The frustration in his heart eased. The elfin woman obviously felt a great amount of love toward Luciana’s child. So chances were good that she felt the same way toward her adopted sisters, including Sorcha. He smiled at the thought of his sister growing up with the loving support of good friends. At least something in this world had gone right.
But how strange that the only comfort he’d found today had been caused by an elf. His smile faded.
How had she been able to hear the dragons? As far as he knew, no dragon had ever had a mental conversation with an elf. There were only a few Norveshki men who could communicate with the creatures, and they were all descended from the Three Cursed Clans.
Why was she different? And why was she so damned beautiful? Crap, where had that thought come from?
He’d met plenty of elfin warriors over the years. Hell, he’d killed more of them than he cared to remember. But Gwennore was the only female elf he’d ever seen. By their standards, she might be quite ordinary.
He snorted. Who was he kidding? Her skin was a luminous white that reminded him of the sun glistening off freshly fallen snow. Her eyes were the color of wild bluebells that carpeted the forests in early spring. Her hair was as white as a cloud on a summer day. If there were such a thing as an angel, she would look just like—
Elf, he reminded himself. She was a damned elf, not an angel.
The first time he’d encountered an elfin army on the field, he’d been fifteen years old, and he’d laughed at the sight of them. How could men who were pretty even fight?
But a few seconds into battle, he’d realized his mistake. A minute into battle and he had struggled to stay alive. Their graceful moves were carefully crafted for the sole purpose of delivering death. Their elegant features masked a vicious determination. And their calm demeanor was merely a camouflage for their impassioned courage.
Apparently, an elfin woman could be just as courageous and determined. And even more graceful and beautiful.
The door creaked open, and he turned to greet Lady Margosha as she entered, carrying a tray.
The lady-in-waiting glanced at the closed bedchamber door. “How is Her Majesty?”
“Better, I believe. Two of her ladies are with her.” Silas leaned into the hallway to make sure it was empty, then closed the door. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “Thank you for sending the warning.”
Lady Margosha winced. “A little too late.”
“Still appreciated, though.” He had been relying on Margosha for years now, even though he hated the risk she took whenever she dispatched a carrier pigeon to him.
His conscience pricked at him again when he noticed there was more gray than red in her hair. The older woman could have retired to a nice cottage in the village, but instead, she had volunteered to wait on the queen, claiming that the younger ladies would benefit from her years of experience. Her true reason, though, had been a secret agreement with Silas to serve as his spy.
He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want—”
“I know that,” she whispered. “But our country is suffering, and this is the only way I know to help. If anyone can save us, I believe it is you.”
Her confidence in him was humbling. “I’ll try my best.” He relieved her of the heavy tray and plunked it on a nearby table.
She patted him on the shoulder. “You were always a good boy.”
He snorted. As his former governess, Margosha had usually called him a naughty boy. “I didn’t realize the queen had gotten this much worse.”
Margosha glanced at the closed bedchamber door. “It only became apparent the last few days. I kept hoping I was just imagining it, but…” Her eyes filled with tears. “How can I watch this happen again?”
Silas felt his gut clench. Margosha had served his mother for years, helplessly watching as she had slowly descended into madness. He’d been six years old that spring when his mother had leaped off a bridge and been swept away by the Norva River, thunderous and swollen with snowmelt.
“It won’t happen again,” he whispered. “We won’t let it.”
Margosha blinked back tears. “I hope you’re right.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. After his mother’s death, she’d become his governess and had helped him survive the grief. “Remember what you always told me. Never give up. Even when it seems that everyone else has.”
She nodded with a sad smile.
He glanced at the tray. A pot of tea and a small plate of bread and cheese. “Are you still having all her food tasted?”
“I’ve been tasting everything myself.” She gave him a wry look. “And as far as I can tell, I’m still sane.”
“Are you sure?” He smiled when she swatted his arm.
“You were always a naughty boy,” she grumbled.
“That sounds more familiar.”
She huffed, but her eyes twinkled with humor.
His smile faded. “I can’t believe Petras did this. Doesn’t he realize Eberon and Tourin will declare war on us? I must return the princess and the elfin woman as soon as possible.”
Margosha nodded. “I agree.”
“If you don’t mind, could you send some clothes to the woman? She arrived with nothing.”
“I’ll send a few things.” Margosha gave him a curious look. “How did she come here with the princess? Is she not from Woodwyn?”
“She’s the adopted sister of Queen Luciana of Eberon and Queen Brigitta of Tourin. And she grew up with Sorcha.”
“Oh, my.” Margosha’s eyes widened. “I’ll be sure to send some lovely things then. But how did she manage to arrive with the child?”
“She hitched a ride on a dragon.”
Margosha’s mouth fell open. “That was extremely brave of her.”
Silas nodded. Loyal and brave. The two qualities he admired the most.
“Well.” Margosha picked up the tray. “I should take this in before the tea grows cold. And don’t worry. With any luck,
