Dragon's Blood (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy #2)

“Please, Prince Ryolas, there is no need to stand on my account,” Dareena said, holding up her hands. “I’m sure after spending all that time chained up, your body needs a bit more rest.” She eyed his wrists, which were an angry red color—from what she understood, he’d been shackled for quite some time, which was cruel for an elf.

“Very well,” Ryolas relented, allowing Basilla to help him back to bed. “How is Prince Alistair faring? Basilla told me all about that nasty business with his arm.” His eyes darkened with anger. “Throwing Arolas into the dungeon is far too paltry a punishment. He should have something chopped off in return.”

Dareena cocked her head. “Your brother seems quite different from the two of you,” she said. “Why is that?”

“He was the only child of our father’s first wife,” Basilla explained, “so he is really our half-brother. The king has been unlucky with his wives—Arolas’s mother died in childbirth, and ours died soon after she brought me into the world.”

“I’m sorry,” Dareena said, feeling a pang of pity as sadness crossed the princess’s face. “I too have lost my parents, and I was old enough to remember them when they were gone. So I know your pain.”

Basilla put an arm around her, a show of solidarity and sisterhood that warmed Dareena’s heart.

“Has Father come to see you yet?” Basilla asked her brother.

Ryolas shook his head. “I sent word to him asking for an audience, but he hasn’t responded yet,” he said. “I imagine he is not ready to face me yet, even knowing that the elven goddess still holds me in her favor.” His lips twitched. “I must say, Basilla, I am surprised to hear that. I would have thought she would be angry with me for consorting with a dragon princess.”

“Perhaps Shalia is just as eager for this terrible feud to be over as we are,” Basilla suggested. “She was very displeased with Arolas’s actions, and I sensed she was not very happy about Count Kianor’s presence either.” A troubled look crossed Basilla’s face. “Dareena thinks that the warlocks have been pitting us against the dragons, and vice versa, and I am inclined to believe it.”

Ryolas nodded. “I have had my suspicions about that as well,” he said. “It was why I arranged to meet with the dragon brothers. I wanted to plant the idea in their minds and force them to dig deeper into the matter of their mother’s death. Since we did not kill her, and the dragons would not have done such a thing themselves, the warlocks are the logical suspect. I will speak to Father about this, once I manage to convince him I am not the enemy.”

Basilla checked the clock on the wall. “I cannot stay much longer,” she said, taking Ryolas’s hand, “but please, Ryo, be careful. Sleep with a knife under your pillow. Maybe even bring one of the dogs in to watch over you. Arolas may not be out of prison yet, but he is not powerless. He has supporters and friends who are more than happy to further his agenda.”

“Believe me, sister,” Ryolas said grimly, “now that I am free, the last thing I intend is to end up under Arolas’s thumb again. I will take the necessary precautions.”

“Good.”

They stayed a few minutes longer before bidding Ryolas goodbye. Ryolas told Dareena to let Alistair know he’d asked after him—apparently, the two of them had bonded a bit while stuck in the oubliette together. Dareena wondered if perhaps Lucyan had been premature in his decision that the younger elven prince was out of danger. She prayed to the gods, dragon and otherwise, that Ryolas would come out of this on top, and that Arolas would get what he deserved. But somehow, in her heart, she had a feeling that the gods had other plans she would not like once they came to pass.





28





Later that night, as Alistair curled his body around Dareena and inhaled her sweet scent, he wished he could leave the confines of his room. Try as he might, he could not sleep—his mind was too busy chewing on questions, and after spending so much time in bed, his body was not tired. Lucyan’s amulet had really done the trick—he’d felt good as new when he’d given it back, and as Dareena had spent most of her time cuddling with him, he barely felt the effects of the anti-dragon spell.

He should be doing something useful. Figuring out a way to escape, not lying about as if he were on holiday. For fuck’s sake, he was trapped in enemy territory, and his brother was holed up in an inn waiting for them so they could go home and fix their kingdom!

Alistair lifted his right arm to wrap it around Dareena’s waist, then cursed when he remembered it was no longer there. Gritting his teeth, he looked down at the remaining limb—he had to give it to Arolas, the elf had damn fine swordsmanship. The cut was clean, sliced off neatly at the elbow joint. He could almost admire it if it hadn’t been his arm.

He hoped Lucyan was right, that he would be able to heal this fully once he shifted for the first time. Otherwise, Alistair would likely have to give up swordsmanship.

“Your thoughts are so loud I can hear them in my sleep,” Dareena murmured, turning in his embrace.

Her sleepy gaze searched his face, and Alistair couldn’t help smiling at her. Whatever his circumstances, he was damn lucky to have her by his side.

“I’m sorry,” Alistair murmured. He cupped the side of her face, stroking her soft cheek with his thumb. She was his to love, his to protect…but so far, he had not done a very good job on either account. “I wish I could relax, but I’ve been idle too long. If there is a way to escape this place, we should do it now while I still have my strength.”

“Agreed,” Dareena said. “But how?”

“I’ve been wondering if Princess Basilla might be willing to help us,” Alistair said. “She seems sympathetic, and quite fond of you. If she could at least get us some disguises, perhaps some servants’ clothing, we might be able to sneak out of here.”

Dareena shook her head. “I won’t put her in that position,” she said, “and we don’t have to. I took the liberty of filching some items from the laundry room.”

“Really?” Alistair grinned at the devilish sparkle in Dareena’s eyes. “And when were you going to tell me about that?”

“When the time came for us to make our great escape, of course.” She gave him a teasing smile. “With me as the brains and you as the brawn, we might just be able to make this work.”

“Do you think you can do something about the guard outside?” Alistair asked. “I could take care of him with my brawn, but that might draw attention to us.”

“I do believe I can.”

“Wait a minute,” Alistair protested as Dareena rose from the bed. “You’re going to do it now? We’re not even dressed.”

“Something we’re going to remedy right now.” Dareena donned her dressing robe. “Go into my room and search the trunk. You’ll find the clothing I stashed away.”

Bemused, Alistair did as she asked, using the adjoining door. While he rummaged through the trunk, he heard Dareena open the door and call to the guard at the end of the hall.

“Excuse me, sir? Can you please fetch some water? Alistair’s fever is going back up.”