Cole

The king's sunken eyes trained on me as I filled him in on what happened with Sabine. For someone bonded to a dragon, he was young. Somehow, age still seemed to be winning an unseen battle with him.

"This slave girl of yours, why would she be attacked, twice?" He set his elbow on the throne arm and rested his wrinkled cheek on his palm.

"I don't believe she was the target."

Beside me, Wyatt tensed. I slid my eyes toward him. He kept his head bowed but his mouth twitched.

"She's my personal attendant and I think it is more likely that she was targeted as a way to get to me," I elaborated.

"Then you think it is Stivalia?" King Talis held a hand out to me. He blinked several times, his eyelids remaining closed for too long.

"Yes. They were Stivalian mages and their ringleader was someone high-ranked. A noble."

My father sighed heavily and nodded. His eyes flashed suddenly and he rose from his throne, all traces of fatigue gone.

Of course, it was the pitiful old man act.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Why did I let myself fall for that? I sought out Amonette. She slumbered across the throne room, snoring softly. Or she pretended to. My momentary lapse was her doing. Just a moment with my guard down and she wormed her way in for my father.

"This is why we should be more proactive in our efforts against Stivalia," my father insisted. He swiped his arm through the air. "They are targeting you, heir to the throne. That is dangerous since you've yet to continue the bloodline yourself!"

I rubbed my temple. How did he get from a war on Stivalia back to the conversation about me finding a wife? He transitioned from talking of death and war to marriage and life too easily.

"It's under control, father." I ground my teeth together. "I've already sent warnings to King Verill. His response will determine how I proceed."

"Very well." The king flicked his wrist toward the throne room door.

The moment the heavy doors closed behind us, Wyatt grabbed my arm.

"You lied to him."

I arched an eyebrow. "Did I?"

"By omission, yes." He nodded, his shoulder-length hair brushing his face. I rarely saw Wyatt out of his armor. He had some leave from the battlefields and had easily settled into casual dress.

I glanced at the nearby guards and started walking. Wyatt kept pace with me.

"More than that, you promised me you'd free her." He lowered his voice.

"Would that I could." I kept my words short and curt.

"What aren't you telling me?" Wyatt stopped in the middle of the courtyard between the throne room and my wing. He crossed his arms and glared at me from under wispy bangs.

"I'm not keeping her out of choice. This has gone far beyond that."

"Then why?" His scrutinizing gaze was all it took.

"When I faced off with the woman who took Sabine, she almost had me. It was raw power I've never come up against before and if Talon weren't there to back me up, she would have overpowered me."

"That means she is a high-ranking member of the Stivalian court. And you did have a dragon, so you were fine."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not looking for validation, here, Wyatt. And I think she was higher than Stivalian court. I think she was Stivalian royalty."

Wyatt's arms fell to his sides and his scowl eased. "That's... unexpected. So, she really was after you."

"No." I shook my head. "While Sabine was recovering, she told me that the woman who captured her was weak."

"Weak?"

"Her exact words were, 'Weak compared to me.' How many mages in Telasia do you know that can overpower me or my father?"

"Perhaps a royal mage or two... oh."

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"You get it now. What would King Talis do if he found out about a supremely powerful mage right under his nose? A slave no less?"

Wyatt stayed silent. I began the traverse across the courtyard. Guards stood watch at the entrances and exits. Several court members strolled around, catching the afternoon air.

I avoided eye contact with all of them. Most of them knew by now not to approach me but I noticed a few of the ladies waving to Wyatt and concealing their giggles behind paper fans.

They were really off the mark.

"It makes sense, in a twisted way." Wyatt broke the silence and caught up to me.

"What does?"

"That Stivalia would be after your slave."

"Sabine."

"What?"

"Her name, Wyatt. Use her name. I know how you like to give slaves their dignity."

"Sabine, then." He nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching. "It makes sense that Stivalia would be after Sabine. With power like that, they'd see her as an asset to their carefully bred bloodlines."

"The thought crossed my mind. I doubt the Stivalia royal family would elevate a slave to a noble to acquire her magical lineage for their gene pool."

"I imagine that's true. I've heard rumors that they kill non-nobles born with magic."

"They aren't rumors," I hissed.

Wyatt grunted. "Well, then, they'd be more likely to kill Sabine than see her as an asset."

I nodded. "Except with power that could rival their royal family... perhaps it changes the landscape."

