Page 21 of House of Ashes

My hands were coated with a white, slimy salve, but beneath it I could see that my palms were no longer raw but a soft, healing pink.

“I’ll be having a word with my brother,” she said softly, unwrapping my other hand. “No more ridiculous schemes. No more ropes. We have a proper riding harness in the eyrie.”

Once, I would’ve appreciated Kirana’s concern.

Now I only guessed at what her role in this charade was, and what she would get out of Tidas’s death.

I huffed out a laugh, flexing my hands. “That would’ve been appreciated.”

Kirana gently probed at my eye. The swelling had reduced, enough that I could now see clearly. “From now on, your wellbeing is my personal responsibility. I have very little time to turn you into a proper Dragonesse, so I fully expect both of you to listen when I tell you what to do.”

I held back a wince as her fingertips pressed against still-tender flesh. “So if Rhylan is the Drakkon-Apparent, and you’re the healer, what’s Loralei’s role?”

Kirana frowned as her hands moved down to my ribs, palpating sore areas. “Loralei isn’t here. She lives in Sylvaene Eyrie with the Jade Leaves now. Does this hurt? Can you breathe? I don’t think your ribs are cracked, but…”

I supposed that the last time I’d seen Loralei, she’d been fourteen. Four years was more than enough time for her to find a mate while in the Training Grounds.

Kirana pushed harder, and I gasped instead of breathing in calmly. “Gods damn it—”

“Definitely bruised, but they’re not broken. You’re going to take it easy for a few days.”

I held back the glower I wanted to give her. It was unwise to antagonize the draga responsible for my healing.

But I also wanted to distract her before she could start poking at any other sore areas—with the questions I wanted answered.

My mind chose to betray me instead.

“Why does Rhylan despise me so much?” I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

It was a question that had burned in me for years. He’d single-handedly annihilated my House, my family, and I still had no idea why.

Kirana glanced up at me, startled. Her eyes flicked toward the door, but it stood empty. “That’s for him to say. But I don’t harbor a grudge against you, Sera. I truly don’t.”

I drew my hands away from her. “A grudge for what?”

What had I done?

“For our mother’s death.” Kirana’s eyes widened as she sat up. “Did you…did you really not know that? They never told you what she was sentenced for?”

That ‘she’ could only be one person.

I knew my mother, Nerezza, had been exiled to Mistward Isle for murder. I was days away from my sixteenth birthday when the Drakkon had sentenced her, and me alongside her, though I hadn’t been present at the actual Judgment.

The Drakkon’s guardians had ripped me directly out of the Training Grounds and escorted me onto the ship that would take us to Mistward Isle, without so much as a hint as to what I’d been exiled for. Any attempt at talk or questions had been firmly rebuffed—with fists, if necessary—until the ship had reached Mistward’s shore.

They’d offloaded us, thrown a small bundle of supplies at Nerezza’s feet, and left without another word.

In our time on the Isle, my mother had never told me directly who she had—supposedly, in her words—killed, but she had strongly implied it was another of the Drakkon’s mistresses.

Nerezza had died bitter, declaring her innocence. I’d known I was innocent—I had never harmed anyone, let alone committed murder.

“Anjali…was never one of the Drakkon’s mistresses.” It was all I could think of to say.

Their mother had truly been one of the most beautiful draga in the world. Anjali of Obsidian Flame was renowned for it.

It was said she’d been offered so many bonding proposals she could have chosen a mate from any House in Akalla. Instead, she’d found her mate in the Wildlands, when her pleasure-ship was attacked by a Horde.

Their romance had turned into a fairy tale story for young dragons, beautiful Anjali fighting off a Horde dragon single-handedly, and he’d been so impressed with her beauty and ferocity that he had begged her to bond with him even while she was threatening to cut off his head.