Page 2 of The Dragon King
“It’s the Great Tree, the source of power of the forest, next to the cemetery that’s been disturbed by his dark magic.” Her eyes widened. “Guards will be stationed there at all times while he’s in the forest. But if he ventures anywhere close, I will kill him myself. If you wish him to live, I suggest you keep him away.”
I gave a nod. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
She turned her gaze to look behind me, probably to lock her gaze on Talon.
A moment later, he approached, casting a shadow over me when he blocked the sun.
“I will permit you into the forest, under the watchful eye of my men. You’re only allowed in Calista’s accommodations and the royal palace. Is that understood?”
He stared down at her as well, his hard gaze locked on her eyes. He clearly wasn’t used to being spoken to like an inferior, but he didn’t lash out with an insult as he normally would. “Yes.” He said it with a bite in his tone.
“We would welcome Khazmuda into our forest, but there’s simply no room for him.”
“I understand,” he said. “He prefers the open sky to the closed canopy anyway.”
Her gaze shifted to me, and just as she did with her husband, she held a silent conversation with me.I’m counting on you. Then she turned away and began her trek back into the forest.
It was a long journey to the center of the forest, and we spent that time in silence. The guards flanked us, allowing the queen to walk ahead with Ezra at her side.
Talon looked out of place in the midst of grass and flowers, his armor like a shadow of darkness. The birds normally chirped from their branches above, but Talon’s presence seemed to drive them away. It was the first time the forest was quiet…utterly silent.
Not a word was spoken. Talon stared straight ahead, and if he felt out of place, he didn’t show it.
We didn’t take a break like we normally did, because the queen was eager to return to the royal palace as soon as possible. I noticed she didn’t speak with my uncle, not once, their eyes focused ahead.
I heard the forest before I saw it, heard the music slowly growing louder, an ethereal sound that was felt through all the leaves in the trees.
Talon had no reaction, like he either didn’t hear it or didn’t care to hear it.
Then the center of the forest came into view, elves on the paths and in the market, but there was a solemn pain in the air, the aftermath of the war felt in everyone’s bones. It wasn’t the same magical place as it had been, not when it had been tainted by the rise of the dead.
Some of the elves immediately turned our way, and instead of regarding Queen Eldinar with admiration, their frightened eyes turned to Talon—the Death King. They stared, their fair faces pale like snow, and they all stopped what they were doing to look, horrified that the enemy had entered their forest with open arms.
Talon ignored them, staring straight ahead like public opinion meant nothing to him.
We were escorted away from the royal palace and farther into the forest, where my tree house was located off the main path, high up in one of the enormous trees. There were other tree houses in the vicinity, but they were all facing in different directions so everyone had complete privacy.
We approached the vines that acted as a staircase. “These are tricky?—”
Talon stepped onto the vines and carried himself up like he’d done it before. He conducted himself just as Luxe had, with the grace of an elf. He rounded the other side of the trunk and continued up, carrying the weight of his pack. His weapons hadbeen taken from him to be kept in the queen’s possession until she deemed it necessary to return them.
The soldiers took their stations around the trunk of the tree, making it impossible for Talon to escape without their knowledge.
I followed him, moving at a much slower pace because I still hadn’t mastered the vines, even though I’d gone up and down many times. It was a long walk to the top, so long that it acted as a deterrent to leaving. Sometimes I stayed in my tree house for days because the trek to the bottom and back up again just seemed like too much.
I made it to the top and found him standing there, looking at the armchair he’d occupied in our previous conversations, when he’d sat there in nothing but his sweatpants, when he’d touched me with only his stare.
After a moment, he walked away, carrying his pack to the bedroom where I slept alone. He tossed the bag onto the armchair then stared at the rumpled bed, the sheets kicked back because I’d left my bed in a hurry.
When he turned to look at me again, it was with a hint of anger.
“What is it?”
He severed our connection and walked around me to the kitchen, looking at the dining table where he’d sat across from me—Luxe in between us. He rested his fingers on the surface, and he stared before he pulled out the chair and took a seat, slouching, knees wide apart, looking out the open window to the forest beyond.
I took the seat across from him.
He wouldn’t look at me.