

"Talon..." She scowled. "How can you...Why would you see it like that? They're scars—nothing more. Certainly not a burden or even a curse. It's not like you have horns growing out of your forehead, or a third eyeball. You're not a monster." She swallowed. "Don't they see that? Don't they understand everything you've done for them? The sacrifices you've made?"

He tilted his head, perhaps trying to better understand her.

"Reyr told me about how you got them, about your parents and the Kalds and..."

He straightened. "I don't need your pity, Claire. I don't want it."

"No! I—that wasn't my intent. I'm angry for you, that's all."

"I...see," he said at last, before falling quiet for longer than she liked. It almost left her squirming. She hadn't intended to have this kind of a conversation. Hadn't intended to make either of them this uncomfortable.

"Look, Talon, I won't apologize for wanting or even expecting others to respect you."

"Nor would I ask it of you." He leaned back in his chair. "The truth is, I am used to it, after hundreds of years of the same. One grows used to such things." He waved it away like a passing thought.

"So that's it, then?" Her eyes narrowed, pinning him. "You've given up and accepted it?"

Maybe he failed to see what she did. That he deserved so much more. He deserved...everything. But this thought made her frown. Surprised her, even. After all, why did she care?

"Claire, my people regard me how they choose to regard me because of the things I have done, the way I have acted and behaved throughout my lifetime. I might be selfless, but it often doesn't show." He gave her a knowing look. "Would you deny that I have a terrible temper?"

"Gods, no!" she cried. Her hand shot to cover her mouth, eyes wide. "I mean..."

"I know what you mean," he drawled. "You know all about my moods...perhaps better than most. Besides, those who can bear to look at me without flinching, they are the ones I care about. Like my Shields. Like you. All the others?" He shrugged. "That's their problem, isn't it?"

A gentle huff escaped her lips. "I suppose you're right. I didn't think of it that way."

He nodded. "The greatest prison I can build for myself is one of fear over what others think. I could spend my entire life worrying about such matters. Instead, I choose not to."

"I..." She chewed the inside of her cheek. His words took a moment to sink in. He was right. And what he said resonated with her in a way she hadn't expected.

She reached for his hand and stopped short, quickly pulling away. He glanced down at the action—at the retraction of her hand. Red-hot heat filled her face. "That's very wise of you," she said, perhaps too quickly, filling the awkward moment. "But then again, you are a king. As long as you have the respect of those you care about, the rest doesn't matter."

"And what of you? Have I earned your respect?"

"You have. You should already know that."

He leaned towards her, propping his elbow on the arm of his chair, putting his face less than a foot from hers. Fire crawled beneath her skin. Or was it just hot in the tent?

"You know," he said, his words slow and deliberate. "Even before I had your respect, you never balked at my appearance."

"What...do you mean?" Her stomach fluttered at their proximity. This close, she could make out gold flecks in his silver eyes. Why hadn't she noticed them before?

"Don't you remember? That day in my court? When you faced me? I wanted you to cower away from me the way everyone usually does. I wanted you to fear me. But you did not. You stood and faced me. In fact, I do not think I will ever forget the sight of you. Your pride. Your strength. It intimidated me. Still does, on occasion."

"I was intimidated by you too, you know." She cleared her throat, forcing her voice to sound steady. "Actually, I was terrified. I couldn't have done it without Cyrus. But...I was also angry. Gods! I was so angry." A laugh erupted from her chest. "You were just so damn frustrating! You wouldn't listen to a word I said. Or didn't care. I wasn't sure which. I wanted to smack some sense into you right there in front of everyone, but of course, you don't go and smack a king in his own throne room."

"Smack some sense into me?" He thew his head back and roared, bellowing loud enough to wake everyone in the neighboring tents. His body shook with laughter.

Her eyes widened. She watched him laugh, tracing the lines of his exposed throat and chin, the way his hair fell back. The gesture was so...carefree. As if nothing in the world were wrong. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth; she couldn't help it.

