It momentarily gave her hope.
Her smile faded as she remembered why they were here.
Oma left the carriage, joining Ember, Noor, and their guards. The carriages took a loop in the opposite direction through the inns to meet them at the end of the market’s u-shape. Many of the horses stayed behind, held by the guards as an escape route. They formed a box around the two royals.
Ember shivered as Oma came beside her.
“Are you nervous, Fireheart?” Oma asked.
“Yes,” she answered quietly, unable to look her grandmother in the eye.
“You’ll get used to the attention. Smile and wave, and we’ll be moving on to the next province. As we already meet most of the influential here during your ball, we can make a bit more progress early on in the journey.”
Oma nodded to a few shopkeepers as they passed. Ember looked to them too, ready to mimic her movements when a familiar face caught her eye.
Jade stood apart in the crowd, an expression that mingled pain and rage. Her eyes barreled into the Dragon Matron like a snakebite. Her posture was tight, strong shoulders clothed in a black tunic and vest. Her eyes accused her, grey like steel. Then they blinked away to Ember’s and she nodded.
She tried not to react, tried to pretend she didn’t see the disrespect the rebel leader gave to the matriarch of the royal family. But Omanox did see it. Her hobbled rouse disintegrated as they walked and encountered more of the resistance members Ember had come to know.
Along each shop, around each corner, members stood in black. They ignored or raged at the Dragon Matron’s appearance, then turned to acknowledge Ember with respect. It was a statement, an unignorable protest. Karwyn was farther back in the crowd, Ember couldn't see how they reacted to her. Was it the same as Omanox? She imaged so, as Karwyn traveled with her not-pair, Jedoriah.
Didn’t they see this could implicate her? That their care and outright favoring could make some clues click in the Dragon Matron’s mind like Jedoriah had uncovered the night before? Ember looked back into the crowd, unconsciously looking for the parents of the dead child. She didn’t see them.
She could feel her grandmother grow angrier by the second. While the majority of those assembled along the drive were excited to see them, even reaching out for them, the angry and somber faces in black stood apparent no matter where they turned.
Noor stepped back from the front of the guards and put himself between Oma and Ember.
“A varied crowd today,” he commented lightly.
“Yes, it seems our appearance brought in some rats,” Oma replied with disdain. Ember nearly shivered at the memory.
“We should stop into one or two of the shops, split up and draw out the energy,” Noor recommended. Ember could kiss him for it.
“Thank you, Noorworth Knight. The carriage is draftier than expected. I’ll see to getting some extra blankets from the seamstresses,” Oma said as her head turned to the store in question. She did not look at Ember.
The group split into two, the Dragon Matron’s guards following behind her.
“Jardano’s around the corner,” Noor said hurriedly. Her hand gripped the crook of his arm as they walked quickly in the direction of his shop. The man that stood at the door barely resembled the man they met. His wrinkled and kind face was bruised, purple skin on both eyes, his cheek and peeking from his black shirt.
Noor and Ember rushed inside, Wally commanding the rest to remain with him at the perimeter.
“Jardano, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” She reached for the side of his face hesitantly before letting her hand fall. Tears pooled at her eyes, blurring his face.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated from beneath the water and pit of her pain.
His small frame encircled her in a hug. “Ember we don’t have much time. I will be fine. But before you leave, I have a message.”
“What is it?” Noor asked with a hand to her back, making soft circles. His touch was comfort and she calmed enough to sit in the offered chair.
“This arrived for me last night, I was going to give it to you after the meeting but… you know how that went.”
His weathered hands reached into his desk and pulled out a small wraith scroll. He passed it over the clutter of books on his desk to Noor’s outstretched hands.
He unfurled the small piece of paper and angled it for him and Ember to read at the same time.
I heard she is looking for answers about our predicament. I have something she must see. I can’t share it in writing. Arrange a meeting.
-A.S.
“Who is A.S.?” Noor asks as he curled the message back into a size small enough for the mini dragons of stunted wings. They couldn’t fly far, only about the stretch of the kingdom. Despite their wings, they weren’t able to make it over the wall and to the next kingdoms above the sea.
“Amic Keyholder. He is a resistance scribemaster. The best one, in fact.”
It took Ember a moment to comprehend the two sentences that Jardano spoke so freely. A keyholder, the protector of a province, was a rebel bookkeeper and studier of the realm? She was getting tired of the duplicity, whether it was in her favor or not.
He smiled at her bafflement.
“It surprised us all. He had been working in secret, gathering information for years before reaching out to us. When you get to Borderain, he’ll have something to share with you, he must have heard your call for information about the wall. If he can’t send it by messenger… well, we won’t know what he has to share until you report back.”
“Okay,” Ember said weakly. She pulled her knees up on the chair. She began to sweat through the layers, a tremor rattling the shambles of her resolve.
Would they still nod their respect, rally for her, when she let them down? She knew she would soon find out.
Her moms, the murdered Fateless, Amir, the dead resistors, possibly Hasley. The bodies of the dead would bury her alive.
