Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 48 - The Big Reveal

Kastali Dun

Verath watched their small group assemble from the armchair in the corner of King Talon's sitting area. He'd arrived earliest to claim it, but mostly to observe, to glean some reason for this abnormal meeting. He wondered if it had anything to do with Lady Caterina's disappearance. The king had already completed the necessary documents to confer Desaree's new title. But why assemble everyone for it?

Lady Desaree.

His gaze landed on Desaree, eyes taking in the curve of her neck and shoulders as she moved across the room, arm in arm with Claire. Saffra and Jocelyn followed in a similar manner. Desaree's chocolaty tresses were held in place atop her head, not a single strand out of place. Tonight she wore a brocade of dusty pink silk.

His hand twitched. He drummed his fingers against the rolled arm of his chair to keep from thinking about the softness of her hair, to keep from thinking about how he wanted to run his fingers through it. If he'd ever again be allowed the chance to do so.

Clenching his teeth, he forced the thought away. He needed to let her go. She deserved more than he could give—a family, marriage to someone who could provide a home and a future. All he had to offer was his love.

He glanced around the room, taking in each of his brothers as they congregated around Reyr, slapping him on the back, full of questions. He'd already greeted Reyr after the evening meal. They'd spoken at length, in the privacy of Reyr's quarters.

He sighed. What a day it had been. With Lady Caterina's disappearance, he had combed the city for hours. Guards had done the same. There was no sign of her. The only tip came from a downtrodden tavern near the docks, of a woman who sought a merchant ship captain for passage. The same damned captain who had delivered their large order of Ice Metal not long ago. Reports claim it had happened the evening of the ball. Around the same time she must have disappeared from her classes with Mage Targa.

He worried, though it was fruitless to do so. He worried that her disappearance would catch up with them. Perhaps not tomorrow, or even months from now. But when?

The atmosphere in the sitting room abruptly changed. He glanced up. King Talon strode in, shoulders back, the picture of regality. Everyone snapped to attention. "Sit, sit," he murmured, encouraging them to get comfortable. The trouble was, there weren't enough places. It was a game of shifting and arguing.

At last, Talon's Shields squeezed together on one sofa—Reyr propped on the left arm, Bedelth and Jovari in the middle, and Koldis on the right arm—while Desaree, Jocelyn, and Saffra squeezed together on the other sofa. That left Claire and Talon eying the large armchair near the fire. Talon's usual spot.

Claire positioned herself on the arm, sitting aloof. Not missing a beat, Talon plopped comfortably down beside her, placing his hand against her back, rubbing down the length of her spine with absentminded ease.

Verath sat straighter, observing. They had grown close, but something seemed different tonight. A distracting change.

"We make quite the merry party," Talon observed, his eyes dancing over them. The fire crackled in the background, warm and inviting. Claire turned to Talon and smiled down at him. Something deeper manifested in her gaze when he returned it, speech without words. The others didn't miss the exchange. Koldis and Jovari shared a pointed glance.

King Talon spoke again, "I called this meeting because Claire and I have something to tell you. But first, I'd like to address the matter of Desaree."

Desaree twitched. Her face paled under the sudden attention.