lead as well as the kings before me—or after Craven—even during these tough times. She would expect me to incite violence against the mer-king, for insulting her position.
Pressure building... “The queen is to cease all talks with the mers. If their king cannot give us his time, his people will get none of ours.” In this life, war would not always be my first response. “When he apologizes publicly, talks may resume.”
Adriel looked ready to protest, but he nodded and strode from the tent. What? He thought I should demand the mer-king’s head?
My gaze returned to Ashleigh, wondering what she believed. But she hadn’t paid any attention to the conversation; she was too busy staring at the food, her pupils dilated as she licked her lips. When was the last time she’d eaten?
I opened my mouth to tell her to eat, when the flap opened again. An avian entered, lugging a wooden tub. Two others followed, carting large buckets of water, which they dumped into the tub as soon as it was placed. What I wouldn’t give for the magical jug Roth and Farrah owned. Or maybe Everly had it now? It self-filled. With a single pour, I could overflow the tub again and again.
When the group left, I picked up my conversation with Ashleigh. “Eat your fill.” Before learning she’d outsourced her first chore, I’d planned to eat while she watched, then bathe as she wallowed in filth. I’d wondered how she would react. Like the Leonora of old, throwing a fit—and furniture—when she didn’t get her way? But, looking at her now, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The color had yet to return to Ashleigh’s cheeks, and the unnatural paleness illuminated every speck of dirt that smeared her skin.
Her emerald eyes brightened, and my chest clenched. “Truly?”
I gave a stiff nod.
As she reached for a piece of cheese, a little shaky, I had a mad urge to select the best one and feed it to her by hand. An intimate act meant for avian lovers. Something Craven had done for Leonora many, many times. I balled both hands into fists.
Her eyelids closed in surrender as she chewed, her expression rapturous. “I haven’t had cheese in so long.”
Tension stole over me, every muscle knotting. I popped a strawberry into my mouth. Chewed, swallowed. “You should make up your mind, Ashleigh.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you a timid mouse or a warrioress? I’ve seen hints of both.”
“Perhaps I’m your worst nightmare,” she muttered.
“That, I agree with. You carry four dragon eggs, over fifty designs for weapons and three books about coven histories.” And nothing else. “The designs are new, not something Leonora ever cared about in the past. The eggs, however, I understand. In both of her previous incarnations, she had a horde of winged-demons at her command. So, I’d like to hear your explanation for those, and how their possession proves you’re not Leonora.”
Frost glittered in her emerald irises, rousing my tension further. “You went through my bag?”
“Of course I did,” I told her silkily. “We are enemies, and I’m not a fool. What if you had a way to harm my people in there?”
She humphed. “I found the eggs, but I don’t know how. The designs are my own. Everyone deserves a chance to protect themselves from harm. The books are entertaining.”
She had designed those incredible pieces with hidden spikes and unique hooks? “Prove you did the designs. Draw one.”
All innocence, she batted her lashes at me. “I would certainly draw a new design for you...if the price were right. I charge in atonement coins. Shall I add you to my buyers list? You pay me now, and I could get to you in a year or so.”
She didn’t have a year. In three weeks, she would be imprisoned and bespelled.
“No?” She devoured another piece of cheese. “Well, one day,” she continued, her tone going dreamy, “I will have a list of buyers. I’ll train with a blacksmith and learn to bring my designs to life. You can have your proof then. Of course, I’ll be charging you double at that time.”
I did not want to admire her mettle.
I admired her mettle.
Resentful, I asked, “What do you know about dragons?”
“Not much, to be honest.” She swallowed a bite of bread. “Little is written about their history.”
“Because they always fade into obscurity soon after Leonora’s death, leaving future generations to wonder about them.” But I knew the truth. “Dragon mothers bury their eggs to allow their babies