Ambushed (The Brindle Dragon Book 4)

by Jada Fisher

  Before she could even voice her worry, Athar’s large hands were on her waist—practically spanning them—and he pulled her out of the carriage and set her lightly on the ground.

  “Oh,” she felt herself whisper, her fingers gripping the top of his arms like a lifeline. She hadn’t been physically lifted like that outside of fight training since her father had last swung her around. It made her stomach twist and her heart flutter in excitement.

  “Sorry,” Athar murmured. “I didn’t th-think.”

  “No,” Eist said hurriedly, her voice warbling a bit herself. “It’s fine. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

  “Okay.”

  He went to take his arms away, but her fingers were still digging into the muscles of his forearms, as if they thought she was still in the air and in danger. He gave her an uncertain look, and she let go hurriedly.

  “Sorry,” she blurted, feeling her cheeks color.

  “I do not mind.”

  “Eist! Eist!”

  She practically jumped away at the sound of her name, looking away from Athar to see Yacrist quickly striding toward them, a wide grin across his face.

  “You look stunning,” he breathed, sweeping Eist up in a hug and twirling her about. Being lifted off her feet twice in so many moments left her a bit breathless and feeling much smaller and daintier than she ever had before.

  Thankfully, he set her down before she grew too dizzy, and she tried not to notice the scowl on Ain’s face or the blank mask on Athar’s.

  “I worried that you might not like what I sent. I do appreciate you wearing it. You didn’t have to.”

  “It was very kind of you,” Eist said diplomatically, looking him over.

  For all that she was dressed up, he was certainly done over in decidedly royal regalia. His tunic was made of some sort of cobalt velveteen, soft to the touch with gold embellishments. His hose were thick and clean, while his boots were up to his knees and looked like they were made from some expensive animal skin.

  His thick, dark hair was pulled into a warrior’s braid atop his head, showing more of his appealing features that girls were so liable to swoon over while his fingers had several rings on them that no doubt cost more than all of Eist’s allowances over the year combined. Lastly, a cloak was attached to one of his shoulders by an expensive looking clasp, hanging over half of his back and ending just below his knees.

  “You look well-kept as well.” Was that the right thing to say? It seemed polite.

  “This ridiculous getup?” he said with a laugh. “Just something my father insists on me putting on every time we have a special event. Something about representing pride in our duty, or something. Like I need any help with my vanity.”

  “That’s the first thing I’ve agreed with you on in weeks,” Ain said cheerily, walking right between the two of them. “Come on, I’m sure you’ve got many other important guests inside who are missing you.”

  “Ah, of course, why would I expect special treatment on my nameday? It’s good to have you here, Ain.”

  “Someone has to make sure you don’t get a big head,” he said with a wink, offering his arm to Dille once more.

  She took it, and Eist instinctively went for Athar’s again, but suddenly, Yacrist had looped her arm through his own. He was already happily talking her ear off, leaving Eist to look uncertainly back at their giant friend.

  His face didn’t say anything, just carefully blank as he stood there a moment. He caught Eist’s worried gaze and sent her a small smile before following along behind. Once she was sure he was coming, she looked back to the front and tried to figure out what was going on.

  She felt like Ain, Athar, and Yacrist were all playing a game of chess on a table that was too far above her head to see. She didn’t like the feeling of thinking that there was something going on with them and she had no idea what. Maybe it was some adulting thing that she wasn’t quite old enough to understand—they had two to three years on her. Or maybe it was just a man thing and she would never understand.

  Whatever it was, she just hoped it stopped soon. The only thing she had learned about such competitions was that someone always had to lose.

  And she didn’t want to lose anybody.

  5

  Three’s Company, a Cadre’s Assault

  “Come on, dance with me!”

  Eist looked dubiously at Yacrist, who was grinning at her like a cat who had eaten the canary.

  She’d gotten through the grand introductions, the polite milling about, and even the banquet without having to really deal with anyone outside of her friends. Yacrist came and went, going about his many obligations as the one everyone was celebrating, but all in all, Eist found she didn’t mind the grand affair.

  It helped that the food was absolutely delicious, and she had stuffed herself to the brim with rich meats and sweet fruits and anything else that caught her eyes.

  Everyone else seemed equally contented, and they dispersed to multiple bits of entertainment. There was a singer with a harp who stood in the center of the large banquet hall, singing like a celestial being and bringing some people to tears. Eist missed whole parts of her song when it fell below the range she was able to hear, but she enjoyed it nonetheless, kicking off one of her dainty little slippers to press her foot into the floor and feel the vibrations of the harp as they traveled across the stone.

  There was a team of dancers from Margaid that flipped around and looked both sleek and graceful. Eist was grateful that their music was loud and raucous. It was much easier to clap along with the thumping rhythm of the drums and the pounding of their feet.

  There was another set of musicians, equipped with instruments that Eist wasn’t familiar with. She saw someone mutter that they were from Baeldred, and she was reminded of how little she knew of her mother’s people. They played prettily, from what she could hear, but just like the singer, entire sections drifted away.

