Home > Books > The Last Dragon King (Kings of Avalier #1)(33)

The Last Dragon King (Kings of Avalier #1)(33)

Author:Leia Stone

He waved me off. “It’s fine. I just miss her. She was my best friend.”

“How long had you known her before you got married?” I asked, wondering if asking these questions was okay.

He swallowed hard. “It’s not a well-known thing, so please keep this private, but Amelia and I were betrothed at birth by our parents.”

I gasped. “Betrothed at birth? You always knew you were going to marry her?”

He nodded. “Always.”

An arranged marriage. They were more common with the fae than here but they did happen. Still, I wasn’t sure how I would feel knowing my whole life had been mapped out for me. He’d called her his best friend, but did that mean that’s all they were? Or was there a romantic love too? My tongue burned with unasked questions that I forced myself to swallow down.

“So when did you start hunting?” He changed the subject and I was grateful.

I swallowed hard, the lump of crab falling into my stomach like a stone. “After my father died. I was nine.”

His hand stilled. “The men in your village didn’t help out your family? I thought the Cinder community was close?”

I nodded. “We are. They helped as long as they could, but with my little sister there are three mouths to feed, and my mom didn’t want to remarry just for food. So I took on the responsibility. Kept us fed.”

His hand reached out, draping over mine, and heat pooled in my belly as I looked up into his sincere green eyes. “That’s incredibly admirable of you, Arwen.”

It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. His hand on mine caused my chest to heave. He must have realized the effect his touch had on me, because he yanked it back a second later.

“So have you been feeling well? No more fevers?” He changed the subject again. He seemed to be an expert at that.

I picked at my dinner roll, no longer trusting my body to stick with the plan.

What was the plan? Oh yeah, don’t fall for the king! He didn’t want love, he wanted my magical womb, and might kill me if he found out who my birth mother was. Yet I couldn’t help but admit I’d judged him wrong. He was not what I thought. “Nope. All good.”

“Did you know you had a spell on you to keep your powers hidden?” he asked nonchalantly, but I saw his body stiffen. He didn’t fully trust me, and he could smell a lie, so I had to be careful.

I shook my head. “I had nothing to do with any spell put on me.” It was the truth, but didn’t fully answer his question.

He seemed pleased with that answer. “I’ll need to teach you to control your powers as they fully come forward. You don’t want to get angry and breathe fire all over someone.”

My eyes widened. “You think I can breathe fire?” I was genuinely shocked to think of being capable of such a thing.

He shrugged. “It’s possible. Over the next few days I’ll have you work with myself or Regina to see.”

I shrank into myself, suddenly uncomfortable with him trying to get me to display my power. “I… don’t know how I feel about that. I’ve never displayed dragon magic before.”

He waved me off. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Relief rushed through me and we settled into an easy conversation. What my biggest animal kill was, what his was, our favorite weapon.

“I’m a fan of the bow.” I tipped my head outside to where he had been practicing.

“I prefer a spear,” he said, finishing his last bite of crab.

He followed my gaze to the archery set-up outside. “Do you want to have a go?”

I stood eagerly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He shook his head with a smile, and then indicated I follow him outside. Once we were on the lawn, he handed me a medium sized bow. I recognized the elven gold immediately.

“Gift from the elf king when I was a teenager,” he told me. “It should be about your size.”

I lowered the bow and reached out to hand it back to him. “I shouldn’t use such a special gift.”

He waved me off. “It fits you,” was all he said before he took a larger bow of his own.

I let my fingers trail the smooth alder wood, running my fingertips over the filigree engraving on the gold. Plucking an arrow from the basket, I set the notch into the string and pulled it a few times to test the tightness and get a feel for the weapon.

I could feel the king watching me as I raised the bow up and locked my elbow, drawing the string back. I lined it up with the center dot on the wooden target and took in a deep breath. I readjusted my aim and then held my breath, releasing the arrow.

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