Twenty-Five
Coming Together
Ember looked up into the darkness, swirls of clouds flittered in and out of her vision. This wasn't what she expected to feel. This wasn't who she wanted to be. The stars seemed to agree, twinkling between clouds like a nod of understanding.
She remembered the stories of the Unyielding War, of all the beasts that roamed their earth before man began to tear it all down. Before select creatures sat on thrones. Would the dragons have given her as much wonder as the stars and the sea? Would their world ever see a dragon again?
Ember leaned onto the edge of the balcony, looking down towards the first floor and out into the darkened streets. She barely felt the cold iron rails on her skin.
It was a lovely view, nothing like that of her tower, but she enjoyed having the outside air. They’d only be here for one night and one breakfast. Their official tour of the kingdom was on a schedule like the fating tours some families would send their older children on, in fact. Two weeks, every province, as many faces to gaze upon as possible.
But instead of the excitement those trips would bring, Ember felt dread. The stars wouldn’t stop turning for her to find comfort in their trip, nor would they help grant her confidence that they'd find Hasley. They had itineraries and meetings to keep.
“Is this a private brooding or can anyone join?”
Ember jumped and turned, finding her pair leaning against the balcony doorway. She smiled softly and nodded, unable to answer aloud. Noor walked to her and wrapped his arms around her middle, settling his face into her neck. She loved when he held her like that. Their bodies entwined around each other was calmer than her thoughts on past wars, but not less powerful.
“I didn’t live that far from here,” Ember murmured into the dark.
“Oh? When was that?” Noor asked from the crook of her neck. His breath tickled and she shivered.
“When I was fourteen. We moved about every year, to keep from settling. They didn’t want me to make friends. She didn’t want anyone to know me long enough, remember me we
ll enough to answer questions if interrogated. I know that now. But before, they said it was because of these.”
Ember’s hand rested on top of her scales. They had healed, grown stronger since joining the royal family. Whether that be because of the better nutrition or the proximity to her birth mom, she didn’t know.
“Did you like it here?” he asked. He already knew how the moves made her feel. They had discussed it at length. The isolation, pain, guilt, and shame of it. She couldn’t be rid of them. But he asked anyway, inquiring more about the memory.
But here in Faymader, she actually did have some fond memories. In fact, her last memories. It was her move right after where Ember lost her family.
“It was the only year my parents let me go to the Aaleia festival. I couldn’t go with the kids from school, but we went together as a family. I got to walk the streets with them, enjoy a hot meal and a show. It was one of my favorite family days,” Ember said. She remembered the smell of the roasted corn and seasoned meat. There weren’t that many places around Ashkadance that bred animals and served meat, at least not for a steep price. It was easier in Faymader. Many of the farmlands created the perfect environment for it.
“Wait, if you were fourteen then I was sixteen.”
Noor stood up and turned Ember around. Her dress swished and smacked his legs with the movement. She could barely see his body in the dark; his clothing matched the sky.
“Yes, that’s how age works,” Ember teased, unsure about his abrupt statement. She couldn’t keep the laughter from her voice.
“I was here during the Aaleia festival when I was sixteen. My sister, she wanted to visit a friend that had fated to a farmer. My parents let me come with her. I was here when you were,” his voice took on a sense of wonder. A hidden discovery, a path where their future could have changed.
“What would have happened if we had fated then, at fourteen and sixteen?” Ember whispered back to him. His face grew closer to her, and she matched the movement. Ember felt the magic of what could have been at the fingertips of her mind. If she had this bond as a child, her whole life could have been different. Even if their intimacy wouldn’t grow for a few years, they’d still feel the trust and support.
“I may never have discovered who I was. My moms may not have died. Or would they have died sooner? If I had been paired, would we have kept moving?” Ember’s happiness dwindled and died. There were too many possibilities. Too many places their lives could have gone if they had found each other sooner.
“I wouldn’t have been a guard,” Noor said thoughtfully. He hadn’t joined until he had an opportunity to make a difference. If she hadn’t found out her heritage, they may have never had become involved at all, despite Noor’s parents’ involvement.
Sensing her mood, Noor rubbed up and down her arms.
“It was meant to happen this way,” he said. He pulled her closer to him, and their lips locked in a kiss. It was sweet and unhurried, a promise more than a sign of affection.
“You are part of me. I am part of you,” Ember said. She felt safe in the circle of his arms. Would every night on this campaign be like this?
Within moments her thoughts told her no. Most of the provinces had resistance bases. Most nights they'd be awake, going off in the darkness to unknown destinations with strangers. This might be the only night, in fact, where they could just… be.
“I can't wait to hear more, to even see some of your life before I met you,” Noor whispered to her.
“And I can't wait to share it,” Ember whispered back. Because now, she didn't have to hide. Not with him, anyway. While the events of the past few weeks have shaken her to her core, scared her in ways she didn't think were possible, there was also peace and love. Even an acceptance of who she was.
She had never had that before.
But this acceptance came with the responsibility of her kingdom.
She didn't know how to survive it.
Ember held Noor’s hand under the table, his thumb rubbing back and forth over her skin. She smiled at the conversing keyholder of Faymader, trying to recall her name and hoping she caught enough of the conversation to add to any paused moments.
