The Dawn Star Read Free Page A

asked.
    Mel kept pacing, agitated and unsettled. “His emotions aren’t simple. More than anything, he is cautious.”
    â€œAbout me?”
    â€œYes. He has bad news, I think.” She came over to him. “But his wariness of you goes deeper than that.”
    Cobalt grimaced. “Everyone feels that way about me.”
    She took his hand and pressed her lips against his knuckles. “You condemn yourself for the sins others committed against you.”
    He watched her, as bewildered today as on the first day he had met her. She married him to stop a war. After Cobalt freed his father from prison, Varqelle began to raise an army so he could invade Harsdown and reclaim his throne. Desperate to stop the invasion, Mel had agreed to wed Cobalt and bring the throne back into his line. She ought to hate him. Yet she treated him with a softness no one had ever given him before, and she never broke, never splintered, never shrank away. He didn’t understand why she loved him, but he never wanted her to stop.
    â€œI will remember your warning,” he said.
    â€œAre you all right?” she asked.
    â€œYes.” Idiot, he told himself. You can do better for her. He tried to smile. It pulled the muscles of his face in ways that felt strange but had become more natural this year. He could think of nothing to say, though, that wouldn’t sound foolish. After a moment of trying to smile, he gave up.
    Mel laughed tenderly and touched his cheek. “You have a dimple, you know.”
    He stared at her, aghast. “Warriors do not have dimples.”
    â€œI’m sure not.” She took his arm. “We should go meet our guest. He must be done freshening up.”
    In Cobalt’s experience, men didn’t “freshen up.” Still, Agate was probably making himself more presentable.
    â€œVery well,” he said. “Let us see what he has to say.”

    Braces covered in gold leaf supported the arched ceiling in the Ivory Room, and mother-of-pearl filigree gleamed on the walls. The pale furniture was upholstered in ivory and gold. Cobalt, Mel and Agate sat in armchairs by graceful tables where they could place their goblets. The beauty of the room only increased Mel’s disquiet, for none of this belonged to them. They had stolen it from Prince Zerod. She had never wanted to conquer Shazire. Even though she knew this land had once been part of the Misted Cliffs, the war lay heavily on her conscience. She dealt with it by being the best leader she knew how to be, but it didn’t lighten the weight.
    Mel spoke to Agate with courtesy. “Is the vintage to your liking, General?”
    He sipped his wine. “It speaks well of your wineries.”
    Cobalt downed his wine in one swallow and clunked the goblet on the table. “So.” His deep voice jarred with the genteel room. “How is my grandfather?”
    Agate spoke carefully. “I bring you news, sire.”
    â€œWhat?” Cobalt asked.
    Mel inwardly groaned. If Cobalt couldn’t learn more tact, he would antagonize even his allies.
    â€œI have news of your grandfather,” Agate said. “He is ill, Your Majesty.”
    Cobalt visibly stiffened. “What happened?”
    â€œHis doctors say a blood vessel burst in his brain.”
    Cobalt stared at him in shock, an emotion he almost never revealed. His lapse lasted only a moment; then his mask of impassivity snapped back into place.
    â€œIs he alive?” Cobalt asked.
    Agate took a deep breath. “He survived. But his left side is paralyzed. We don’t know if he will recover.”
    Cobalt fell silent. Mel knew he hated his grandfather, and yet, he had also craved Stonebreaker’s approval his entire life. The conflicts of his tormented relationship with the king had left deep wounds. He was recovering here, but she had no idea what it would do to him if Stonebreaker died. Would he grieve or rejoice—or hate himself for