LITMIR.BIZ

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old floor. “Swarms of wyverns with a giant mother-ass viper in charge--sounds like suicide to me.”

      Danika gasped in enough breath to recover a partial amount of her wits. “Our soldiers are not equipped to handle such fire. No armor can withstand such an onslaught.”

      “Pa’s armor can.” Nip’s boyish voice resonated in the great dome.

      Danika stared at him open-mouthed.

      Nip stood, looking both proud and sad. “He was pounding a leg shin when the wyverns came.”

      “The breastplate.” Danika nodded. “You wore a piece of armor when I first found you.”

      Nip swallowed hard. “I wanted Pa to wear it. I told him to, but he placed the breastplate over my head. As I tried to wiggle free, a puff of smoke pushed me backward into the wall. Ma screamed, then the roof came crashing in and everything became so hot, I feared my skin would melt.”

      Nip slumped down and Danika reached for him, pulling him against her. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

      “And it seems your father has found the answer.” Troubadir bent down to meet the child’s eyes.

      “Where did he get the metal? How did he forge it?”

      Shivering, the boy hid his face in Danika’s skirts.

      “Don’t pester him,” she snapped. “He’s lost so much.”

      Valorian stepped in, putting a hand on her arm. “My apologies, Princess, but we must know, and we don’t have much time.”

      An entire kingdom rested on the memories of a soot-streaked boy. Danika nodded, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek. She pulled Nip away and knelt in front of him, holding his shoulders in both hands. “Where did your father get the metal? Tell me his secret.”

      Nip’s eyes shone bright with fear. He shook his head.

      “Please, Nip. We need the answer now more than ever.”

      He whimpered. “Deep down in tunnels. The albinos traded the metal for rice.”

      “Darkenbite.” Bron hissed under his breath and spat on the floor. “A damned and foul place.”

      “Do you think they have more of it?” Danika smoothed over his hair, ignoring Bron. “Do you think they’ll still trade?”

      Nip nodded, curls bobbing above his eyes.

      “That settles it.” Danika rose from the floor and met Troubadir’s anxious gaze. “We’ll need all the rice you can muster. We’re traveling to Darkenbite at dawn’s break to retrieve more of that precious metal. I’ll employ every blacksmith in Ebonvale to pound it into armor. Once we’re equipped, I’ll send word to your minstrels. Together, we’ll ride out over the Sea of Urchins and battle this untamed She-Beast with the greatest army ever to sail the fourteen seas.”

      She extended her hand to the king, hoping an army would be sufficient, hoping he didn’t push for her hand to Valorian as well. “Deal?”

      Troubadir raised his head, his thin nose pointing up.

      Danika refused to allow herself a glance at Valorian. Who knew the kinds of thoughts smoldering in his head?

      “You have yourself a bargain, Princess.”

      “Good. Please take us to your guest chambers. Nip is tired, and Bron needs his rest if he’s to drive the carriage in the morning.”

      “Negotiations such as these can make anyone tired. Valorian, guide these kind people to their quarters.”

      “Most certainly, Father.” Valorian gestured to the entranceway. “Follow me.”

      Danika reached for Nip’s hand but he shrugged her away. She’d have to accept Valorian’s arm instead. Slipping her fingers around his wrist, she allowed him to lead her into the night. Bron grumbled under his breath behind her as he and Nip followed. Danika resisted the urge to turn around and give him a look.

      Did Darkenbite frustrate him? Or did he find Valorian’s affections annoying?

      Surely, he thought of Darkenbite. How could the Chief of Arms, appointed as her bodyguard by her father before his death, harbor feelings toward a princess? Seven years her elder and five ranks below her, he had as much of a chance as a prisoner in their dungeon cells. Remember that.

      Danika breathed in slowly to calm herself. Long journeys such as these blurred the ranks, but they’d return to Ebonvale soon enough. Her throne and all the expectations along with it awaited her.

      Valorian brought them to a pair of bluewood cottages set apart from the village, resting in a moonlit glade behind the domed House of Song. “The one on the right is for your counterparts. This one, over here is for you.”

      True to his position, Danika’s bodyguard didn’t budge. His dark shadow at her shoulder reassured her.

      “Very well, then.” Valorian slipped her hand into his and brought her fingers to his lips. His kiss fell soft on her skin. “Tomorrow then, Princess.” He bowed to Bron and Nip. “Warrior, and son.”

      Valorian disappeared into the shadows while a lone flute trilled on the wind.

      Bron bowed to Danika and turned to leave. “Come on, little dragon slayer. Best we get some rest.”

      The night seemed unfinished, like she’d struck a dissonant chord with no resolution. A sudden longing to speak with Bron came over her, as if the answering note lay with him. “Bron, wait.”

      He raised an eyebrow and gestured for Nip to go in without him. The boy scurried to the front porch and slipped in the door. Bron returned his attention to her.

      “Yes, Princess?”

      “Watch over the boy for me. I do not trust these minstrels. They could have something stuck up their velvety sleeves.”

      Bron grinned as though amused. “I was beginning to think you didn’t need me anymore.”

      His words hit a chord in her heart and it vibrated along with the distant hum of song. Danika touched his arm and his skin burned hot under her fingertips. “I’ll always need you.”

      They stood frozen while a musical phrase swelled and cadenced behind them. She’d said too much and not enough all at once and her emotions ran unbidden as if Troubadir had slipped wine into her tea. Bron’s eyes shone dark with mystery, making her heart beat faster.

      “Evening, Princess. We have quite a day ahead of us, and the night’s running its course.”

      “Goodnight.” Danika pulled away, embarrassed. She’d guessed wrong. Protection was not love. He was an exceptional bodyguard at most. Biting her lip, she strode to her cottage. Honestly, the more time she spent outside the castle walls, the less princess-like she became. Once this quest came to an end, she’d have to find an appropriate suitor, and Valorian ranked highest on the list.

      Cursing her strange emotions, Danika opened her cottage door. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting Bron to have disappeared inside. He stood underneath the moss-draped gable, watching her in return.

      Chapter 3

      Wyvern’s Breath

      Bron guarded Danika’s retreat to her cottage, her skirts kissing the blades of grass with each delicate step. Her elegance in awkward situations always impressed him, and she’d handled herself like a queen in the negotiations. Her father would have been proud, and Bron was proud as well. She’d grown into a regal woman with a flair for battle and a spitfire tongue. If only his feelings ended with thoughts of protection and pride.

      Danika paused on the gabled porch and turned toward him, as if she heard his secrets on the wind. Her meadow-green gaze brought goosebumps to his skin. A sheer vulnerability weakened him until his legs felt like porridge. He was a veteran warrior, for Horred’s

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