“The scribes are charging too much for their books,” complained the keyholder. Ember’s attention was drawn back to the conversation at their words.
“Why would that be, Mirdacle?” Oma asked politely from her end of the table. The blue of her soft dress brought out the white of her hair. It was early still and the sky held a cast of orange mixed with the blue.
“I have no clue. There are enough apprentices for them to have help,” she spoke with a clipped tone, as if there was nothing for them to complain about.
The keyholder’s daughter dropped her goblet down on the dark wood table a little harder than necessary. Her black hair bounced at the movement, ringlets springing on her shoulders.
“I have always appreciated the guidance of the scribes,” she replied and crossed her arms. Her eyes briefly crossed over them, testing for recognition.
“As have we,” Noor responded for them. “You apprentice for your mother, is that right Mina?” Noor asked before biting into the fresh fruit. A drizzle of liquid fell onto his chin. Ember smiled and reached to wipe it away. Noor caught her hand with a kiss.
“Yes, I am,” Mina responded with a smile and a nod. Asserting herself as the next keeper of the province, a rebel ready and available to them and the cause.
“They are full of themselves if you ask me,” the keyholder replied. She did not share the same affiliation as her daughter.
While Faymader did not seem to have a main base, probably less concentrated rebels in the farmlands, there were still people among them. There would always be people willing to jump into danger. Willing to take a stab wound for what they thought was right. Ember saw the cold eyes of Amir flash before her.
“Our Dragon Daughter is also here on a quest,” Oma said with a sweet tone.
“Oh, do tell,” The keyholder said, losing some of the venom at the change of conversation. The idea peaked her curiosity, evidently.
“Yes,” Ember chimed in, finding her voice. It cracked with the misuse, and she cleared her throat.
“An old friend of mine is missing. We’d like to share with your guard a description of her for circulation.”
“Is this missing girl… fateless?” Midacle asked with a curl of her thin lips. Ember felt the word fateless like a brand on her heart. Most missing people were fateless. The only exception she could think of had been herself.
“Yes,” Noor replied quickly. He picked up the hint of disgust as well, and his distaste for it was obvious in the hard voice of his response.
“I don’t understand why you want to help them. They are beyond that, a blight to our society,” Midacle commented obliviously.
She emphasized blight and Ember wanted to hurl her glass in response.
“Is your daughter paired?” Ember asked the older woman. Mina must have been nineteen, not much older than Ember.
“No, why?”
“If she went missing, was fateless, or both—how would you want me to handle that?” Ember asked her.
The table grew quiet for several moments, Midacle’s lip tightening to a straight line until the daughter laughed outright.
“She doesn’t want to admit it,” Mina said between laughs, the deceptively happy sound turning into one of anger.
“She would want me dead,” the daughter concluded, and the purple of her eyes shone bright with mischief.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ember and Noor,” Mina said as she stood from the table. “Know that you have an ally in us.”
She walked from the table with a nod to her mother and the Dragon Matron. A servant bowed and picked up Mina’s untouched food from the table.
“She’s passionate, Midacle, I’m sure she’ll make a fine keyholder one day,” Oma said with a smile to the woman who stared back to her daughter. While being keyholder did not always pass down
from parent to child, it often did. They grew up in the shadow of responsibility, just like the royals did. Or at least they did until Ember’s kidnapping.
“Yes, she will,” Midacle replied weakly as she turned back to her breakfast and scooped some porridge in her mouth.
In the week that followed, Ember and Noor met many resistors like Mina. Some with limited connections, others with an expansive network. But all of them had one thing in common. They knew about Ember. They knew a new queen was coming that heard their calls.
The needs of the few, those that were left with no purpose post-wall, they needed her. Resistors that had family in the kingdom of Grydagia and Faeinto, they needed to see them again. Those that have loved and lost; Family mourning their fateless, murdered and swept away… The people have been neglected, forced to live day by day as if they weren’t running out of resources and hope.
And the word was spreading. Their pains growing, a breathable and living thing. Those in the resistance were not just the youth. No one type of person was overflowing. It was distributed. Even. The old, the new, those fated and others not. Professionals. Keyholders. Their children. Guards.
Ember and Noor met dozens of people across the provinces, spending nights sleepless and days on the road in a makeshift bed in a private carriage.
If Oma noticed their behavior, she didn’t comment on it, but Ember could feel her stare as they ate breakfast each morning. Ember and Noor grew quieter in her presence with each sleepless night, the purple under her eyes growing larger.
Even separated, the resistance seemed to reorganize with each day. More sectors connected, asking their scribes for guidance and becoming one.
Hope followed her. She wished she had more of it herself. The longer they went without any sign of Hasley, the less motivation she had. She knew this wasn't only about her friend, but rather all of the Fateless, but her heart had a hard time remembering that.
Royalty Fantasy Boxset: Ember Dragon Daughter & Hasley Fateless (Fated Tales Series 1 & 1.5) (The Fated Tales Series: YA Royalty Fantasy) Page 21
