to buy planets. While I appreciate
the queen’s generosity, I cannot
take it.”
“It’s not from the queen.” The
High Lord smiled and his
expression softened to one of
pleasure. “I gave it as a gift to
Doral. Since he is going nowhere
for many months, he wants you to
have it. He says you suffer from
the cold more than most.” Ari
laughed at her expression. “The
things he notices amaze me, also.
If nothing else, consider it a gift of
thanks for your tender care of our
queen. She values your friendship.
Because of her position, it is hard
for her to have true friends. She
counts you among the few.”
Adonia dropped her gaze and
looked away uncertain what to do.
Ari snorted in mock irritation. “If
you won’t take it, you will have to
return it to Doral. I don’t dare tell
him I failed in his errand.” Ari
leaned over and whispered, “He’s a
scary man. I fear to cross him.”
Recognizing a blatant lie—Doral
might be a ‘scary man,’ but Ari
crossed him with impunity all the
time—Adonia addressed him with
skeptical eyes. Of their own
volition, her palms stroked the
silky fur and her fingers sank into
its thick pelt. In this garment, she
felt distinguished, like royalty, and
it would be so warm. Nothing she
owned approached it on any level.
With a heavy sigh, wishing she
weren’t so weak, she surrendered
to the temptation. “Thank Segundo
DeLorion for me. Tell him that I’ll
borrow it and return it when I
come back.”
The High Lord’s smile left his face
and he studied her in silence for a
long moment. “If you come back.
DeHelios needs a wife and from
the way he looks at you, I
shouldn’t be surprised if he intends
to keep you.”
Adonia’s eyes widened. “He is
highborn, a prince of the first noble
House of Verdantia. I’m an
everyday, ordinary Oshtesh woman
from the desert. He would never
consider me for a wife.”
The High Lord’s eyes lingered on
her. He wore the strangest smile on
his handsome face. “Do you really
regard yourself as commonplace?”
But before Adonia could summon
the courage to ask him what that
cryptic comment meant, he bowed,
wished her, “Safe journey,” and
left.
As she stroked the luxurious fur,
Adonia considered his remark.
She’d always taken comfort from
the thought she was a common
desert woman. She’d never
questioned the rightness of her way
of life with the Oshtesh until her
encounter with Doral’s sister,
Sophi, and her now-husband, Eric
DeStroia. After the cataclysmic
events surrounding the battle of
Vergaza, Adonia had realized
prejudice and ignorance warped
much of what she’d been taught
growing up.
The small religious sect her parents
belonged to had indoctrinated
Adonia with a scornful contempt
for the aristocracy but in a matter
of months following Vergaza,
she’d shed their influence and
opened her mind to a different way
of thinking. She’d been wrong
about many things. The realization
had hurt, but she’d swallowed her
pride, owned up to her prejudices
and set about changing how she
thought and behaved. Throughout
her internal upheaval, she ’d clung
to one certainty—Klaran cared for
her. She had a place. She was
Klaran’s betrothed, his future wife.
She had lost her entire family and
many of her sisters-in-arms to the
Haarb but she wasn’t alone in the
world. She would always have
Klaran.
It had taken Klaran mere moments
to obliterate her self-worth and
years later, she still bled from the
gaping wound. Klaran’s words had
done more than strip her of any
sense she was desirable. His
betrayal had obliterated her
identity, her confidence in where
she belonged in the world. When
he’d rejected her, nothing
remained of her previous life and
she’d no sense of her place in a
new one. Maybe she would know
where she belonged at the end of
this journey. Nyth Uchel’s healer?
Yes. She could take pride in being
Nyth Uchel’s healer.
Grab HERS TO CLAIM on
Amazon!