I heard what he wasn’t saying, too. Out there wasn’t like in here. Well, we’d see about that.
The guards stopped in front of a set of gold-plated doors and drew them back, gesturing us through. Considering the grandeur of the palace, I’d expected to be led to a ballroom, something similar to Irdelron’s throne room with long tables overflowing with food. The room we entered was plain in comparison to our chambers. The walls were plain without the adornment of gems we’d seen everywhere else. A heavy stone table sat in the middle of the room with gilded, high-backed chairs set around it. A diamond chandelier hung above, but only a few of the candles were lit, casting the room in shadows. In the middle of the table was a small arrangement of food. Nothing like Irdelron’s groaning food benches.
At the head of the table sat an emaciated man, draped in finery. As we neared, I noticed the robes he wore were threadbare and ill-fitting. If those were his robes, they’d been made for him a long time ago.
Dyter took the lead, and I shuffled behind, trying to reconcile the thin king with the fat, crass man I’d created in my head.
“Greetings, King Zakai,” Dyter said. “Thank you for granting us an audience.”
The king used the table to stand and paused for a long moment before moving forward to meet Dyter. Zakai extended his hand. “I am pleased to have you here,” he said. “I’m eager to hear of Verald’s new king and to discuss how we may improve the bonds between our kingdoms.”
Straightforward. Polite. Open mannered. I narrowed my eyes, clinging to my expectations of his character. He let his people eat each other, I reminded myself.
He turned to me and, with a slight bow, said, “You must be Ryn the Most Powerful Drae.”
“I am,” I answered, dipping my head at him, ignoring Dyter’s eye roll. I wasn’t curtseying to rulers anymore. The sheer fact I’d entered this place was a miracle and one I hadn’t even thought about in my desperation to find shelter before the emperor found us.
“It is an honor to meet you, Ryn, one of the last free Drae. Please,” the king said, pointing at the chairs behind him. “Take a seat so we may talk further. You must be hungry.”
I swept my gaze down his frail frame. Dyter said the king was in his forties, but he looked much older, like the starving people in the Penny Wheel of Verald. There was no way we were as hungry as he was. Unease crawled through me at the disparity of my expectations and the reality before me.
I sat on the king’s left, Dyter on his right, and servers rested plates before us and removed the gilded domes covering the platters. The aromas of roasted meat and rosemary, rich gravy, potatoes with thyme, and baked apples with cinnamon assailed me, and all thought fled my mind but one.
“What kind of meat is that?” I asked. There was no way I was going to eat another person, no matter how good it smelled.
The king glanced at one of the servers who answered, “It’s roasted pheasant.”
The bird was in an arrangement of herb-roasted vegetables. My mouth watered in anticipation as Dyter and I loaded up our plates.
I cut into a potato, popped it in my mouth, and vowed I would never begrudge a potato again. As I chewed, I glanced at the king and found him watching me. His eyes were a rich blue . . . in fact, his eyes were the color of my scales, lapis lazuli.
More confusion twisted my insides, and my gaze fell to his empty plate.
“You’re not eating?” I asked.
He gave a small smile and a casual wave of his hand. “I’m not hungry just at the moment.”
Uh-huh, and I was the queen of walking potatoes. I shrugged, choosing to take him at face value for now, and placed some of the greasy bird meat in my mouth. I withheld a moan. Just.
“I hear Verald is prospering as never before under Caltevyn’s rule,” the king said. “It’s been what? Just two weeks since his ascension to the throne, yes?”
I heard a rumbling sound and looked to the source . . . the Gemond king’s stomach.
Dyter swallowed a huge mouthful of meat and gravy and answered, “You’ve heard right.” He glanced at me. “King Irdelron kept a store of Phaetyn blood to preserve his immortality. With the Phaetyn’s permission, this is now being put to use on the land.”
The king leaned forward. “The lands are healing?”
“They are.” Dyter nodded. “And they will continue to heal and provide a more bountiful harvest with each year. The Veraldian people will grow in strength.”
“I am happy for your people,” the king said, and I paused mid-chew, hearing the complete honesty of his words.
He sighed, resting his head in his hand. “If I could do the same for my people, I would.”
Yeah, right. I opened my mouth, but Dyter intercepted me. No doubt on purpose.
Dyter leaned down and picked up a small case, placing it on the table. I’d seen Caltevyn give it to him before we left Verald. He’d guarded the case during our trip as zealously as I guarded my meager collection. He pushed the case toward the Gemond king. “King Caltevyn sends his regards and this gift.”
The king glanced at the case. “With what intention?”
“No strings, King Zakai,” Dyter said, resting his cutlery on the table.
I cut a baby carrot in half, but for some reason, I wasn’t feeling hungry anymore.
“King Caltevyn wanted you to have this gift. He asked me to press upon you that this is yours, no matter what your decisions are regarding other matters.”
“The other matters being what?” the king asked drily, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. Zakai wasn’t a fool, regardless of his frailty.
Dyter wiped at his chin. “Joining our alliance against Emperor Draedyn.”
One of the servers gasped, and the king cut the woman a severe look. The servers fell silent.
“Indeed,” the king said, his gaze flitting between us, spending a long time on me before he leaned forward and opened the case.
The Gemond king’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Several moments passed before he lifted his gaze to Dyter and asked, “This isn’t—is this—”
“Two vials of Phaetyn blood,” Dyter finished for him. “Enough to heal your lands now and for a long time to come.”
The king didn’t speak, staring at the vials. Tears gathered in his rich blue eyes, dripping to the stone table, staining the dark gray slate black with moisture.
33
A lump of emotion formed at the back of my throat. King Zakai was nothing like I’d anticipated, and the contradiction of depravity I’d seen in the mountains to the emotion of the ruler of Gemond made no sense.
“Thank you,” he whispered, lifting his head. “You cannot know what this means to us, what it will mean to our people.”
Dyter dipped his head. “Actually, I do. Most of Verald was on the brink of starving for the last twenty years. I’ve starved more often than I’d like in my lifetime.”