Free Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) by Emma Raveling

pedaillon.
    Curiosity stirred. “Was it a hard decision?”
    “What was?”
    “Giving up being a gardinel.”
    Surprise flashed across his face. “No.”
    “Why not?”
    I knew he disliked his royal duties, but he’d loved being gardinel. How could he have given it up so easily?
    “If I didn’t leave my gardinel post, I wouldn’t have time to train and work with Dax. If I didn’t work with Dax, I couldn’t be with you. Or I could, but it would be at a terrible cost to my people who deserve better.” He held me closer. “It wasn’t hard at all. You’re more important than either the gardinel post or the throne.”
    I pulled away slightly. “And you were okay with that?”
    “It’s who I am.” He studied me. “What’s going on, Kendra?”
    I shook my head. Julian had gotten to me.
    “Nerves.”
    His hand cupped my neck, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin behind my ear. “You’ll be fine.”
    I reached up and pulled his mouth to mine, needing his reassurance just a moment longer.
    Our lips parted and the warmth of his skin a hairbreadth away left me heady. A part of me would never stop being thrilled that I could be this close to him now.
    His lips moved. “I love you.”  
    There was something expectant, maybe even hopeful in his gaze.  
    “We should get going,” I blurted.
    A tiny hint of disappointment in the tightened edge of his mouth, and then his expression smoothed.  
    He extended his hand. Beautiful fingers and calloused palm opened the past and I saw that hand extended to me in his car, after a bloody night. Reaching for me in a darkened Lyondale factory.
    Brushing my face, asking me to never leave him beneath the glow of a starry night.  
    I slid my hand into his.
    By the time we reached the main doors, Tristan had filled me in on the plan for Holden and the nixes. He let go, then left to take his place first.
    A heavy stillness hung in the air as if Haverleau held its breath.
    I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs and strode in.
    Gasps and shocked murmurs raced around the Council Chamber. Hundreds of eyes tracked me with judgment and disdain.
    The Council occupied their usual seats around the marble T-shaped table. Patrice LeVeq’s complexion turned bone white, her familiar deep blue eyes widening with shock.
    Ahead, the imposing mahogany frame of the Governor’s chair loomed. How my petite grandmother had always seemed to fill that seat was beyond me.
    I decided to remain standing. No one noticed.
    They were too busy staring at my clothes.
    Tristan sat to my right, his thigh pressing against mine beneath the table. I glanced back. A group of Royal Gardinels, two rows thick, stood tall and expressionless, their bulky strength forming an impenetrable wall near the Summoning Pool.  
    An insistent prickle at the back of my neck indicated Jourdain’s presence in the glass tank on my left.
    I refused to look at her. Magic’s pressure increased, clawing under my skin.
    I gripped the table tighter. Bite me, bitch.
    Marquis Rosamund narrowed his eyes. “Is this some type of joke?”
    I tugged the strap of my camisole up and cast the Council a challenging look.
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    Worn jeans comfortably fit my legs and my dagger rested in a sheath strapped around my waist. A simple ponytail left my shoulders bare, displaying the top of the wave tattoo curving over my shoulder.
    It was what I wore when I faced my mother’s killers in San Aurelio, the night Tristan tore around the corner.
    The clothes I wore when I first stepped foot in Haverleau.
    In one year, the elemental world had carved me into the sondaleur , altering what I understood about myself and others.
    I would never be the same Iron Governor as Rhian, or a political strategist like Marcella.  
    But I was still a fighter.  
    I was still me.  
    “This is unacceptable.” Patrice turned to the other Council members. “She looks like she just returned from a nightclub.”
    “And your opinion, while