“Whoa—” Draven stepped in front of her and grabbed her arms. “Do not forget you are not in your kingdom any longer,” he said in a low tone. He let her arms go, and he turned around to the stranger. “Nadir, this is Aydra Ravenspeak.”
Nadir’s arms crossed over his toned chest, the vein in his taut forearms splintering around his elbow. The lean build of his swimmer-like body reminded her once more of the ocean, and she started to have an inkling of what he was.
“Ravenspeak?” he repeated.
“The surname my giver gave upon my marking,” Aydra informed him as she pushed her hair off her neck to reveal the raven silhouetted triad marking on the side of her throat.
Nadir’s gaze traveled over her once more, and she suddenly felt as though she were being scrutinized, as if he were determining her worth for battle, whether she was truly who Draven said she was or worthy of the title.
“Where is your crown, Sun Queen?” he finally asked.
Her jaw clenched, and she bit the inside of her cheek. “I dare not wear it when in a realm I do not command,” she replied coldly. “And who are you?”
The right corner of Nadir’s lip twisted just slightly, and he raised a brow in Draven’s direction. “I didn’t know you kept the company of the Promised, Hunter.”
“It’s new,” Draven replied as he straightened some of the papers on his desk, eyes darting towards Aydra.
Nadir turned back to Aydra, and she watched as the gills on his neck suddenly flickered visibly, just for a second, as though he were flexing them to prove he was what he claimed. “Nadir Storn, leading commander of the Honest army.”
Aydra’s arms crossed over her own chest. “The Honest have an army?”
“Who do you think has been protecting our shores for the last few hundred years?” Nadir smarted. His weight shifted, and he looked to Draven again. “What’s she doing here?” he asked him.
“Good question.” Draven straightened up and leaned his weight against the table, his butt just sitting on the surface as he pressed his palms into the wood on either side of him. “What are you doing here?”
Aydra’s eyes narrowed at the way he looked at her then. “Did you think I would ignore you?” she spat.
Draven’s eyes squinted at her. “You wrote me back a letter with only one word. One. Single. Word. One word that told me you’d fallen for your brother’s and the Chronicles’ lies once more.”
“I didn’t write any letter.”
Draven reached back and snatched a piece of parchment off the top pile of his desk. It landed in her hands, and he stood haughtily over her as she read.
Lies.
Her heart skipped at the writing on the page. “I didn’t write this,” she protested, meeting his eyes. “Draven, I swear—”
“Did the Orel go straight to you or did your lady deliver it?” Draven asked.
Aydra’s stomach plummeted, and she avoided his gaze, staring into nothing as she remembered the morning on which she’d received it. “My lady, Willow. She gave it to me.”
“Just perfect,” Nadir mumbled.
Draven’s nostrils flared. “You’re under more of a watch than I previously thought.”
“My brother has had Belwarks escorting me, but he has no spies—”
Brows raised on Draven’s face. “Really?” He strode determinedly through the wide opening and onto the deck, where he leaned over the edge. “Then how do you explain the company of riders coming in from our west.”
Color drained from her face, and she stumbled hastily to the deck where he stood. The wind wrapped around her, and she knew he’d heard the noise of the company carrying on the wind. Lex launched herself out of the chair and went to stand at her side.
“They must be from the Village,” Lex said.
Aydra squeezed the railing in her hand. “Fucking Rhaif,” she hissed under her breath. “But if they’re from the Village, that means…”
Lex met her gaze, and at the same time they said, “Fucking Ash.”
A murmur of whispers and concerned voices had started in the yard below. Hunters were starting to gather, all looking up to Draven for their next move. Nadir cursed under his breath, his large thin hands gripping the banister as though he could ring the water out of the wood. “How far out?” he asked Draven.
“They’ll be here in an hour,” Draven answered. He pushed off the banister and started down the steps faster than Aydra could muster a protest.
“Everyone in the trees!” he bellowed out.
Echoes of his orders surrounded them. Nadir shouted something to his own men, and they bounded off the barrels and tree stumps they’d been sitting on. Aydra’s eyes widened at the quickness of the men and women moving around her, arrows and bows being thrown in the air to their persons. Men took spears from their walls, knives pushing into their boots. And then the Hunters began ascending to the canopies, clamoring up the trunks of the great trees and climbing the ropes hanging down.
Nadir ran down the stairs behind Draven, to which Aydra shortly followed. She drowned out the orders he gave his men and ran after Draven.
“There will be no shooting unless they shoot first,” Draven called out. “Be prepared for anything. If it is a war Magnice wants, we shall be ready for it.”
Aydra grabbed Draven’s arm and whirled him around to face her. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Preparing my men,” he said simply.
“Do you truly think—”
“I know you are a long way from home,” he cut in, brows narrowed as he stared down at her. “The last time you were in my realm, your brother accused me of kidnapping you. I will assume he thinks the same this time.”
“I left of my own accord,” she argued.
“Did you tell him where you were going?” he asked. “Did you tell him you were coming to help me? Did you tell him of the boats?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t.”
“And did you tell him about us?”
A pause washed over her, and she
