Royalty Fantasy Boxset: Ember Dragon Daughter & Hasley Fateless (Fated Tales Series 1 & 1.5) (The Fated Tales Series: YA Royalty Fantasy)

by Rebecca K. Sampson

  “Let’s go,” he directed.

  While they did not bind her again, they might as well have. The three guards closed in around Ember, using their bodies to guide her feet. They marched her forward in synchronized steps. It echoed around her despite the open air.

  The Fateless, with their mental state broken, were never seen again. She expected the same treatment. As if in flashes, Ember could imagine what would happen next. Amlin would lose his business if he didn't replace her fast enough. Hasley would be promoted to her purpose quicker without Ember to distract her. Ember's home would be ransacked and redistributed. And Ember herself would disappear. Never to be seen or heard from again.

  Ember had never expected much for her future. A business partnership with Hasley. A few new unique jewelry designs that she knew Amlin would hate. Quiet mornings on Mount Pietan and sleeping in on the weekends to round out her simple life. It wasn’t much, but it had seemed nice. Those small hopes were gone now. All the heartaches her moms went through were for nothing. She had failed them. Their deaths meant nothing now that she was found.

  Ember stared at the different guards on each side of her. Their bodies pushed her leftward to the road that forked to housing and traveler inns. Even the guard uniform worked as a propaganda piece, Ember knew. Purple and gold, the color of the blessing and the fating. The royal family was divinely chosen.

  Now entering the small cottages that line the row of inns for travelers, Ember paused her steps. Was this where she would die?

  “Keep moving,” a light voice said from behind her. Ember began to shake her head frantically.

  “It’s going to be okay. Keep walking,” the man spoke again. She turned slightly to see it was the guard that had helped the redhead tie her arms, the shorter one with the quiet voice. She tried to believe him and keep her body moving, being ushered forward by the sea of bodies that cocooned her.

  Ember was not a physical person. She could not overpower the royal guards, and she doubted they would listen to any excuse or reasoning she could come up with to let her go. She’d have to continue with their plan until she had a moment to escape. Ember told herself to look out for weaknesses, to find a window of opportunity. There always was something that could be exploited.

  Ember looked up as they passed under a sign and into the stone building. The outside of the inn featured vines across its stones. Ember always liked seeing greenery on buildings. She briefly noted the name of the establishment as they passed the hanging sign, The Dragon Bevy.

  “We’ve found her,” the redhead said as they entered into the inn. He stood directly in her sight, blocking who he spoke to.

  Around the room were portraits of Drakul, other dragons in flight and in battle. There was even a large tooth the size of her head mounted on the fireplace mantle. The room was dark, with red and green decor and dark brown couches. The only item not a dark hue was the fireplace itself, made from the same peiradoone stone that created their walls. The contrast was jarring. Much like her entire day.

  Ember tried to look further around the room to see whom the guard was speaking, but the two men holding her arms didn’t give her body enough clearance.

  “Show me,” a commanding voice said. The last syllable held stronger than the rest.

  Her line of vision altered as the tall guard stepped aside. A group of men and women in the sitting room became visible before her. One man, in particular, stood out. The redhead gestured to Ember with a swoop of his arm.

  Before Ember stood the one person she hoped to never meet in the whole of Ashkadance. Jedoriah Knight, pair to Karwyn Dragon Queen.

  Four

  Jedoriah Knight

  He sat before her in a claw-like leather chair. Not a muscle or hair from his blue mane out of place, the tall spears of the chair curling above him. The calm demeanor of Karwyn Dragon Queen’s pair turned to cautious joy quickly.

  Jedoriah looked at her inquisitively. As if answering an unspoken signal, the redhead pulled her with him to Jedoriah’s chair. With the change in position, she could better see the other guards and staff that surrounded her.

  “Do not be afraid," Jedoriah told her. He pushed Ember’s jacket away and his hand flew to his mouth in shock. He stared at her and Ember felt her life pulsing into the unknown at too rapid a pace. Ice rolled through her blood, her body stock-still in fear. While her whole chest was not visible, enough of it was. Now over a dozen people knew of her scales.

