Aleksi walked beside him. “Why isn’t the king here?”
“Good question.” Silas couldn’t understand why Petras had run off to the Sacred Well. There was nothing there but a hot spring bubbling up in the middle of an underground cavern. “Tell Karlan to alert me the minute His Majesty returns. And make arrangements for a boat so we can take our guests downriver to Eberon. We’ll leave at dawn.”
Aleksi’s eyes widened. “We’re taking the child back? Without the king’s approval?”
“If we wait, Norveshka could end up at war with three countries. Petras will understand.”
“If he doesn’t, you could be charged with treason.”
“The risk will be mine alone. You’re simply following orders.”
Aleksi huffed. “You think I’m worried about myself? I’ve faced death with you too many times to chicken out now.”
“I know.” Silas clapped him on the shoulder. “Go on, then.”
Aleksi sprinted down the hallway to Karlan’s office.
With a sigh, Silas headed for the courtyard. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to risk the king’s wrath. But it was his sworn duty to protect the country, even when the danger came from the king or queen.
As Silas stepped into the courtyard, his gaze fell on the runes etched into the stone pavement. Protection from the damned curse. He snorted. Fighting superstition with more superstition. Since the so-called curse had persisted for five hundred years, it should be obvious by now that the runes were absolutely worthless. But that had been the only solution his ancestors could come up with.
Why did no one seek a more rational explanation? If the queen was being poisoned, then a human was behind it. Romak? Perhaps, but Silas knew from experience that things were never as simple as they seemed.
Even though he much preferred being with his troops than a gaggle of overdressed, fawning courtiers, he would have to spend some time here. Something rotten was going on at Draven Castle, and he needed to get to the bottom of it.
His gaze wandered to the top floor of the western wing, where the nursery was located. He’d better make sure the princess was faring well. And her fearless nanny.
As he crossed the courtyard, a mental picture of Gwennore flitted across his mind, and he smiled. She was nothing like the vain and self-serving courtiers who inhabited the castle. There was an aura of honesty and goodness about her that was refreshing, a sense of loyalty and courage that was admirable. Not to mention she was damned beautiful.
But how strange that he was looking forward to seeing an elf again.
Chapter Five
“I like the toys here.” Eviana splashed about in the tub in the dressing room. “But I wanna go home.”
“Me, too.” Gwennore soaped up the little girl, who was playing with an assortment of painted, wooden toys that bobbed on the surface of the warm water.
“Look, a big fish!” Eviana picked up one that was painted blue.
“That’s a whale.” Gwennore touched a sleek black toy. “And this one is a seal.” Like Maeve.
How she missed her sisters! For as long as Gwennore could remember, she’d never spent a night separated from all four of them.
Tonight, when the full moons embraced, her youngest sister, Maeve, would shift into a seal. She’d been doing it every month at the full moon for almost three years now. Gwennore could still remember the first time, that summer night on the Isle of Moon.
Poor Maeve had been so frightened. Brody had warned them what to expect, so Gwennore and Sorcha had accompanied their youngest sister to the nearby beach. Love and encouragement had been all they could offer, for poor Maeve had been forced to endure the pain on her own.
Luckily, once she’d entered the water, she’d found another seal there, eager to swim and play with her. Ever since then, Maeve had looked forward to her monthly romp in the ocean. She claimed the shifting didn’t hurt at all now.
Gwennore figured her little sister would have to make do with the Norva River this time. And most likely, there would be no other seals to keep her company.
It had to be a miserable night there at the camp. No doubt, the party had been canceled, and the two kings were mobilizing their armies. Luciana had to be scared to death.
Tears threatened to fall, but Gwennore blinked them away. She couldn’t afford to be weak now. For Eviana’s sake, she needed to remain strong and confident.
“Are you done?” Olenka rushed into the dressing room. “Nissa has brought some food.”
Eviana clutched at Gwennore’s arm. “What’s wong?”
“Everything’s fine,” Gwennore assured her in Eberoni. The poor child was so easily frightened now. “’Tis time for ye to eat, so let’s get ye dressed.” She lifted the little girl from the tub and winced as pain shot across her back.
“Are you hurt?” Olenka handed her a white linen towel and a child’s nightgown from the nearby cabinet.
“My back is a little sore.”
Olenka tsked. “You shouldn’t have carried the child up all those stairs.”
Gwennore nodded, even though she suspected her aches and pains were the result of her body slamming into Puff’s forelegs. As she dried off Eviana, she spotted the small punctures where the dragon’s talons had pierced the little girl’s skin. “I’ll need an ointment for these.”
“Of course. I’ll send the maid for it.” Olenka hurried out the door.
Gwennore slipped the nightgown over Eviana’s head, combed out her hair, then led her back into the nursery.
“Come and eat.” Olenka motioned to the small table set with bread, cheese, fruit, and pastries.
Eviana took a bite from an apple tart and grinned. “This is yummy!”
A knock sounded at the door, then Dimitri opened it to let another servant in. She bobbed an awkward curtsy, since her arms were burdened with a huge stack of clothes.
“Begging your pardon. Lady Margosha sent these for…” The servant gulped at the sight of Gwennore. “For … you.”
Gwennore groaned inwardly. Once again she was being regarded with horror.
Olenka’s mouth fell open. “Those are the most beautiful gowns from our storeroom!”
The
