Page 12 of The Blade in the Ashes
My throat tightened, awkwardness and uncertainty choking me and stiffening my muscles. I was a statue under his stare.
“Well then.” He grinned, a twinkle dancing in his eyes. “Let’s not be late.”
He offered me an elbow, looking down at me expectantly. Swallowing my fear, I ignored the heaviness in my heart and took his arm.
“I’m glad you decided to come to dinner,” he mused as we began walking down the hall. “I was beginning to worry you would never come out of our room.”
Ourroom.
The room we shared as husband and wife.
“You were right, Caldrius.” I let myself lean into him. “I couldn’t stay in our room forever.”
Chapter Four
By the time Caldrius and I showed ourselves into the Dragon’s—Hyrax’s—suites, a feast already sat upon the elaborately carved wooden dining table. Despite his absence, the meal had been arranged carefully, almost artistically. A platter of roast boar sat in the center, covered in a berry glaze. Rye bread, aged cheese, roasted vegetables, poached pears, chestnut tarts. A meal fit for a king.
It was as if the kitchens hadn’t even hesitated when they’d been told the Dragon was dead and the God of the Underworld would replace him.
A quarter of an hour passed while we waited for Hyrax to emerge, time spent in an awkward silence that was broken only by Caldrius incessantly tapping his finger against the oak table.
“Does he usually take this long?” I muttered under my breath.
Dark eyes met mine, betraying nothing of his thoughts. “Did you expect him to be predictable?”
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, rushed, heavy footfalls sounded as Hyrax burst out of the far door that led to the bedroom.
“My liege,” Caldrius greeted him, standing immediately and bowing his head in respect.
I followed his lead, rising to my feet, though I refused to bow as I met the steely blueeyes of my father.
Seeing him here immediately struck me as strange. It wasn’t just the oddness of seeing him in the Dragon’s suites; it was the inherent wrongness of seeing him in my waking life, in the Mortal Realm.
I suppose I could say that I had known Hyrax my entire life—even before I actually knew I had the power to cross the Veil, I’d gone to him in my dreams. I’d spent countless nights talking with Hyrax, but I’d only ever seen him in the caverns of the Underworld.
Somehow, interacting with Caldrius here had come naturally, but Hyrax, with his dark, suffocating power rolling off him in waves, was too large for this realm.
Hyrax himself seemed… strange though. Off-kilter.
His silvered hair was uncombed, hanging down over his brow above swollen, red-rimmed eyes. His beard, usually well-trimmed, was unruly and overgrown. He wore the finery of a king, a close-cut silver jacket with brass buckles, but it seemed to hang off a frame that was far leaner than it had been when I had last seen him.
“Theadora,” my name was barely a breath across his lips.
And then he was moving towards me.
Grasping onto my forearms.
Pulling me to him.
Huggingme.
Hyrax was hugging me.
I was too shocked by it to do anything other than stand limply in his embrace until he pulled back to look me over, a tight smile resting on his face, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“My dear, you lookwonderful.” He beckoned us towards the table. “Please sit; let us not waste this food.”
I glanced at Caldrius, who simply raised a shoulder before pushing my chair in for me after I sat. He fell effortlessly into the seat next to me,trapping me between the God who had borne me and the mad king who had married me.
