King Damir chuckled. With care, and a bit of a tug from Ashwood, I found my footing again. The king dabbed a hand over the thin, sealed scar across his neck. Where blood and opened flesh had been moments ago, now it looked like nothing more than a healing scrape.

The king’s eyes flashed in a new kind of life. “I feel it. The addition of it, the strength of it. It took so swiftly. Not even Fadey could settle a binding so painlessly.” He laughed and clapped his hands, delighted. “How glad I am to have you here, Lyra Bien.”

A few courtiers and mistresses offered a gentle applause, with murmured praises.

Damir placed his hands on my shoulders, nudging Roark to step back. The air was colder without the Sentry so close.

“You will be honored in these walls,” Damir told me. “A crucial member of the royal house and Stav Guard. I still see the fear in your eyes. Tell me what I can do to ease your worries.”

There was sincerity in the king’s words, his eyes. What was it about melding that brought such peace, such hope, and fear? How was I to find a way to be free of these walls if I did not understand the craft that brought me here?

“I do not know much about melding craft. I think it would be wise to understand it.”

“I agree.” Damir glanced over my head. “Sentry Ashwood, you’ll see to it.”

Roark dipped his chin and nodded. I schooled my features into what I hoped was something unreadable, something flat. Why Roark? The thought was both a fear and a delight, and I could not explain it.

“You and I will speak in my chambers, Lyra. Then you will be given time to adjust to your life here. You will be shown about the borders of Stonegate and train with the Stav. Melding is a rare craft, and should you find yourself unprotected, you must be able to do so yourself.” The king cupped my chin with his large palms. “Your comfort is my greatest concern. The Sentry is under my command to keep you safe, but I’m certain you’ll hardly know he is there.”

19

Lyra

Outside the king’s chamber, Roark took his place against the wall. I didn’t need to look to know his gaze followed me until the door closed at my back.

King Damir had one hand on the edge of the hearth as he slowly sipped from a drinking horn, watching the flames. The king kept his hair loose over his shoulders, and a pale tunic hung undone from his trousers.

“Lyra.” He grinned. “Come in.”