Page 99 of The Dragon and the Dove

The name echoed back at her.

The shadow splintered, and from within a flock of ravens came.

Sera woke in her bed with a gasp.

Outside, dawn kissed the blushing sky.

Andreas was standing at her footboard.

‘It didn’t work,’ he said, his voice crisp with disapproval, as if they were in the middle of a conversation and Sera wasn’t furiously blinking sleep from her eyes. ‘Darius is displeased.’

‘Too bad.’ She sat up, deftly moving her fingers under her pillow behind her. They brushed the vial of mistbane.

Andreas was too enraged to notice. ‘I’ve made promises to my cousin, King Rafael. I’ve made assurances to Urnica.’

‘Sainthoods, you mean.’

His lip curled. ‘Bargains.’

A mirthless scoff. ‘What will he do when he realizes you lied through your teeth?’ Her hands worked under the covers. She unstoppered the vial and gathered the torn hem of her nightgown – a makeshift rag she had fashioned last night. ‘When he sees that you promised something that wasn’t yours to give?’ She could guess well enough by the stark look on his face. ‘I suppose he’ll take back all those fancy Strix you borrowed. And their riders.’

Fisting the iron bars of her footboard, he pitched forward. ‘I will have your co-operation or your head, Saint-maker.’

She pretended to consider this while covertly soaking the rag with the mistbane. ‘I doubt King Rafael would be appeased by my severed head. I suppose my hair is quite fine, though. Maybe he could braid it into a royal cushion.’

Spittle foamed at the edges of his mouth. ‘You will work for me or not at all. I will ask you only once. Are you prepared to use your divine power for the good of my court?’

Fisting the wet rag, Sera moved forward. ‘I’d rather die.’

‘Guards!’ He shrieked the command, and the Rose-bearers standing by the door jolted into action. ‘Take her head.’

They moved as one, stomping across the room. She steeled her courage, forced herself to wait.

Swords sang as they were unsheathed.

Andreas stood back, fuming.

They raised their blades.

She screamed, ‘WAIT!’

‘STOP!’ he commanded.

Their swords froze mid-strike.

‘Well?’ he growled.

‘I’ll do it,’ she cried, making her bottom lip tremble. ‘Please, Andreas. I don’t want to die.’

His smirk curled. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’

That thread in her chest jerked. Her eyes flew to the window. Morning had come, but the day was losing its lustre.

The sky is changing.

Be ready.

‘You will make Darius at once,’ said Andreas. ‘The prince is on his way here as we speak. To retrieve your head, or your blessing.’