  Jedoriah smiled wildly, the curves of it visible behind his hand. Ember's face reddened in shame. She swore she could almost feel his breath on her skin.

  “Thank you, Zhieve Captain,” Jedoriah said. Ember glanced behind her, noticing the pin on his lapel that designated his rank. The blond stood behind him and the brunette. Neither had the same pin. There was one captain per guard group. One for the Dragon Matron, one for the Dragon Queen (with whom Jedoriah belonged), and one would be chosen for the Dragon Daughter. If she were found.

  Tears prickled Ember’s eyes, a hot sting she would always remember from this moment. She was entirely exposed to the room of guards and companions of Jedoriah Knight. The grey, purple, and black patches of raised flesh were as comforting as a burn. These lifts of skin pushed away from her body in strange jagged flakes— the marks of her ruin. The marred skin would be the death of her.

  In two silent steps, he was towering in front of her.

  “My Dragon Daughter, at last.” His smooth voice slinked onto Ember’s skin, and she wished she could wipe it off. He hugged her, and his arms wrapped around her quickly before he backed away, holding her at arm's length.

  Ember’s eyes bulged and her thoughts sputtered. They had to be fateless. How could they think she was the Princess? She had moms, and they were certainly not members of the royal family. The room grew quieter the longer Jedoriah stared at her skin, so she broke the silence with one whispered sentence. She would not follow along with their misguided notions.

  “You are wrong.”

  It was an act of confrontation that was incredibly foreign to her, but she had no idea what else to do. Ember wondered how deeply her blood would stain the carpet when he struck her down. It was a steadying thought despite the whispers in her head and the racing of her heart.

  Jedoriah burst into a laugh that shook the whole room, white teeth exposed. Some inhabitants froze, confused by the outburst, while others exhaled shakily at the breaking of tension. It was unclear if this was usual behavior for the Knight of the kingdom.

  “I knew you’d have spirit,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her and closed the jacket to hide her scales once more.

  A strangled sound emitted from her throat, protesting his words. Ember didn’t feel like she had spirit. She felt like she was falling down a hole that would never end with a voice hoarse from tears and screams. Ember was sure she would forever dangle in the dark of her mind. Maybe she was fateless after all.

  Jedoriah let her go and the blond guard led her by the arm to the couch next to them. He pushed her down with gentle hands before instructing the other guards about something. She didn’t hear him. All she knew was that she was in a den of dragons, a bevy, the name of the inn made flesh, and she had no way out.

  When she looked at Jedoriah again, his eyes practically glowed with dark delight at her discomfort.

  “I cannot believe it. The lost Dragon Daughter in my inn!” A jubilant woman exclaimed from the corner of the room. She bounced up and down with her hands held in prayer before her. Oblivious as she was to the tension in the air, Ember understood that this woman’s reaction would be mimicked all throughout the kingdom. She would never be left alone again.

  But she didn’t understand. This was not real. It couldn’t be real. She was not the Princess, and nothing of the past few moments made sense to her.

  Ember's memories circled, replaying in her mind. She was not a Princess. She was an orphan, a deformed orphan with scales on her chest. Her parents told her it was a gift. A gift that held a dea
th sentence not a crown.

  “What can I get you, Embrence Dragon Daughter?”

  Ember looked back and forth between the excitable innkeeper and the rest of the occupants in the low-lit room. Fire flickered in the corner, and a stray bit of sun came down from the window. She ignored her question, but the name stuck out to her.

  Embrence. Ember. Embrence. Ember. Similar, inspired by the Princess. But not the same. She was not that girl. She couldn't be.

  “I’m the daughter of Echoris Guider and Julimore Instructor. This is a mistake. I should leave,” Ember said. She willed herself to stand up from the couch. She looked pleadingly for the kind guard, trying to steer her body away from Jedoriah.

  “No mistake here, my dear. You have scales. You are the Princess. Sit back down,” Jedoriah answered instead, his suit as dark as obsidian.