  Once, not too long ago, Eist would have been endlessly frustrated by her inability to catch every detail. But she seemed to have learned along the way that while her impairment could be inconvenient, it certainly wasn’t world-ending, and she could enjoy things in her own way.

  Between each performance were little bits done by the court jester. He was a slender, pale man with an easy smile and a hook for one of his hands. He didn’t seem to mind his disability, however, and he often had the audience laughing or groaning while they waited for the next display to set up. He spoke loudly enough for Eist to catch almost all of his jokes, most of which she understood. Nobody seemed to mind his lack of a hand as he emphatically gestured and she wondered if the whole of the family was just as understanding and kind as Yacrist was.

  When everything was all finished, and the last performer filed out, Eist was more than ready to call it a day and head back to the academy. But that was right when servants began clearing everything away and Yacrist eagerly led them into another room where music was already gently lilting out.

  And that was how she ended up with him looking to her so happily, hand extended expectantly.

  “I don’t know how,” she answered shortly, crossing her arms. She felt like too many eyes were on her, no doubt wondering why the handsome son of the Lord of the House was talking to a short, fat girl with an unsettling eye.

  “I’ll show you.”

  “I can’t really hear the music.” That wasn’t a lie. Just like the singer, it floated in an out of pitches that she could make out, sometimes being loud enough, and sometimes barely a whisper on the edge of her perception.

  “Come on,” he said lightly, taking a step toward her. “Don’t you trust me?”

  She narrowed her eyes as she looked up at his handsome face. “It’s not a matter of trusting you or not.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows at her in a pleading look. “Are you going to make me have to pull leverage because it’s my nameday?”

  “You would do that, wouldn’t you?”

  “If it works.”
/>   “Fine,” she said with a sigh. “But it is entirely your fault if I step on your feet.”

  “A fair enough price to pay.”

  He pulled her to him as the music swelled back into her hearing, and they began to move across the dance floor with all the other couples. Lords and ladies, dignitaries and foreign royals, they all floated with grace and practiced ease. All Eist could do was hold on with her head pointed right down at Yacrist’s feet.

  “My face is up here, you know,” he laughed gently, one of his hands squeezing hers.

  “Your face isn’t going to tell me what step to do,” she answered shortly, concentrating as he took a stride forward and she took one back. “I can’t hear the beat and there are too many people stepping around us at different times for me to be able to get it from the floor.

  “You don’t need to see my feet to know what I’m doing. You can feel it from my movement.”

  “Maybe you think I can, but I don’t think I have that ability.”

  “You never know unless you try.”

  Eist let out another sigh and risked it, looking up at Yacrist’s face. Just like she knew they would, his blue eyes were staring at her far to intensely.

  “What?” she asked, perhaps a little more tersely than she had meant.

  “Just thinking that you look just as beautiful as I thought you would.”

  Eist wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

  He laughed again at that, and she liked the sound. She liked it much more than those weighty compliments that made her feel so strange. So discomforted. No matter how bad her hearing was, she knew that she would always be able to hear that laugh cut through anything. “As gracious as always.”

  “You’re not friends with me for my graciousness.”

  “No,” he admitted softly. “No, I am not.”

  Something about his tone made her flush, and the air seemed to thicken between them. It hung, heavy and blanketing, and she felt Yacrist’s arm about her waist tighten as he leaned closer.

  But then the song ended, and the moment evaporated as people all around them parted and applauded the musicians playing against one wall.

  “Well, that was fun. Happy nameday, Yacrist. I think I’ll go refresh myself.”

  He caught her hand before she could even turn away. “Just one more dance?”

  She hesitated, wondering if she should say no or push through her discomfort, but before she could decide on her answer, someone else placed a hand on Yacrist’s shoulder.

  “If I may request the lady to dance,” he asked smoothly.

  Eist looked to the stranger with wide eyes. They looked to be only slightly older than her, with blond hair and green eyes surrounded by thick lashes. He was definitely dressed like a noble, and judging by how unfamiliar he looked, he wasn’t a dragon rider.

  Yacrist swallowed before his expression turned more serious. “Actually, I was just—”

  “Come now, you had first dance, now be a good host and don’t dominate the lady’s time.”

  “What if I don’t want to dance?” Eist said, yanking her hand from Yacrist’s and looking at the newcomer challengingly.

  “That would be quite a loss considering this is a party and you look so charming.” He winked at her, and she felt herself blush again. There was that feeling again that everyone was playing a game that she didn’t understand.

  “I believe that I h-had requested th-the next dance,” she heard Athar’s deep, rumbling voice behind her as his shadow washed over her like a blanket. She knew he was being loud enough for her to hear on purpose since she couldn’t watch his mouth for his words like she normally did. “If the lady permits it.”

  The blonde’s eyes widened as he looked up at the giant of a man and it took him a moment to recover. “Fair enough. Perhaps I would be lucky enough to occupy your time later.” He gave a short bow then quickly walked off, disappearing into the swirling bodies.

  “Right, well, thank you for the interference,” Yacrist said with a tight smile. “So, about that dance.”