"Yes," he said at last, dropping his head to look at her. "I suppose I would have deserved that. I suppose I have deserved everything you've thrown my way, and then some. Every glower. Every glare." He huffed and his expression turned serious again. "I should have seen it. Even then, I should have seen it when it was right in front of me." He reached out and grabbed her hand, perhaps already forgetting that she'd been unable to do the same.

She hid her surprise, afraid to so much as move. The gesture left her paralyzed.

"I've been so blind, Claire. So gods damned blind. There's...there is something I need to tell—"

The tent flap opened. "Gods, Talon, laugh loud enough and wake up the whole damn camp, why don't—" Koldis waltzed in and froze. His eyes widened as he spotted them sitting together, shoulders practically touching.

She ripped her hand from Talon's, but it was too late. Her cheeks burned with nervous embarrassment. The spell was broken. Koldis swore and turned on his heel, disappearing out of the tent without another word.

Whatever had just happened, or was about to happen, slipped through the cracks like water on a slat floor. It was followed by a long, awkward silence. "I...should get some sleep," she mumbled.

"Of course." Talon jerked his chair back and stood, rushing to pull hers out as well. Things had gone from intimate to awkward in a matter of seconds. She wanted to run far, far away. She shouldn't have allowed him to take her hand. What was she thinking? Why was this happening?

"Uhm...You should try to get some sleep too," she added. What else was she supposed to say? "Good night, Talon." She gave him a sloppy curtsy and rushed away, throwing herself behind the fabric barrier and beneath her blankets. There she stared at the canvas ceiling.

She missed the stars. At least the twinkle of them helped when she couldn't sleep. Her mind ticked, ticked, ticked away. So many questions. So few answers.

The king she had met in the throne room seemed so very different to the one here in Brezen. Was he developing feelings for her? She burrowed deeper into her pillow, frowning. No. That was impossible. Impossible given what she knew about him. But his actions...they screamed it.

The taste of blood filled her mouth. "Damn it," she muttered. She had chewed on her lower lip enough to break the skin. Gods! What a frustrating man—Drengr—king. Whatever the hell he was.

Perhaps he didn't have those kinds of feelings for her. But at the very least, he cared for her. Which was still surprising. Was it merely a form of respect? Perhaps because he was learning to trust her? He had chosen her over his Shields, to walk him back to camp earlier that night.

Or was it last night? Had midnight come and gone? She wasn't even sure anymore.

She recounted their conversation just minutes ago. He'd wanted to tell her something. But what? Stupid Koldis! Why had he chosen the worst possible moment to interrupt them?

Perhaps it was for the best. Talon had been so close to her—too close. But she had liked that, hadn't she? She had liked his hand on hers, warm and calming in a way that surprised her.

Would he have kissed her? No! She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. No kissing. Absolutely not. He was Dragonwall's king—a Drengr. And she was merely human. But no. She wasn't, was she? Not anymore. Not since discovering her magic. Still, nothing good could come of it and she dared not get her feelings tangled up with a male who could never love her back in that way. And not just any male, a king.

But...what had he been about to say?! Ugh! Now the question would eat at her in a most annoying way.

Maybe he was going to admit his feelings for her. It would make sense, given how he had behaved since reaching Brezen. But that was silly! A male like Talon wouldn't waste time on feelings. She was nothing but his ward. A responsibility to bear.

It wasn't as if they were mates.

Her breathing stalled.

...Were they?

No. Definitely not. She would know. Of course she would know. Besides, Talon had failed to find his mate. Talon had no mate. Cyrus established that long ago, when they'd first met.

Besides, the odds of someone from her world—her, specifically—being destined for him...She stifled a snort, muffling her crazed laugh. Mates! Yeah...right.

But the damage was done. The thought burrowed deep into her belly. Because if she wasn't his mate, what if the day came when he did find the one who was? It wasn't impossible, surely. Sometimes on rare occasions, a Drengr found a soul mate hundreds of years after giving up.

