Two figures as dark as shadows, as still a night, stood in the cross section of two streets. Athon was silent, except for the wind’s soft howling. The moonlight cast shadows across the cobblestones. The cold of winter avoided them both. No plume of warm air escapes their lips. His loose fitting shirt and her thin flowing dress only provided a single layer against the cold. Neither seemed to mind.

  “Your continued presence in Athon will draw unwanted attention.” Coara said in her silky voice.

  “You bringing her here brought unwanted attention. I’m doing what I can to bring attention away from her.”

  “Jiian?” She asked, letting the silence seek the truth.

  He sighed before looking back at her. “I have heard whispers that Midnight was in Athon.”

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  “I see.” She responded with her voice laced with annoyance. They both looked away. Her voice softened as she looked back at him. “You still haven’t given up?”

  He shook his head. “I know you don’t understand…” He let out an exasperated sign. “As long as one of them survives I…” His voice went hoarse. He cleared his throat and changed the topic. “The throne is in a precarious position right now. Two would-be kingmakers. One wants to put his grandson on the throne and control from the shadows. The other wants to sit his lover on the throne.” A wicked smile cut across his face. “How about we set Midnight on them and Anelle can reap the crown?”

  “My intention in bringing her here was never to sit her on the throne!” Coara snapped. Her eyes wide with furry.

  Jiian giggled. “No, then why Athon? Her father hailed from the island of Eslon. Why not leave her outside a relative's house?”

  “She has a right to know who she is. But the throne of Athon will fall. Once the curse is broken and the dragons have breathed their last, the Enifr name will be left in the past.”

  Coara turned and puffed into swirling black smoke.