Wings of Stone by J. D. Monroe

Author:J. D. Monroe [Monroe, J. D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mobi
Publisher: Mighty Fine Books, LLC
Published: 2017-02-05T22:00:00+00:00

They passed the next hour laughing over glasses of wine, carefully dodging the uncomfortable topic of the past. Navan told him the stories of his promotion and how he’d been keeping an eye on the shapely scholar Ohldana. Tarek told his old friend of the sights and sounds of the human world, including the neon glitz of Vegas. There was nothing that compared in their world, and he knew his words didn’t do it justice.

“I should like very much to see this Vegas,” Navan said.

“It would be my pleasure to introduce you,” Tarek said, though he knew that it would be nothing short of a miracle for the captain of the Adamant Guard to leave the citadel for such a frivolous journey. As the guard captain, he served with the sword as needed, but primarily acted as an overseer and administrator to all of the guards and soldiers who served the queen.

Alora tapped Navan’s shoulder and waited patiently for him to acknowledge her. “Sir, it’s time.”

“Oh, just another glass,” Navan said.

Alora raised her eyebrow. “Sir,” she said emphatically. “You will be late. Again. And then Raszila will be angry with me for not helping you properly.”

Navan gave a long-suffering sigh, drained the last of his glass, and rose to his full height. He glanced over his shoulder, then crouched so that he was on eye-level with the petite woman. Despite Navan’s position, it was clear who was really in charge. Navan raised his eyebrow. “You should tell Raszila to scold me next time,” he said.

“Sir, I am certain she would be happy to scold you,” Alora said. With a practiced gesture, she swept the heavy cloak around Navan’s massive shoulders and used several long, sharp pins to connect it to his ornate chest armor. After fiddling with the minute pleats and gathers, she finally left Navan alone and brought Tarek a decorative chest plate and a plain, dark cloak. The chest armor was polished silver with the queen’s crest in a raised pattern across the sternum. With the efficiency of a soldier, Alora ordered him to turn and crouch so she could fix the straps. If she thought anything of being so close to him, she didn’t show it. He was no more interesting to her than a bare patch of wall that needed to be decorated. Even when she had to adjust his trousers to lay properly under the plate, she didn’t bat an eyelash. He wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or not. When she was satisfied with her work, she nodded her approval and patted Tarek’s armored chest.

“You may go,” Alora said with the same imperious air of the queen.

Navan smiled indulgently at her. “I guarantee we will be the best dressed of the Stoneflight.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere, sir,” Alora said. But Tarek saw the way her mouth quirked up as she turned away to gather Navan’s discarded clothing.

“Well, my old friend, I should like very much to continue this conversation, but I have to wrangle this bunch of fools into shape before the feast.

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