Her heart sped up, pounding, catapulting.

Oh, gods! What would happen if that happened? What then? What type of person would it be? Someone impressive, no doubt, to be such a match for Dragonwall's king. Talon deserved nothing less.

The thought left her guts squirming. She liked the way things were now. The last thing she wanted was for some stranger to enter the picture. It would upset the balance they had worked so hard for.

She finally felt as if her place in the world was less fuzzy around the edges. More defined. She knew what she was meant to do. She had to defeat Kane. And she needed Dragonwall's king as an ally. If he got a mate, he'd probably forget all about her. He'd get caught up in love, and emotions, and all that mushy-gushy stuff that likely came along with it.

Oh, gods!

Was she jealous of the idea? She groaned, flopping over onto her other side. She was! She was absolutely jealous! The idea of losing Talon's attention upset her, and getting upset over something like that made her even more upset, sending her into a loop of ridiculousness. "Stop!" she muttered under her breath, cursing her feelings. "Just...stop."

She shoved her face into the pillow. She'd never get any sleep at this rate. So she did her best to push everything from her mind, to embrace the darkness of her eyelids. At long last, sleep finally claimed her.

The following morning, those staying in the command tent gathered for breakfast. Bacon, hardboiled eggs, oatmeal, sliced apples, and warm bread was spread out before them. With the king's appearance, the manor house sent over their finest options. She was thankful for it.

Aside from the constant interruptions as runners delivered messages, the event was rather mundane. Cutlery clattered. Conversations were kept to a hush as messages were read and answered, keeping Talon and his Shields mostly occupied. Although, that didn't stop Talon's wandering eyes.

She found his gaze over the sheet of whatever parchment he held. Her suspicions were growing. Especially when their eyes locked and he jerked back to reading the message.

No...it couldn't be...could it? Her face heated. She looked down at her plate. Three times so far in a single breakfast. Three times he'd found her eyes!

At least her appetite had finally returned. And fortunately Talon's weirdness didn't disturb that. She was hungrier than she'd been since his departure to the forest. It felt like an age ago, but it had only been a few weeks. Knots started unraveling at last—knots she hadn't realized she carried. Moreover, she no longer felt stretched and strained as she had before.

"Claire? Did you hear me?"

She jerked, lifting her eyes to Tamara. "Oh, sorry...I was just thinking."

"No apologies necessary. I only asked if you would join me in a walk this morning?"

Talon lowered the parchment in his hand. "I think it is an excellent idea, Lady Tamara. Why don't the two of you get some fresh air? And remember what I said, Lady Claire, about being a face for our people?"

Our people. Not my people. Or the people.

"I...absolutely, Your Majesty." She searched his expression for something, anything, that might help answer her questions. There was nothing, just his steady gaze on her.

She and Tamara walked the camp arm in arm as they had done the day before, trailed by the same guards. It was a good opportunity to tell Tamara everything that had happened when she met Talon in the grove. She left out their strange midnight encounter, though. That felt too private.

"Gods above!" Tamara was glued to every word. "He wasn't angry that you had broken your promise?"

"Obviously not. It surprised me too."

"And you are to have one walk, every night, for one hundred nights? That's hardly a price to pay. You do not think he has changed towards you, do you?"

"It would certainly seem so."

They squeezed their conversation in between greetings as they moved from tent to tent. Fires had been lit all about camp, with wooden spits for roasting and cooking as people gathered around each one. They were offered skewers of roasted meat, and boiled potatoes, and bread, and jerky, and ale, and all manner of breakfast items.

So many begged them to join in. After accepting the first few offerings, she politely declined all others for fear that her bodice would burst. She'd already had a full breakfast as it was.

She had decided to wear another gown, summoned up from the depths of Tamara's large trunk. It was a simple khaki brocade, similar to one she had back in the capital. She only wore it because she had agreed to be an example for Talon's people, and this seemed a good way to do it. She was a lady, and they would feel more comfortable with her if she stuffed herself into the box she was expected to fill.

