(eng) Lindsay Buroker - Dragon Blood 08 by Oaths

Author:Oaths [Oaths]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

12

The man who had delivered the envelope led Sardelle all the way through the castle and to the door to Angulus’s office, the one upstairs and in the back, attached to his private suite.

Sardelle smoothed her dress, wishing she had run into the house to change into something more formal instead of only grabbing Jaxi.

Only. Jaxi made a sniffing sound in Sardelle’s mind. As if I’m not the most important thing in the house to grab.

You definitely are. If ever there’s a fire, I’ll grab you first.

And wave the flames toward Ridge’s couch, I hope.

I fear that monstrosity may be fire retardant.

I could test that theory, Jaxi said as Sardelle’s guide knocked on the door.

She patted her hair to make sure it was all still back in a neat braid.

“Come in,” Angulus called from inside.

The man pushed open the door, stepped in, and presented her as, “Ms. Sardelle Terushan here to see you, Sire.”

Then he stepped back, letting her take his spot, and closed the door as he exited.

Angulus wasn’t the one occupying his chair behind the desk. Fern sat there, dabbing a handkerchief monogrammed with the king’s initials to her eyes. She lowered it when Sardelle entered, her expression growing difficult to read.

A tray of fresh cinnamon buns rested on the desk next to a basket of homemade soaps, the latter a gift she’d presumably brought to him. Sardelle couldn’t tell from the door what shapes they were carved into, only that they were different colors.

Worried the meeting wasn’t going well—what exactly was this about?—Sardelle looked to Angulus, who leaned against a bookcase nearby. For a moment, she thought something might have happened to Ridge. Why else would his mother be in tears?

No, this is all about you, Jaxi said, and the shattering of long-held beliefs.

“Good afternoon, Sardelle,” Angulus said gravely. “I’m glad you were able to make it.”

“Of course, Sire.” Sardelle curtseyed, then nodded to Fern. “Mrs. Zirkander.”

Sardelle usually called her Fern—Fern had insisted on that—but didn’t know where she stood with the woman now.

“We’ve been discussing the return of magic into the world,” Angulus said, “and how it’s getting harder to ignore it these days.”

“Are you really three hundred years old?” Fern blurted, then glanced at Angulus and shrank back into the chair, as if she wasn’t sure she should speak.

“I was born more than three hundred years ago, yes,” Sardelle said, “but I was trapped in a stasis chamber for most of that time, placed into a sort of hibernation where I didn’t age and wasn’t aware of the outside world. As far as I know, I’m essentially thirty-five years old, but during the time I slept, everyone I knew, including all of my family, passed away.” She didn’t want to appeal for sympathy from Fern but thought the information would answer a few questions Fern might have had about Sardelle over the months they’d known each other, such as why her side of the wedding guest list was so small.

Fern bent forward and coughed into the handkerchief.

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