Page 85 of Heart of Shadows
“Filth, sire?”
“Th–That treason!” The king could barely utter words in his wrath.
“It’s on your business, sire. She’s with me.” Relief stuttered in Harper as he stepped squarely in front of her, shielding her with the bulk of his body.
“Explain now, before I have you both executed.”
“What’s going to happen?” Harper asked Dimitrius desperately.
“I do not know,” he replied, a bite of worry in his own voice.
A cold fear spread through her stomach.
63
DIMITRI
Rage lined every cold edge in Toroth’s face, his dark eyes, his thunderous brows. “Must I damn you for being incompetent or a traitor?”
Dimitri knew Toroth longed to punish him. Regardless of Harper’s fate, he had to save himself first. He sketched a bow to the king. “Sire, I apologise for my duplicity. I did keep something from you.”
Toroth ceased his pacing and fixed Dimitri in a piercing glare.
“The symbol means little—nothing even—to the girl. I asked her to wear it.” Toroth had utterly stilled. Inwardly, Dimitri smiled to himself. He worries I am a traitor. Ha. How little he knows. “There are murmurings in the south. Ones I wish to keep a close eye on, for they portend possible rebellion. I was readying the girl to go to them.”
“What rebellion?” Toroth said sharply. “Who?”
Dimitri inclined his head. “Forgive me, but it is just murmurings that have only reached my ears in snatches and shreds. That is what I wish to determine, and the girl will find the truth for me.”
“Why does she carry Saradon’s Mark?” Toroth advanced, full of menace.
“To aid me. I suspect they are sympathisers to his cause. I need her to gain their trust—be one of them—in order to break into their circle. If my suspicions prove true, I shall draw them out. We are just now working on her story and details of the task at hand. It will be dangerous for her, but she is well up to the task, given her success with recovering the Dragonheart.”
Toroth paced back and forth, mulling over Dimitri’s words. “And you are sure—beyond certainty—that she is loyal and no sympathizer of Saradon herself?”
“Yes. She is a foreigner. Our history means nothing to her.” For goodness sake, you paranoid, batty old dragon, let it be.
“I would like to be certain. Mayhap I will have my own men question her on this.”
Fear spiked in Dimitri. “That will be unecessary, sire,” he said smoothly. “If anything, I would beseech you to grant her immediate release so I may task her at once on this mission of utmost importance.”
It was precisely the wrong thing to say. “Do you think you know better than I, bastard?”
“No, sire.” Dimitri bowed low to conceal his rage before he fought it under control.
“Because you do not,” said Toroth, as if he had entirely ignored Dimitri’s reply. He launched into a tirade of his ultimate authority and Dimitri’s worthlessness, but Dimitri had heard it a thousand times before. He schooled his face into blankness and ignored the king, wondering how on earth he could secure Harper’s freedom—if only to save implicating himself. A spark of an idea hit him. Perhaps he had missed something entirely obvious. As long as Harper was free of Tournai, she could not implicate him in anything, and he had one way to ensure she would be far from there and never return. His safety hinged on her… Who else could I ask to rescue her but the grand escapee himself?
Dimitri hid a smile as he realised just how he might reach all his goals in one fell swoop. The Dragonheart would be his once more. Harper would be safe and so far away she could not implicate him. And Toroth would soon see just how much he ought to fear the name of Saradon. When the pair of them were eventually released, once Toroth’s rage had burned low, and the spymaster’s assurances had sunk in, Dimitri spirited them away to his quarters at once.
When they arrived, she was shaking. “It’s going to be all right, I promise.” Dimitri didn’t know why he was compelled to utter such foolish words to her, but the sight of her in such a state distressed him. He flexed his hands at his side, holding them ramrod straight to avoid reaching out to comfort her.
“I need to attend some business, but I will return for you as soon as I may,” Dimitri said. “I have work to do if I am to see us through this safely. Have courage, and patience.”
“How long am I to remain here?” she asked, a gleam of desperation in her eyes. But he had no answer.
“I will come soon,” he promised again, though he did not know how on earth he would save himself, let alone her. With more regret than he thought he’d feel for a nobody like her, he left without another word, closing the door behind him.
I pity her, he realised. A part of him felt bound to protect her, despite the danger she posed to him. She was a victim of injustice, like him and so many others. And yet, despite a hard life, she had not given up her spark of defiance and hope for better, for more. She was precisely the kind of person the changes he would bring would ultimately protect, one way or another.