But one thing was certain, the moment she left to return to the capital, she'd be back in traveling clothes.

Jovari and Koldis weren't set to leave for a few hours yet, but those hours passed quickly. When she had a chance, she excused herself from Tamara's company in search of them. They had already assembled with the escorts from Fort Kastali who had accompanied her on her journey. A wave of longing passed over her. She missed Kastali Dun. But more than that, she missed Desaree and Saffra.

Faedrol and Hannah offered eager waves and jogged over to say hello. "Are you flying back with us?" Hannah asked.

She nearly groaned. "I wish I could." And that was the absolute truth. Instead, she was stuck here with Talon and his...weird behavior.

Hannah pulled her into a hug. "Well, we will make sure the keep is ready for your return, my lady. You will only be a few days behind us anyway."

"Thank you. Have a safe trip, both of you. And keep an eye on the king's Shields for me. No mischief. No carting bandits away in nets." They chuckled at this and bid her farewell.

Faedrol transformed into a glittering bronze form and Hannah vaulted onto his back. Many other Drengr had already transformed as their Riders fastened travel packs to their harnesses. She moved from pair to pair speaking with each of them, thanking them for accompanying her to defeat the Vodar, and bidding them safe travels.

Jovari and Koldis were last. They stood in human form, waiting.

"Come to bid us a fond farewell?" Koldis smirked. "Admit it, you're going to miss us."

She stepped forward and threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him. He was surprised at first, but quickly wrapped his arms around her to return the gesture. Jovari was next, but better prepared for her sudden show of affection.

"Just so you know, I am going to miss you," she said at last. "I can't believe you're leaving me here with Talon! What if he loses his temper? Neither of you will be here to take the heat."

"Someone's got to do it," Jovari teased. "Besides, we're needed in the capital. And anyway, our king is a new man. Whatever happened to him in the forest has left him changed. I say for the better."

"I'm not the only one who noticed it?"

"Hardly. Maybe you can do some digging while you're with him. Find out why?" Koldis winked, as if he already knew the answer. "You can tell us what it is when you return."

"Aye, aye, captain." She gave him a salute. "Look, I wanted to apologize to you guys before you left. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you after...well, after what happened with the attack. I know it's not your fault. You just wanted to know that Reyr was okay. I did too."

Koldis cuffed her on the shoulder. "No hard feelings, eh? We won't hold it against you. It takes a lot more than a few temperamental words from an unruly female to offend us. Believe me. We've gotten plenty from King Talon over the years."

She laughed. "Yeah, makes sense."

Jovari stepped forward, reaching for her arm even though they'd already hugged. "Fare thee well, Lady Claire. May the wind be a steady current beneath your wings."

She grasped his forearm, smiling up at him. "And yours too, Jovari. We will trade stories when I return?"

"Aye, we shall indeed." He stepped aside. Koldis gave her much the same goodbye, then they moved away and transformed into their glittering green and blue forms.

She stepped back, watching them assemble into formation, filled with longing, wishing she could go with them. Koldis gave a mighty roar and leapt from the ground. The others followed. She followed their progress as they rose into the sky.

Once they were in flight, they all roared. Their farewell shook the heavens. Seconds later, the call was answered as cheers erupted from the camp behind her. When she looked over her shoulder, people stood outside of their tents, fists pumping in the air. She smiled. Dragonwall was really growing on her, and not just Dragonwall, but its king.

She stayed in the field, watching as her entourage shrank into specks on the horizon. Their journey had not been in vain. They had done some genuine good together, defeating the Vodar, bringing peace to the villagers in Celenore, and warning Fort Squall of the imminent attack. Even showing themselves at Brezen's camp to boost morale.

Yes, they had been quite successful as far as adventures went. The little specks on the horizon winked into nothing. She chewed on her bottom lip again. Their adventure might have been at an end, but she had the feeling hers was only just beginning. 

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