Sharon Schulze - L'eau Clair Chronicles 03 Read Online Free

impassive demeanor.
    And try though he might, he hadn’t regained it in the hours since he’d left the elusive Lily locked behind this door.
    Taking a lantern from the hook beside the door, he removed the bar from its brackets and entered the cell.
    Lily sat up, shielding her eyes from the light. She leaned back against the damp stone wall and tried to ignore the way straw from the small heap She’d slept upon poked through her clothes. Although she knew she should stand—courtesy required it, not to mention the fact that she hated to have him tower over her—a night spent curled on the hard-packed dirt, after her midnight climb, had left her so stiff she could scarcely move.
    “Good morrow to you, Dragon,” she said, infusing her voice with the strength her body refused to supply.
    “Have you word from your master?”
    “I am Lord Ian ap Dafydd of Gwal Draig.” He closed the door behind him and hung the lantern from a peg in the rafters. Three steps brought him across the narrow cell to stand at her feet.
    “No one calls me Dragon—to my face.”
    Did he give her his full name—and the name of his home—a purpose, to show her own lack? Rage and hurt overcame Lily’s aches and brought her to her feet without pain. A glorious surge of power straightened her backbone and lifted her chin until she looked him in the eye.
    “I
    have never feared to be different, Lord Ian of Gwal Draig. I shall call you Dragon.” She brushed straw from her clothes with apparent unconcern.
    She expected him to do something..” anything. For reasons she’d rather not examine too closely, she welcomed the chance to cross swords with him once again. Lily braced herself for the storm.
    But he did nothing, nothing at all, if she discounted the slight gleam in his eyes. Did she see a challenge there?
    “Twas a trick of the flickering light, more like. Lily bit her lip. She needed him to react, to lash back at her. Otherwise she’d never be able to sustain enough fire in her blood to do what she must. But his disregard of her meager show of defiance sapped her mettle. Fresh pain throbbed to life, making the simple act of standing torture.
    Shivers racked her, beyond her will to ignore.
    Still silent, the Dragon left the chamber and returned with a three-legged stool.
    “Here, sit before you fall.” He slammed the stool down and, grabbing her by the shoulders, pushed her onto the seat.
    She closed her eyes and robbed at her arms, certain she’d bear the imprint of his strong, callused fingers for days to come. But he’d spared her the indignity of collapsing at his feet.
    Rough wool settled over her shoulders and startled her into opening her eyes. The warm folds of fabric enveloped her in her captor’s scent. She tugged the cloak more tightly around her body and tried to ignore the sense of solace his unexpected gesture brought. It wouldn’t be wise to feel grateful to him, to owe him anything. Who could tell what the Dragon might demand in return?
    “Are you ready to talk today?” he demanded, his voice gruff. He leaned back against the wall with complete disregard for the cold, slimy stones and folded his arms across his chest.
    “I’m curious. Why must you see Llywelyn?
    What is so important that you’d risk your life to get to him?”
    Lily fought the seductive slide into comfort as the cloak warmed her body. Within her mind raged a furious debate.
    Should she tell him? Sweet Mary, she knew little enough herself. But she’d heard it said that the Dragon had Llywelyn’s favor—indeed, even his trust. He could help her, if he wished.
    “Is Llywelyn even here?” The question had haunted her through the night. Until then, she hadn’t allowed herself to consider that her efforts might be for naught. The guard she’d spoken to—the one who’d refused her admittance to the keep even as he laughed at her request to see the mighty prince–had told her Llywelyn planned to stay at Dolwyddelan for a sennight more. But given