  Ember, unsure how to get out of this room and the large sum of men and women around her, thought to work with the element of surprise. With nothing to lose and her life already in peril, she pretended not to hear him. What distraction could she cause that was within her control but grand enough that she had the possibility of escape? Her eyes danced around the space. They settled briefly on the fireplace.

  “So what do you want me to do with this information?” She asked, asserting more confidence than she felt. She walked toward the mantle of peiradoone. The guards closest to it pushed in around her as if she would bolt. In truth, that is what she planned to do, but she had to distract them first.

  She stared up at the portrait of Drakul before he took human form, blowing fire on ships at sea. It was a brutal scene, both men and merfolk floating lifeless on the waters and the banks of the shore. One of Jedoriah’s favorite pieces, a small text plate informed her from below the portrait. She could see how that would be something he chose.

  She inched closer to it, putting herself within a foot of the fireplace. Beside her was a stand of pokers. She uncrossed her arms, and as if satisfied by her perusal, turned around. She waited for an answer, and Jedoriah was happy to oblige.

  “There is nothing else to do but to come with me back to the palace in Azororion. You are the heir.”

  “So you think I’m the Dragon Daughter because of these?” Ember asked, gesturing to her scales beneath the jacket. She had never addressed them so bluntly. It felt like a stab to her heart before she put her hands behind her back. Her left hand gripped the poker.

  “Yes, you are the Dragon Daughter,” he insisted again. He did not seem like the kind of person that liked a challenge.

  “Maybe there are two people with markings on their chest," she countered. No one had ever said before that the Dragon Daughter had literal scales. If that were true, she would have known about it. Everyone would. They were nothing like the symmetrical sparkling gems of skin that she saw depicted on every dragon portrait and figurine.

  “Impossible,” came his short and instant reply.

  “How do you know?” she asked. Her straight posture wore on her. Her heart hammered, and she wished she could lay down. Just a few more minutes and she could go back to her calm demeanor.

  “Answer me this: Why else would someone have scales if they weren’t related to a dragon?”

  Ember had wondered her whole life why she was born with this deformity. Was she a blight by Aaleia to punish her moms for a reason unbeknownst to her? Did she deserve it somehow? Had Mutrien seen something dark in her soul? Was she actually a beast? A mistake in creation, the wrong child placed in the wrong womb? But she had one reason that she felt was true. One she had thought many times but never said aloud.

  The innkeeper walked hesitantly closer, not yet dismissed and testing her boundaries. What would she overhear? What could she share with the rest of the community? Ember disliked her immediately for the invasion into her life.

  “I am a curse,” Ember answered, "nothing in our kingdom has gone well since I was born." It hurt her to say her darkest fear, but she needed him distracted long enough. Her hands curled around the iron poker. She felt her life chiseled away chip by chip.

  “I’m not the one to give you answers.”

  Ember recalled her mother’s words like a brand. Echoris and Julimore had pushed Aaleia and Mutrien on her as if the Goddess and their God planet were the only beings that had answers to Ember’s questions.

  It was a theory that Ember felt guilt for every day. Her mother had been on one of the merfolk kidnapped ships 17 years ago. As a tutor in the castle, her mother had been on the trip across the sea with the royals, teaching some of the guard’s children. Julimore witnessed what ultimately led Omanox Dragon Queen to build the wall. The repercussions of the kidnapping of Karwyn changed the whole kingdom. Could the gods have cursed her mother's womb for watching it happen and not taking action?

  Jedoriah had some questions of his own.

  “Don’t you think it’s cruel that your supposed family would raise you to live in fear, to think you are cursed, a girl with scales in a dragon society? Isn't it more likely that they were keeping your heritage from you?"

  Ember blinked repeatedly. This was her life, all she had known. It was who she was. Why would she think any differently?

  “They were protecting me,” Ember decided to answer, knowing without a doubt that was the truth of it. Her moms loved her, wanted to help and save her. If they were still with her, this never would have happened.

  “And where are your captors now?” he questioned, leaning forward from his imposing chair. Ember almost forgot her plan, almost dropped the poker.

  “They died in a rebel attack last year.” It was something that broke Ember’s heart every day, a sore point of guilt in her heart. They had died while traveling to set up their new home, caught in an attack while Ember had stayed behind to pack up the house. They never came back.

