Dragon's Blood (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy #2)

“Send them in,” Drystan commanded the steward, his deep voice echoing in the chamber.

The guards nodded and opened the double doors to admit the envoy. The steward entered, and directly behind him, a tall elven female with long, silver hair sailed in, her willowy frame draped in shimmering green and white fabric. Her jade eyes were arctic, her aristocratic features coldly beautiful, and she wore a cruel smile on her face as she glided toward the throne, flanked by two elven soldiers.

“Presenting the Duchess Lilani of House Valenhall,” Tarius said, bowing low. The duchess inclined her head in the barest show of deference, and Dareena felt a brief flash of anger. From the way Drystan’s jaw tightened, she knew he’d seen the slight as well. “Lady Valenhall, you stand before Princes Drystan, Lucyan, and Alistair, Princess and General Tariana, and the Dragon’s Gift, Dareena.”

“Charmed,” the duchess drawled, her green eyes flicking over the princes dismissively before latching onto Dareena. “Though I can’t say I’m particularly impressed at the dragon god’s choice,” she said, arching a pale blonde eyebrow. “Perhaps he, too, realizes how hopeless your situation is.”

“Did you come here to speak to us, or are you here to bandy about insults?” Lucyan asked in an utterly bored voice before Dareena could voice the retort that was burning her lips. “If it is the latter, you have come a long way. A letter would have been perfectly sufficient.”

The duchess bared her teeth in the semblance of a smile. “You are flippant for a man who is on the brink of losing his country,” she said. “Although, whose country is it now? Our spies have already reported King Dragomir’s abdication—I assume you are king now, since you are sitting on his throne?” she asked Drystan.

“I am,” Drystan said, not missing a beat. It took everything Dareena had not to exchange glances with Lucyan and Alistair—if Drystan didn’t want the duchess to know about their decision to rule jointly, there must be a good reason for it. “And as I understand it, you are here to take my wife hostage in exchange for the release of our prisoners.”

“I am indeed.” Lady Valenhall smirked. “In addition, both sides will call for an immediate cessation of hostilities, and the royal families will sit down together to negotiate a truce.”

“Why not do that now?” Alistair demanded, speaking up for the first time. “Instead of wasting all this time bandying about with hostages, the king could have traveled here himself, and we could have something signed by the end of the day. We are not warmongers, Lady Valenhall—that was our father’s way, and as you can see, he is gone.”

“You’ll forgive me if my king doesn’t trust you at your word,” the duchess said with a cold smile. “Given the history between our two races, it would be foolish for us to give up our bargaining chip. As you can imagine, holding thousands of soldiers prisoner is quite troublesome, not to mention expensive. We would much rather give them back to you and take your Dragon’s Gift in their stead.”

“And if we refuse?” Drystan asked.

“Then the prisoners will be executed immediately.”

The princes stiffened, and Tariana’s eyes blazed with hatred. Dareena felt numb all over—how could the elves sanction the murder of thousands? Were they really such an awful, bloodthirsty people? Surreptitiously, she fingered the stone on her right ring finger, wondering if she truly descended from the same race as the cruel woman who stood before them.

“Very well,” Drystan said. “We agree to your terms, on one condition.”

“You are hardly in a position to make demands.”

“You will acquiesce to this one,” Drystan said firmly. “The Dragon’s Gift may be the future mother of my children, but she is still only human herself. I insist on sending Alistair, my brother, with her to Elvenhame for protection.”

“Two hostages for the price of one?” Lady Valenhall said, sounding delighted. “Well, if you insist.”

“You must also agree,” Drystan said, “that neither my brother nor the Dragon’s Gift will be harmed in any way, and that your king will keep them in his castle as guests, not prisoners.”

“But of course,” the duchess said. “We are not barbarians like you. Your family will be treated like royalty during their stay. I’ll even sign an agreement stating such.”

“When will the prisoners be released?” Lucyan demanded. “Are we merely to take your word that they will be allowed to return home?”

“They will be set free as soon as we cross over into Elvenhame’s border and will be allowed to return unmolested. The two of you had best pack your bags,” she said to Dareena, her lips curving into a devious smile, “and you may want to make your goodbyes to your husband. You may not be seeing him again for a good, long while.”





3





Once the agreement was signed, Dareena and Alistair were whisked off to their rooms to pack. They were only allowed to bring a single trunk each, so Dareena had to be choosy about what she selected to take on the journey.

“I wish they allowed us to bring weapons,” she said to Rona as her maid packed her underthings into her wooden trunk. Dareena was perched on the edge of her bed, tracing the hilt of her jade dagger, which she’d worn faithfully on her thigh ever since Drystan had given it to her. She remembered that day quite clearly, when he’d slid her skirts up to show her how to strap the holster on, and Dareena had thought she would combust from his sensual fingers on her bare skin.

Gods, how would she get through this? She’d lived her whole life without the prospect of a desirable mate, but now that she had three, she couldn’t bear the idea of being parted from any of them. Drystan’s fierce, protective embrace…Lucyan’s saucy smiles and laugh-out-loud jokes…she would miss them terribly.

At least I’ll have Alistair with me, she thought, and was incredibly grateful for that. Her noble soldier with his heart of gold would hold her through the long nights ahead.

“Even if you did pack it, they would likely take it away when they searched your bag,” Rona said ruefully. “Best to leave it so it will be here safe and sound when you come back.” Her voice wobbled a little, and Dareena knew Rona was wondering if she would come back.

“Don’t worry about me, Rona.” She pushed herself off the bed and embraced her maid. “I will be perfectly fine. The duchess gave her word that I wouldn’t be harmed.”

“That’s all well and good,” Rona sniffed, pulling away, “but the duchess isn’t the king, is she?”

Dareena bit her lip. The thought had crossed her mind, but as the duchess was an envoy, she represented the king. Her word was as good as if the king himself had come, and she had signed an agreement…