"How could a mage of her caliber exist without anyone in Stivalia or Telasia being aware? Aren't all magical slaves tested for their potential?"

I glanced sideways at my general. "All those in the capital. She wasn't born a slave and the man who enslaved her lived well outside the law. He never knew what he had, otherwise he wouldn't have auctioned her off so readily."

Wyatt wrinkled his nose. He tucked one hand into his back pocket. "If she is as powerful as all that, Stivalia will come for her again. Keeping her in the palace is dangerous for her and for you."

"I can handle myself."

"Cole."

I slowed to a stop and turned to face him. Wyatt never addressed me informally unless we were alone. I glanced at the nobles around us.

He bowed his head. "Apologies, Sire."

"Just say what you want to say," I scoffed.

"The fastest solution would be to free Sabine and relocate her to one of the free villages I've established outside the capital. She'd be away from your father and hidden from Stivalia."

"Even if that were true, it isn't possible."

Wyatt's face fell.

I didn't want to have this conversation in the courtyard. The palace was full of enough gossip. I picked up my pace. Wyatt's hurried steps followed close behind.

When we were in the safety of my wing, I turned to him again. "Stivalia tracked her down twice already. What kind of protection could a village of freed slaves offer?"

"From the sounds of it, she would be the one doing the protecting."

I chuckled. "Probably. But do you really want a target on them? I've made sure to keep my father's focus elsewhere while you've embarked on your crusade. But if rumors of magic work their way back to the palace, that won't last long."

"I think you're trying to tell me that you're concerned about the safety of the people I've freed."

"Maybe. Putting a target like Sabine there wouldn't be a long-term solution and it could endanger any village she goes to. Besides, we'd never get her out of the palace without my father knowing."

Wyatt scratched his eyebrow. "How's that? I doubt he'll miss a slave girl."

"Her former master is dead. He's the one that put the collar on her."

Wyatt groaned and tilted his head to the ceiling.

"I'd have to have the royal mages break the magic on her collar. If I do that, the king will want to know why and you know the rest of the story."

"There has to be another way. From what little you've told me, she's been through enough. No one should be enslaved. Least of all someone..."

"Someone... care to finish that?" I quirked my eyebrow.

"You and I both know how stifling those collars are for mages. I can't imagine how hollow it must be..." Wyatt rubbed his chest over his heart.

"Right now, being a slave under my care is the safest place for her."

"Are you really concerned about her?"

"I'm concerned about what will become of her, for the sake of this family and kingdom."

"Of course, Sire."

"Go and enjoy the rest of your leave. If that's possible. We'll reconvene before you head back to the frontlines."

"I will enjoy it." Wyatt's tongue darted across his lips.

My quarters were recently cleaned when I got back but Sabine wasn't there. The sun was low on the horizon outside, painting the skies orange and purple.

You are concerned about her, Talon intruded.

I sat on the edge of my bed and unlaced my boots. The cord to call Sabine hung over my headboard. I glanced at the pull string and back at my boots. Sighing, I plucked at the laces.

She tried to hide it but I'd seen her limping around.

I'm concerned about what she will be used for.

If you freed her, like the warrior suggested, she couldn't be used.

But she'd still be a target.

When the princess told you Sabine was kidnapped, you were mad.

I was. I agreed. I don't like when people touch my things.

Talon's low, rumbling laughter echoed through my walls. I caught a glimpse of his red, horn-rimmed eye through my bedroom window.

What Talon didn't say was that there was a moment, however brief, that I was more concerned for her wellbeing than angered by whoever crossed me.

She hadn't divulged the torture she'd been put through, but while she was unconscious, I could see the toll it had taken, even if the healers couldn't. I never thought seeing a slave look so fragile would be unsettling.

Sabine projected far more strength than I realized, until that moment.

I thought of her lying on the bed as the healer inspected the red, puckered wounds on her wrists and ankles. When I cut her bindings, the ropes were burrowed into her skin. She screamed when I removed them.

My mind wandered through the events of that day; the fire and determination on her face as she talked about her attacker, the strength of her magic as she healed herself. Strength she hadn't displayed in the times I'd released her collar. The soft curves of her torso and breasts.

"Ugh." I dropped my head into my hands.

It would take a lesser man than me to deny she was attractive, and getting more so. Palace life suited her.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook those thoughts away. Attractive or not, she was a slave and I couldn't think of her like that.

Maybe my father was right about needing companionship. It had been a while since I dismissed Dulcey. It was probably time to replace her.