  “Wait a moment,” Eist said, turning to look at Athar. He was still staring after the blond, his gaze intense. “I think it’s Athar’s turn.”

  “I’m sure he was just trying to get the guy to leave,” Yacrist said. “And it’s definitely appreciated.”

  “No,” Athar said quietly. “I wanted a dance.”

  “Oh.” Yacrist stood there a moment, and Eist could tell that the spoiled side of him wanted to demand more of her time, but in the end, he sighed and nodded. “Very well. I should go make my rounds anyway. I know Pricilla has been looking for a dance since last nameday.” He too gave a quick bow and wandered off, leaving Eist alone with a near giant.

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he muttered, his voice as low as ever.

  “I don’t mind,” she answered, holding her hands up like Yacrist had shown her.

  The smile that spread across his face was so sweet, it almost made her teeth hurt. Carefully, like she was made of glass, he pulled her nearer to him.

  It should have been ridiculous. His hand completely swallowed hers, and her head came to just under his chest. She craned her neck upward to look at him and was surprised to see that his eyes were closed, a look of contentment on his face as he led her through several simple steps to the lilting music.

  She watched him for a bit, taking in everything she could about his expression. It was a bit of a shame that he was always so silent, lurking in Ain’s shadow like the most faithful guard dog. “You’re entirely too shy for someone so handsome.”

  His eyes opened at that and he looked down at her with a slight pink to his cheeks. His tongue came out to lick his lips nervously. “I’m not handsome.”

  She let out a snort at that, because how could she not? “Are you kidding me? Look around. I bet nearly a dozen women are drooling over you right now.”

  He frowned, which surprised Eist. She knew both Ain and Yacrist enjoyed their prettiness, even if it could occasionally be inconvenient. “No, they’re not.”

  “What, you saying you don’t trust me?”

  He shook his head at that, not falling for her Yacrist-like trap. “No. You’re just too nice.”

  Another snort. “Nice? I’m known for being many things, but nice is not one of them.”

  “What do you mean?” he objected. “You’re one of the nicest people I know.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m clever and churlish and determined. But not nice.”

  “I don’t th-think you see yourself how others see you.”

  “Well, I guess the same could be said of you.”

  “I guess it could.”

  They both chuckled lightly, and they sank into a comfortable sort of silence during the rest of the dance. The music surrounded them, all floating and pretty and full of dreams. Pretty dreams, too. Not the dark, haunting ones that lingered too far into the daylight.

  When the song ended, they both stood there, looking at each other like they didn’t know what to do. Eist swallowed and gathered her thoughts enough to figure out what she wanted to say.

  “Would you be willing to walk me to the wall?” she asked. “I don’t feel like dealing with anybody else asking for another dance.”

  “Had your fill?” he answered with a wan smile. It looked nice on his features. Then again, probably anything would look nice on his features. They were nice features in general.

  She nodded, and he turned without question, leading her to a wall where she could sit on one of the many benches set out for those that wanted a rest.

  “Do you want company?” he asked, eyeing the seat next to her.

  “Actually,” she murmured, her gaze skittering around the perimeter of the room. On her survey, she saw Ain dancing with Dille, Yacrist with a lady in a truly resplendent gown, and a few other highborns from the academy. Feeling better that she now knew where everyone was, and no one would bother her for a moment, she looked to him uncertainly. “I wouldn’t mind a drink.�
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  “Of course. I can do that much for you.” He tilted his head then walked off, great strides taking him all the way out to the banquet hall where the refreshments were no doubt kept. Eist took the moment alone to take a deep breath and wonder what the heck was happening to her. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate and dismiss all of the thoughts that were so focused on how pretty everyone was suddenly. Dille, Yacrist, Ain, Athar. They were all suddenly ten times more distracting than they had ever been, and it didn’t make any sense.

  “Surely you are far too pretty and young to be seated like an old crow.”

  It took all of Eist’s willpower not to groan at the unfamiliar voice in front of her. Opening her eyes, she half-expected another noble and was surprised to see it was actually the jester in front of her.

  “I was born an old crow,” she retorted lightly, looking him up and down, deciding what kind of threat he could be if it came down to a fight. “And I don’t look pretty.” He opened his mouth to object, but Eist kept right on going. “Pretty is dangerous. It makes you stand out and people take interest. It’s better to be plain, or even ugly, and have people ignore you.”

  “Why, my friend, that only would be useful if you’re trying to get away with something.” There was a glint of mischievousness in his eyes that some people no doubt thought was charming, but there was something about him that made her a little uncertain.

  It was probably that he was clever. Clever people were always the ones to watch out for.

  “Isn’t everybody?” she responded, giving him a wolfish grin.

  “Oh, I like you! Tell me, fair lady, how is it I’ve never met you before?”

  “Because I’m not really a noble. I’m a dragon rider. Well, dragon rider hopeful.”

  “Ah, I see! One of the young master’s companions that I’ve heard so much about. Considering your complexion, I’m guessing you’re not the foreigner and instead are the one who took on an entire camp of bandits on their own?”