Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2) by Emma Hamm (best e ink reader for manga .txt) 📕

But the older she had gotten, the more she realized her childish fantasies were far from the truth. Letting go of that illusion was far more difficult than she could have ever imagined.

Landing hard on the rocks, she huffed out a breath and lowered her head so Camilla could dismount. They’d have to figure out a better way for them to travel together. Sigrid actually liked having someone who wasn’t an animal with her.

It helped ground her.

Shifting where she was, Sigrid reminded herself not to look up at the startled faces of the Earthen folk. At her hip was the golden mask they were used to, the one that so many Beastkin viewed as something terrible and bad.

It was a symbol of her responsibilities. A symbol of who she was, and what she had become. For the Beastkin, she shouldn’t wear it. But for the people here, the ones who had raised her, she would.

Sigrid affixed the golden mask to her face and sighed. It shouldn’t feel like a shield she’d put in place that no one could break through, but it did. Even now, after all she had fought for, and all she had won, she wanted to wear the mask just so that she could hide a little bit longer.

The Earthen folk were staring at her, but not because they could see her face. They likely hadn’t seen a Beastkin change before. That didn’t mean she needed to indulge in answering their questions or explain how it was possible.

They didn’t get to ask questions like that. They didn’t get to try and touch or tame her.

Footsteps rattled through the courtyard as armored boots raced down the stairs toward her.

“Ah, yes,” she muttered under her breath and straightened. “Hallmar’s personal guard still thinks I’m here to burn the whole place down.”

“Some things don’t change,” Camilla replied. A grin split her face with a bright happiness that Sigrid didn’t understand. How was it possible for her friend to feel so at ease here when so many ghosts roamed around them?

Hallmar strode behind his guards, impeccably dressed as always. He was a handsome man in his youth, and that had carried over as he aged like a fine wine. The stern look on his face was both intimidating and reassuring.

The emerald green of his velvet tunic was accented by golden threads embroidered in swirling patterns across the entirety of the jacket. A plain white shirt was open at the throat, revealing an amulet of blue quartz that eerily looked like ice. That was new. Or perhaps, he only wore it when he was welcoming important guests.

She wouldn’t know.

He lifted his arms in greeting and smiled at the two of them. “Ladies! Welcome home.”

And damned if she hadn’t been waiting for those words. Sigrid wanted to run into his arms as she would have as a child, feel the strength in them as they closed around her shoulders and pulled her against his broad chest.

He’d always made her feel so safe when he hugged her like that. As if he could take the weight of the world from her, all her worries and fears, and place them somewhere else as long as she was in his arms.

But Sigrid wasn’t a child anymore. She was a queen of her own kingdom, a rival kingdom at that, and she couldn’t break that vow to her people by welcoming him as an old friend.

She swallowed hard, touched a finger to the edge of her mask to make sure it was still in place and nodded. “Thank you for the welcome. I wasn’t expecting a messenger from you any time soon.”

“And I wasn’t expecting to have a war on my doorstep.” He let his arms drop to his sides, one hand at his hip. She remembered he used to hide a wicked, curved blade in his pant leg. Had he brought a weapon to speak with her? As if she would ever attack him? “But this is still your home, Sigrid. If you ever have need of it.”

Camilla cocked her hip out to the side, raised a hand, and said, “I’m standing right here.”

His booming laugh filled the courtyard like sunlight after a storm. “I have missed your humor, Camilla. You are always welcome as well.”

“I know.” She flicked the ends of her braids over one shoulder and winked at him. “I just wanted to hear you say it one more time.”

This was how it had been, before the king thought it would be better for Sigrid to be married. Before an arrow had silenced a good man forever. Before the world had changed and a dragon had awoken in her soul.

She was grateful for the mask, because Sigrid couldn’t have hidden her crestfallen expression if she tried. “Shall we?” she asked.

“Ah, yes,” Hallmar replied, sweeping his arm out for them to follow him into the castle. “A little privacy after such a long trip would be greatly appreciated, I’m sure. Come with me, ladies.”

Sigrid didn’t correct him that they were to be given more respectful names now. She didn’t know what the Beastkin wanted to be called. Matriarch would have been correct long ago, but now there was a council of Beastkin making decisions, and they tried to throw their weight around no matter what she wanted to do.

Sometimes, it felt as though her council fought with her just because she had voiced an opinion. Anything she wanted to do, they wanted to do the exact opposite. It was like dealing with children at times. And she hadn’t signed up to be a mother.

She followed Hallmar into the castle and breathed out a sigh. Relaxation flooded through her veins at finally being in a place that was more familiar to her than the back of her hand. She knew every hidden corridor, every guard’s favorite napping place, and every leaf that would fall through the windows from old trees that peaked