“Insolent fool,” Lyria muttered as the undercook walked away. Her eyes were narrowed in displeasure. “You should not allow her to talk to you like that, Dareena. It makes you look weak.”
“You will address me as ‘my lady,’” Dareena said, a little snippily, growing weary of Lyria’s insolence. “And given that I know exactly how you like to deal with people, and the affects you created by doing so, you’ll excuse me if I don’t take your advice.”
Lyria’s cheeks flamed red. “I think it is good for a ruler to be merciful,” Soldian said with an encouraging smile. “My grandmother always said that anger cannot flourish in the presence of kindness.”
“Your grandmother was a wise woman,” the cook said, and Dareena agreed. She’d only been with her ladies for a few days, but already, Soldian was proving to be her favorite. She seemed to know exactly what to do or say under any given circumstance, no matter what mood Dareena was in.
A metal pan hit the floor behind them with a loud bang, startling Dareena.
“Nari!” the cook cried, rushing over. Dareena twisted around to see the undercook collapse to her knees with a groan, clutching her stomach. “What’s wrong?” the cook asked, placing her hand on her shoulder.
“S-stomach cramps,” she managed through gritted teeth, her face pale. “I-I think it was…the juice…”
“Out of my way,” Dareena ordered, pushing the head cook aside. She raced over to the woman and turned her onto her back. “Call a healer!” she ordered Soldian and Rantissa as she placed her hands on the undercook’s convulsing abdomen. Sucking in a breath, she drew magic from the air and pushed it into the woman, trying to ease her pain. Lyria appeared at her side instantly, using her superior strength to hold the woman’s thrashing legs down, while the cook held down her shoulders. Long seconds passed as Dareena pushed more magic into her, and though the tremors eased, they did not go away completely.
Footsteps sounded outside the hall, and the kitchen door crashed open. “What is happening?” Drystan demanded, and Dareena looked up to see him enter right behind the healer and Soldian, along with several guards.
“Someone tried to poison her,” Rantissa said, her voice trembling as she stared down at the undercook. She and Soldian both looked pale and shaken. “Dareena said she smelled something strange in her juice, and the undercook drank it to try and prove her wrong.”
“I told you that woman was a fool,” Lyria growled.
“Move aside,” the healer ordered, clearing a space around the woman. “Where is the mug she drank from?” she asked as she knelt beside Nari.
“Here.” The cook quickly fetched it from where it sat on the counter and handed it to her.
The healer sniffed, then scowled. “This is tansica,” she snapped. “An herb commonly prescribed to women who wish to terminate their pregnancies. In a woman who is not pregnant, it induces strong convulsions and abdominal pain, but in someone like Dareena…” She looked up at Dareena, her eyes glittering with anger. “This would have killed your unborn child.”
Drystan swore loudly. “Who is responsible for this?” he demanded, whirling on the cook. “Was it one of your staff?”
“N-never!” the cook stammered, her eyes wide with fear. “Nari would never do such a thing!”
“Drystan.” Dareena put a hand on his arm, noting he was coming perilously close to losing his temper. “Nari would not drink the juice if she was the one who poisoned it. Our first priority is to help her, and then we can worry about who is responsible.”
“Very well,” Drystan said through clenched teeth. “But you will not be staying here for one more moment.”
Dareena swallowed back a protest as Drystan scooped her up in his arms and carried her from the room. He barked orders to the guards to help the healer move Nari to a better location, then swiftly walked back to their quarters. Given the way his jaw clenched and his temple pulsed, Dareena decided not to point out that she was perfectly capable of walking on her own. She knew Drystan would not hurt her, but it was clear he needed to feel in control right now, and if carrying her was his way of doing that, then so be it.
“Drystan,” she said once he’d kicked the door of their suite shut behind him. She cupped his face gently, coaxing him to look down at her. “I’m all right.”
“I know, but I am not.” He sat down heavily on the couch, then buried his face in her neck and cradled her. Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him as he took in slow, deep breaths to calm himself. She knew her touch and scent soothed him, and he had the same effect on her. Tension she didn’t realize she held bled out of her as she rubbed her cheek against his, enjoying the scratch of his whiskers against her skin.
They stayed like that for a long while before Drystan finally lifted his head. The pain in his eyes made her heart ache. “I don’t know what I would have done if it had been you who drank the juice instead of the undercook,” he said. “I fear I might have burned down the entire castle in my rage.” He shook his head, his features twisted in an expression of disgust. “Lately, it seems that I can only react with anger. I fear I may be treading along the same path as my father.”
“You could never become Dragomir,” Dareena said, cupping his face with both of her hands. She traced the high ridge of his cheekbone with her thumb. “Your father was paranoid and ruled by greed. You are merely angry for having to pick up the pieces your father left behind, and you are also a dragon. Dragons are naturally hot-tempered.”
Drystan ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Then why is it that Lucyan and Alistair do not suffer from the same issue?” he asked. “Earlier today, when I was in the throne room, Alistair did a far better job of keeping a cool head. How am I to rule my subjects fairly if I lose my temper so easily?”
“Lucyan and Alistair do not lose their temper because they do not take this situation as personally as you do,” Dareena said, smiling up at Drystan. “As Lucyan loves to point out, you are the dutiful one, and for some reason, you believe deep down inside that you are personally responsible for what has happened. Every time something goes wrong, you take it as a personal affront.” She lifted her head a little and kissed him softly. “And while that may not be correct, your sense of honor and duty are two of the things I love most about you.”
Drystan’s anger finally eased, giving way to a smile. “And what are the other things you love about me?” he asked, nuzzling his nose against hers.
“I can think of at least one right now,” Dareena said slyly. She slipped a hand beneath her to palm Drystan’s cock through his trousers. Drystan groaned a little as she found it—he was already growing hard before she’d even touched him.
“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked as she shifted, straddling him while she deftly unbuttoned his trousers.
“Yes.” His cock sprang into her waiting hand, and she closed her fingers around it. “Is it working?”