  “Convenient,” Jedoriah responded. Ember felt like she had been slapped. How could someone say that about someone’s parents being dead?

  Ember didn’t respond.

  “What…what is that?” Ember stammered, her eyes going wide. One hand pointed to the opposite corner at the jubilant woman. She looked down at herself, trying to see what Ember was pointing at. All eyes followed Ember’s finger to do the same. It was a simple distraction, but she only needed them to look away for a moment.

  Ember pushed the gate away from the fireplace with a crash, using the poker to protect her hands. She used it again to push out the logs. Two pieces of flaming grey wood caught the fabric of the carpet and the innkeeper screamed.

  Half the occupants in the room jumped up at the same time to try and douse the flames. The rest of the room stood dumbfounded for a minute before comprehension crossed their face. Flames licked across the room. Jedoriah and his Captain did not run towards the fire; they bee-lined straight for Ember.

  She ran back towards the wide wooden monstrosity of a door at the end of the room. Her arm was already extended, begging the clasp of the door to be closer. A short curvy woman with bright long blonde hair walked right into her path. Ember tried to go around her, but she resisted her with surprising strength and pushed back. The woman grabbed the jacket Ember wore in a spin.

  Exhausted by yet another person pulling on her clothing, she screamed in frustration. Feet stomped behind her, both on the fire spreading through the room and with the rush of guards behind her. It was a good effort, but there were too many variables already against her to be able to escape. If Ember was honest with herself, she knew she didn’t have much of a chance anyway.

  “Don’t just stand there! Get a bucket of water!” A woman yelled behind them.

  “It’s spreading! Hurry!” Another man cried out.

  Ember felt a bit satisfied that she at least made it to the door. That initial pride fell into guilt when she surveyed the problem she created for the innkeeper. Hopefully, the crown would cover the damages.

  “That was a stupid thing to do,” Jedoriah said to her, eyes boring down.

  Ember didn’t say anythin
g in return. Her bravado leaked from her. She was now a husk, empty and uncertain.

  “How about I prepare a room at another inn close by for our company and Embrence Dragon Daughter? I have a feeling the Dragon Bevy will not be operational for our stay tonight,” the blonde woman said, still gripping her jacket.

  “Go with Cindrea,” Jedoriah Knight said to Zhieve, not even looking at the woman as he answered. The two of them stepped away and out the door to prepare the inn. Jedoriah grabbed Ember’s arm with a vice grip and called out for assistance.

  “Amir Guard!”

  The kind guard that gave her his jacket left the commotion and came to their side. He coughed, and Ember let the guilt build in her as she saw his face smudged with ash.

  “You are now the Princess’s captain. Your first duty is to take her outside before the smoke gets too hot. Keep her from escaping, will you?” he asked. His eyes did not leave Ember, and his hand held onto her tighter.

  Ember looked away first.

  “Of course, Jedoriah Knight. Right away,” Amir responded, putting his hands on the back of Ember’s shoulders. Jedoriah let go with one final look, then went to delegate the remaining guards as they attempted to stop the fire. The red flames licked blue, gaining steam as they caught on the furniture.

  “This is blood fire!” Jedoriah stated loudly and opened his arms wide to the room. Immediately the mood changed. The men holding the buckets of water dropped their pails and rushed to the back room. They emerged with shovels and rushed outdoors. Confused by their actions, Ember watched curiously as Amir escorted her from the inn. Outside, she saw the men digging and depositing dirt and rubble into bags.

  Amir noticed her confusion.

  “Blood fire must be snuffed out. Suffocated not drowned.”

  Well, she certainly made a mess of things, hadn’t she?

  Five

  Three Dominant Families

  Awoken by a chirping wraith, Ember blinked rapidly and stretched out her legs. Soft blankets brushed her skin, unlike the poor excuse for blankets she had in her home. Where was she? Confused and disoriented, she wiggled her body into a seated position. Immediately the reality of the evening came back to her. She was currently in her own personal purgatory, trapped in a royal world she had no business being part of. She sighed, wishing she was still asleep.