Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) by E.E. Everly (motivational books for men txt) 📕

“I’m still embarrassed over our meeting. I don’t normally cry in front of others outside my family.” Kelyn forced a mock scowl.

I giggled. “Are you sensitive, Your Highness?”

“Highly. Normally I run from the room and cry on my pillow.”

I snorted, pleased the prince was joking about his former awkwardness. “You wouldn’t fit in where I’m from.”

“Oh? How so?” Kelyn whirled me past Owein, who, I was glad to see, had listened to my plea on behalf of the forlorn maiden.

“My people are proud to a fault,” I said.

“Pride never leads to peace.”

I quirked my eyebrows. “Is this speaking from experience, Your Highness?”

Kelyn was gleaning from our conversation over dinner. I had described Gorlassar to him at length. I figured the lay of the land and the cities’ descriptions were safe. I neglected to explain anything about dragons, who roamed freely there.

“Some yes,” he said. “Some more of an observation. Why are you here? Why’d you leave Gorlassar if it’s such a perfect place?”

“I didn’t say Gorlassar was perfect.”

“You said your people claim to be pure and light-filled.”

I’d told him we heal with the light inside us. I had to. He wanted to know how I healed his mother. I didn’t give him specifics. “We are pure in the sense that we have no darkness. We carry faults though.”

“As I can well see.”

I stopped, and a dancer slammed into me, forcing me into Kelyn’s arms. “Your Highness!” He smelled of cinnamon and cypress, and I was almost lost in the intoxicating aroma. “You presume—”

Kelyn whisked me back into proper, steady steps after excusing the couple begging his pardon. “Doesn’t the blush of your delicate cheeks and the tension in the graceful curve of your neck betray your ill temper? When you’re heated or impassioned or worried, every sign is revealed in your posture, your step, your intonation. You hide behind sharp words.”

“I don’t—”

“When I met you, I was amazed by your flattering language or, rather, quick comeback to my stammering words. I didn’t hide my stumble or conceal the fact I was blubbering. But you, what were you hiding?”

“I… I…” I was mortified I’d witnessed such a tender exchange between him and his mother. I disliked being privy to soft emotion. I hated watching it; I hated feeling it. I hated how the emrys felt every single one of each other’s unguarded feelings. Everything was on display. Nothing was private. Not my feelings. Not Aneirin’s feelings. Not my mother’s feelings and certainly not my rigid father’s feelings. I had every pure emotion flung in my face since birth, and I was sick of it!

Kelyn scanned my face. “Ah. You have no words for what you were feeling.”

My chest was heaving. I pushed back the dam of threatening emotion. “Everything is just different where I’m from.”

“We mortals are not what you expected?”

I caught my breath as I caught his blue eyes. “No, you’re more.”

SEVENTEEN

Despite the late night, subjects rolled out of bed by high noon, and the palace bustled once again.

Sorfrona and I took a late breakfast on the veranda, accompanied by Tiwlip. The boys played on the lawn. Kelyn and Kenrik were teaching Brenin how to play some game where they hit a ball through obstacles for points. Kelyn guided Brenin’s tiny hand around the mallet and tapped a hard ball through a wire hoop.

I had a sudden desire to learn this odd game as I watched Kelyn lean over the curly-topped lad. Kenrik twirled his mallet over his shoulder, relaxed, but keen on besting his older brother, even though Kelyn had the handicap of his four-year-old cousin.

“Just because I won the joust, doesn’t mean I’ll let you win at croquet.” Kenrik rubbed his angular jaw.

“I let you win the joust.” Kelyn whacked his ball. It rolled through the nearest two hoops. “Lady Adenydd wanted dinner with the champion. I was in no mood to comply. Besides, I know you like her.”

Kenrik caught my eye before answering Kelyn. His voice dropped, but I still heard his words, a benefit of emrys hearing—apparently more enhanced than the mortals’. “She’s easy on the eyes, but the heart can change.”

Kelyn snapped upright and followed Kenrik’s gaze. Observing my amusement, Kelyn bowed gallantly. “Will the lady join us?”

Sorfrona and Tiwlip ceased their quiet chatter about the banquet’s highlights. I arched my brows as I raised my voice to be heard across the lawn. “Perhaps another time, Your Highness.”

I turned back to my companions. Both ladies were a delight. Though Sorfrona was exhausted, she claimed she spent too many weeks abed and wanted to relish the autumn before she was shooed inside by gale-force winter winds.

“The highlands are a dream,” Sorfrona said. “I love this countryside. Living lakeside has its benefits and drawbacks though. Fair breezy at times.”

“The air is so woodsy.” Tiwlip sipped her tea. “I’m accustomed to sea breezes back home”—she clarified for my benefit—“in the lowlands. The evergreens fill the air with such vigor here.”

I crunched into a sweet roll, chewed hastily, and swallowed when I realized it was my turn to volunteer information about my homeland. “Gorlassar smells like dewy grass and honey and wildflowers.”

“Sounds splendid, my dear,” the queen said while buttering toast. “Will you return anytime soon? I enjoy your presence and would be sad to see you go.”

“I’m here for an extended visit.” I sipped my cider, hoping she wouldn’t press for the reason. I was waiting for an interlude to present Seren—an opening without saying, I have a, uh, big lizard, who breathes fire and could burn down a village if you get on her bad side. I’d like you to meet her.

I would never burn down a village, Seren