Page 92 of Hearts on Fire
According to Elex, there were no more wars in Dakath for the foreseeable future. But peace had to be defended, too. Every king needed an army, and Elex had no intentions to dissolve his.
Isar inclined her head.
“I treasure your offer, my king. But there are a few things I wish to see and do in this world before making a commitment like that. I’ve decided to travel around Nerifir for a little while.” She gave him a smile over the rim of her wine glass. “That’ll give you some time to prove yourself as the king worth going into battle for. Show you can rule fairly and wisely, and I’ll come back to join your army.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed. “Whenever you wish to return, we’ll have a place for you in the Bozyr Peak.”
I knew Isar had always wished to travel and see the world. I was glad her dream was about to come true, but my heart pinched with sadness at having to say goodbye to her so soon.
“How about you, Voron?” I asked the sky fae who sat at my left. “What position would you like to hold at the Bozyr Peak?”
Voron swirled the tart pomegranate wine in his glass, squinting at the garnet-red liquid.
“Actually, my queen, I think I’m ready to collect on my royal favor.”
“Already? Have you decided what you want?”
He gave his glass another swirl. “I have.”
“What is it?”
His blue-gray eyes focused on me, as if assessing how much one could trust a human to fulfill her promise. The intensity in his stare was a bit unnerving, making me squirm.
“Voron, what is it that you want to ask me for?”
He set his glass on the table. Hard.
“I wish to go back to the Sky Kingdom.”
“You want to leave here?” My heart squeezed with a new pang of sadness—another goodbye. “You know with the royal couple as your friends you can have pretty much anything you want in Dakath Kingdom.”
I smiled. He did too, but it didn’t reach his eyes that remained cool, like a frosted pond in winter.
“You see, dear Amber, you’ve inspired me in a way.”
“I have? How?”
He directed his gaze to the early afternoon sky in the open window.
“If a human woman could find her place among the stone-cold gargoyles and thrive, there must be a chance for me in the world I was born in, don’t you think?” He glanced back at me. There was something new in his look. Hope? Vulnerability? Ambition? I believed I glimpsed all of that.
“I hope there is, Voron. And if so, I’m sure you’ll find a way to thrive, too.”
He smirked, taking a sip of his wine. “Would you ask your new husband to fly me up there, then?”
“Why can’t you fly yourself?” I blurted out.
I’d heard that highborn sky fae like Voron could fly just as fast as gargoyles, if not faster.
He let go of his glass. His gaze traveled over the tables and the guests again, to the window and the sky beyond.
“Tell me, Amber, if a wingless dragon is a lizard, what is a wingless crow?”
I gaped at him as realization struck me. Voron couldn’t fly. Like almost every gargoyle of the Desolate Peak, he had no wings.
He gave me a bitter smile. “Exactly. There is no word for something like that, is there? Other thanan abomination.”
Compassion tugged at my heart. If Voron looked at least a tiny bit more approachable, I’d squeeze him in a hug. The cool glint in his eyes, however, demanded I keep my distance.