Dark Breaks the Dawn (Untitled Duology #1)

Please help me. Help me protect our people. Help me succeed.

Evelayn knelt there silently for a long time, letting the sunshine press her in its golden embrace, but when the tears felt perilously close to rising to the surface, she finally stood and turned away, back toward the forest, her sentries, and the castle.

She still had no answers, but she felt a little bit better. At the very least, seeing the still-blackened stones had been a reminder that she was capable of calling down the sun.

Evelayn slowly meandered toward the castle, in no hurry to rush back to the concerns and scrutiny of her court. Perhaps she could quickly go visit the swans. She hadn’t been to her lake since the night of her birthday, nor had she tried to shift, with all else that she’d had to deal with.

Evelayn changed course, heading to the lake, and was nearly there when she heard someone approaching from behind. Nerves ever on edge, she whirled, only to see Ceren walking toward her.

“Thank the Light, it’s you.”

“Who did you expect?” Ceren laughed as she got closer. “Certainly not Tanvir, based on the petrified look on your face. Pretty sure that’s not the response he would elicit.”

“I was not petrified. And regardless, I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Evelayn hedged, hurrying toward her swans and away from Ceren’s knowing grin.

“I’m not sure I do either, since I haven’t had a chance to ask you what happened in the forest this morning with a certain handsome lord who is so besotted with you, he continues to be willing to torture himself by chasing you at all hours of the day and night.”

“Nothing happened.” Evelayn sat down heavily on her log, not even sure why she was trying to hide the kiss from Ceren. Perhaps because it was still so new and she hadn’t even had time to process it herself yet?

“You know I can scent your guilt, right? Tell me the truth.” Ceren sat down next to her.

“I liked it better when we were younglings. At least then you couldn’t smell when I lied to you.”

“Is lying to me such a common problem?”

Evelayn laughed in spite of herself. “No. But it’s rather inconvenient currently.”

They were quiet for a moment and then Ceren said, “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. I honestly didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t! It’s not that.” Evelayn shifted on the log, watching the flock of swans glide through the center of the lake, surprisingly not frightened of all the noise they were making. She kept her eyes on the birds as she admitted, “He kissed me.”

Ceren squealed and the swans shuffled their wings nervously. “I knew it had to be something good! I’ve never seen you glowing like that before.”

“Glowing like what? When?” Evelayn finally turned to Ceren.

“I saw you two running back to the castle. You were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even notice me and Quinlen in the gardens. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Evelayn groaned. “Well, that’s lovely. So everyone knows?”

“Goodness no. I’m the only one who knows you well enough to have noticed exactly how happy you were. I’m sure everyone else thought it was merely from getting out to run again,” Ceren assured her. “Even Quinlen only commented that you seemed to be in better spirits.”

“Which brings up the question—why were you in the gardens with Quinlen?” Evelayn deflected the focus of the conversation.

“Oh, we just walk together in the mornings sometimes. Nothing exciting like you.”

“But you do care for him. I can tell.” Evelayn pressed Ceren with a smile.

Ceren shrugged but she couldn’t keep from smiling, too. “Well, yes. I do. But I’m not sure if he’s actually interested or only looking for easy companionship. Or perhaps he thinks I’m a way to you.”

“I guarantee that’s not it at all. He’s never even tried to speak to me, other than brief formalities. He’s interested in you. And I promise to watch for you next time, so I can see for myself.”

“I appreciate that,” Ceren reached out and patted Evelayn’s hand, “but you’re not getting out of telling me exactly what happened this morning. You don’t have to be the queen when you’re with me, you know. You can just be a young Draíolon who’s falling in love and needs to talk to her closest friend about it.”

“Who said anything about love? I never said that,” Evelayn protested. But of course as soon as Ceren brought it up, it was all she could think about. Was that what she felt for Tanvir?

“I know you, Ev. You won’t even let a male Draíolon kiss your hand unless you truly care for him, let alone anywhere on your face.”

Evelayn was quiet. It was true, she guarded herself against everyone, especially any male who showed interest in her. But with Tanvir, it was different. She wanted him to touch her, she wanted to be close to him. She wanted to talk to him, and see him, and kiss him. But she didn’t dare call it love—not yet. Maybe not ever. Love meant forever. It meant Binding herself to someone—if she was lucky and if he loved her back. Love was what her parents had shared.

Ceren watched her, waiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

“I’m not really sure why I feel differently with him … but I do.” Evelayn couldn’t look at her friend as she haltingly began to tell her some of what had happened that morning. Not even Ceren needed to know every detail.

She’d just reached the point when they kissed the second time, when her sharp hearing caught the soft footfalls of someone hurrying toward them.

“Your Majesty.” A messenger burst through the trees just as Evelayn stood and turned to face whoever was coming. “A note arrived for you. At the castle.”

Evelayn’s pulse skipped a beat.

“General Kelwyn told me to fetch you, that it was urgent.”

Evelayn glanced apologetically at Ceren, who still sat on the log.

“Go,” Ceren said with a rueful smile. “Now you must return to being the queen.”

“We’ll talk more later?” Evelayn asked and Ceren nodded.

She could only think of one message that would be so urgent—it had to be from Caedmon.





LORCAN’S MOTHER HAD JUST LEFT THE ROOM A COUPLE of minutes earlier when there was another knock. The door opened, without waiting for his approval, to reveal Lothar in her stead.

Lorcan resumed polishing the sword he’d been working on, not acknowledging his brother. They hadn’t spoken much since their father’s plan had proven successful and he’d killed Queen Ilaria.

Well, the first part of his plan, rather. Nothing had gone right after that, and they’d all suffered the brunt of the king’s wrath since.

Sara B. Larson's books