Eona: The Last Dragoneye

his skin opened through me like a flower. “Yuso said you played your part brilliantly.”

I flushed. “Being Lord Eon was much easier. At least it had fewer hairpins and a lot less paint.”

He laughed. “But I like Lady Eona much more.” His finger dropped from my hair and traced the sweep of my jaw. “Truly, you look very beautiful.” The blatant appreciation in his eyes brought a flash of heat to my face.

I focused on our clasped hands. The leather thong still bound his ring against my wrist. Although something within me knew I should not say it, I could not stop the words. “I had a lot of help. From Moon Orchid.”

His fingers around mine tensed. I glanced up, almost afraid to see what was in his face. The soft smile sent a shard of ice into my heart.

“Moon Orchid helped you? How is she?”

“She is well. Very beautiful,” I said tightly.

He pulled his hand free and rubbed the back of his neck. “Good. That’s good.”

“She recognized your blood ring.” I forced my finger through the knot tied by Moon Orchid. With a yank, I unwrapped the leather and pulled it free from my wrist. “Here. I brought it back.”

We both stared at the ring swinging between us.

“Keep it,” he said.

“Moon Orchid said it meant a lot to you.”

“It does.”

“Your ‘step into manhood,’ she called it,” I said, with too much edge in my voice.

His fingers closed around the ring, stopping its arc. “Did you think I had lived as a monk, Eona?”

“Of course not,” I said, but I did not look up from his fist. I was a fool. He was an emperor, required by the law of his land to marry royalty, keep a harem, and sire many, many sons.

“I have not seen her for a year,” he added.

“It does not matter, does it?” I said, a terrible realization breaking over me. I let go of the leather, the two long strands falling over his hand. “I am not royal. And I will not be a concubine. There is no place for me.”

“There is a place for you if I say so.” He opened his fist. The ring had pressed a dark red indentation into his skin. “Your power changes everything. It has its own rules.”

It always came back to my power. Ido was right.

“What if I said you could have either me or my power? Which one would you choose?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Which would you choose?”

“It is not even a real choice, Eona. Your power is part of you.”

I lifted my chin. “Which one, Kygo? Tell me!”

His mouth tightened. “I would choose your power.” I pulled back, but he caught my shoulder. “I would choose your power because I choose for the empire. I can never just choose for myself. You said you understood.”

“I understand perfectly.” I knelt, dislodging his hand, and bowed my head. “May I withdraw, Your Majesty?”

“You are not just your power, I know that,” he said. “Eona, why are you creating a problem where there is none?”

I kept my head bowed.

“You are being ridiculous.” His voice snapped into exasperation.

“May I withdraw?”

He hissed out a breath. “All right, go.”

I backed away out of the shelter of the tree into the sun, the burning heat on my nape the only warmth in the whole of my frozen body.

I did not want company. Nor did I want the hunk of bread that Dela held out. But she would not go away. She crouched in front of me, blocking the sightline of my target, a tree stump a few lengths away. I leaned around her and threw another rock, hitting the wood with a satisfying clunk.

My retreat was not the most comfortable or prettiest of places — the small, raised outcrop of stones and dirt amid the lush grassland was like a scab on the earth, and it had no protection from the blazing sun — but it did have the advantage of being as far from Kygo as possible within the confines of our camp.

Dela dusted off a half-buried rock and placed the bread on it. “I hear that Master Tozay has found your mother,” she said.

I grunted and threw a smaller pebble. It ricocheted off the stump. Ten points, if I was keeping score.

“Finding your mother; that’s good, isn’t it?” she ventured.

I grunted again. If I said something, she would think it was an invitation to stay and talk. I’d had enough talk. And enough thinking. And definitely enough feeling.

“You seem to have had another disagreement with His Majesty,” she tried.

I chose the largest rock in reach and, with a hard flick of my wrist, spun it at the stump. It carved a chunk out of the wood, the sliver flying up in a high arc. That had to be at least twenty points.

“Was it about Lord Ido?” She edged over again, her brows drawn into a worried knit.

“No.”

“What was it, then? You cannot just sit here in the sun, throwing rocks. The perimeter guards are getting edgy. And you are ruining your complexion.”

I fingered the smooth stone in my hand. “What did you find in the folio?”

She looked down at the red journal, its pearls wrapped around her wrist. “How do you know I found something?”

I aimed again. The stone hit square and bounced into the bushes. If I were playing for coins — like I used to with the other Dragoneye candidates — I would be making a fortune.

“I found out who the other man was in the triangle with Kinra and Emperor Dao,” she said softly, breaking the silence.

I flicked over a few rock possibilities and chose a nasty edged piece of flint.

“It was Lord Somo,” Dela said.

“Never heard of him.”

“He was the Rat Dragoneye.”

I paused, my hand drawn back midthrow. “Kinra was in league with the Rat Dragoneye?” I looked across the clearing at Ido, the irony of it welling up into a harsh laugh.

“What do you think it means?” Dela asked.

“Nothing,” I said flatly. “The book is a history, not a prophecy.” I threw the flint. It completely missed the stump.

“But it does have the portent in it,” she said. I shrugged, unwilling to concede the point. “It is just a coincidence, then?”

“Yes,” I said firmly.

“I don’t think so.” Dela was just as firm. “Look at me, Eona.”

I finally met the worry in her deep-set eyes. “All right, then. What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But Lord Ido is here, and His Majesty is here. And you are between them. A Rat Dragoneye, an emperor, and a Mirror Dragoneye.”

“I am not between them. Lord Ido is here to train me. And Kygo is here to use me,” I said bitterly. “Use you?”

I cursed my tongue and the tears that had come to my eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” I groped for a change of subject. “Have you spoken to Ryko yet? Now that you know he returns your regard.”

She squinted at me, finally giving in to the clumsy deflection. “Yes, I spoke to him.” “And?”

“He said that he has nothing to offer me. No rank, no land. Not even his free will.” She sighed.

I leaned forward. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? You would take him with nothing, because you love him.” “Yes, of course.”

I picked up another rock and lined up the stump. “Lucky Ryko,” I said.