Fear of Fire and Shadow (The Fade #1) - Samantha Young Page 0,22

told them of the palace and when Mrs. Dena grew excited at the mention of the royal marketplace, I described the different items that could be found there.

Mrs. Dena opened her mouth to respond to my descriptions, but her son spoke first.

“By gee …” Leon’s dark eyes fixated on me.

My fork hovered halfway to my mouth, my eyes wide with surprise at the insolent expression of desire on his face. The boy looked as if he was picturing me naked. I flushed harder.

“You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. And that’s including Shera. Shera’s the fairest girl in Woodmill, but she isn’t as pretty as you.”

Jac Senior began to reprimand, “Leon, don’t—”

Jac Junior’s slap across Leon’s head cut him off. “Don’t be speaking to royalty like that, Leon. And don’t be speaking about Shera at all. I told you to stay away from my girl.”

“She’s not your girl,” Leon hissed, purpling with anger.

I unconsciously slid toward the lieutenant as the boys’ argument grew more heated. Neither listened to their parents’ demands to cease embarrassing them. I flinched as the discussion became aggressive in light of some personal revelations.

“What do you mean you kissed her?” Jac Junior dove at his brother, and the two crashed to the floor, chairs and all.

As fists met flesh, images of Kir on the muddy ground, a giant soldier towering over him in the dark, pierced my mind. I stumbled from the table and the fight, my skin prickling unpleasantly. Lieutenant Chaeron strode across the room, pushed Jac Senior out of his way, and hauled Leon off Jac Junior. He shoved the boy aside and stood between them as the eldest son jumped to his feet. He moved to lunge at his brother and Chaeron pushed him back.

“Enough!” The lieutenant bellowed before he turned to glare at Jac Dena. “What manner of behavior is this in front of Lady Rogan? If these boys ever hope to become men, I suggest you teach them some discipline.”

Jac’s face was bloodred with humiliation. “I apologize, Lieutenant. I’ve never been so ashamed in my life.” He grabbed his sons, growling as he pushed them out of the room and into the back of the home. I looked at Mrs. Dena who looked so confused and alarmed by her sons’ behavior that realization hit me with sudden dread.

Silent communication passed between me and Chaeron.

This was it.

The Dyzvati magic was failing in Sabithia.

People who were inclined toward temper would no longer be affected and soothed by Haydyn’s evocation. They would react as they would do naturally, the heat of anger no longer tamed by my friend and her magic. It never even crossed my mind that it might be natural for brothers, close in age, to fight so. To Phaedrians under the Dyzvati spell for so long, natural was to curb any instincts that may disrupt the peace, despite any inward feelings of anger, passion, or violence.

That night, Chaeron insisted upon sleeping on a pallet in the room the Denas offered me.

I didn’t question it.

His presence was reassuring.

Chapter 8

Wolfe was visibly concerned when Chaeron told him what happened as we readied to leave the next morning. He glanced around to make sure none of the men were listening and then looked at me. “Are you all right?” he asked, brows furrowed with anger.

I retreated from his penetrating stare, perturbed by what I sensed was worry.

For me.

Yet that couldn’t be.

Wolfe stared at me a moment too long, and I realized his concern was not for me but for the kingdom. For a brief second, I wanted to reassure him.

But then I remembered who he was and turned from him to mount Midnight.

It rained in Raphizya.

Not light, showery rain to ease our hot skin but hard, pelting rain that pummeled in large drops as if punishing us with its fury at having been dominated by the sun for too long. My cloak stuck to my dress like a second skin, making movement on the horse difficult. Not to mention I had to keep pulling my cloak closed because my muslin dress left little to the imagination, plastered as it was to my body.

We stopped at an inn that night and I stood naked by the fire for so long, the backs of my legs turned blotchy and red. I didn’t care. I was blissfully warm.

The next day the sun returned, not so hot as before, and we gathered together for a milder, more comfortable journey. I winced as a chorus of sneezing sounded