Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 42 - Expedition Under the Keep

The Great Keep

Claire signed the bottom of her letter with a calligraphic flourish, pleased with the improvement in her handwriting. She blotted the ink and replaced her writing things back into the desk. Talon's crown, left behind after the ball, glittered up at her beside the sheet of parchment. She picked it up, running her fingers over the stones, weighing it in her hands.

Her heart thumped against her chest. The thrill of holding a king's crown in her fingers. She recalled their time together after the ball. The feel of his lips against hers. The warmth of his arms. But most obviously, her desire. And his. The frenzy in his eyes.

The memory brought heat to her skin, even now. A smile curved her lips. Talon had left the crown here on purpose. As a game, perhaps, one she was all too eager to play.

But then he had gone away.

The morning after the ball, he received word of a pirate raid. A costal town on the northern tip of Galadhal's peninsula. The entire castle slept late following the ball, late enough for him to slip out unnoticed. His note—simply a few lines of text—had been pushed under her door. She found it when she woke from the sofa, still dressed in her ballgown. By the time she'd read it, he was already long gone, and Verath with him.

His promised absence, no longer than three days, was just long enough for him to fly to Fairfay, see to the people's needs, and fly home. Still, it bothered her that he hadn't sent someone else for the job. Why a king, when a Shield would do?

Why leave the crown behind if he simply planned to avoid her? Why jump at the first excuse to disappear? Was he looking for space? Was he running from what happened between them? Giving her time alone to consider their discussion?

Each day of his absence had needled these questions deeper beneath her skin. She thought of them even now, as her fingers slid over the onyx jewels. More than once, she'd scolded herself for it. She was not his keeper. He was Dragonwall's king. His duties were his own. It was selfish of her. Greedy. Childish.

But she missed him. The threads of their unsealed mate bond pulled tightly against her chest cavity with the separation. Almost painfully. Plaguing her every moment of each passing day. And then he had returned in secret, and the taught strings eased up. But that hurt even more. Because she thought he would seek her out upon his arrival. Happy to reunite.

It was Desaree who brought the news. Talon's servants had been spotted rushing to and from his tower, delivering messages and food. The master of the castle had returned. Returned and said nothing. Hours had passed without a word. She shouldn't have been upset, yet, emotion rolled beneath the surface. And a need to see him, which was the strongest of all she felt.

So she had done the only thing she could think of without appearing too silly. Written him a letter. She glanced over the contents, giving it a final read.

Dear Talon,

I hope your journey to Fairfay was productive? I have missed our walks together. You will be pleased to know that in lieu of your absence, I have returned to my lessons. It seemed prudent.

If you are not too busy tonight, I plan to visit the cave under the keep. Desaree, Jocelyn, Saffra, and I will be taking an excursion after the evening meal. Perhaps you might count it as our walk tonight? I would recommend bringing your Shields. They would appreciate seeing the passages too.

Oh, and I have a lovely new crown to decorate my quarters. A trophy, of sorts. Would you like it back? On second thought, I think I shall I keep it. I hear the metalsmith in the city does wonderful work. I might have him melt it into a matching bracelet for my necklace, or even a pair of earrings?