Queen of Dragons

by J. A. Armitage

  My maid Dahlia took one look at me and ordered me into the bath right away. She was a plump woman of about forty with permanently ruddy cheeks and a friendly smile. Not that her smile fooled me. She'd been my maid and governess since I was born, and I knew, behind that mild exterior, she was smart as a whip and took no-nonsense. As she worked on lathering up my hair, chattering away about her son who was failing in school, my mind drifted back to the stranger I'd seen earlier, making my stomach churn even more.

  Once my bath was over, Dahlia worked on my hair, brushing the knots out and doing the best she could with my unruly curls. Next, she moved onto my face, expertly applying makeup. She really was an all-rounder, and that's why she'd spent so many years looking after me. She could turn her hand to anything. She was the only person in the whole kingdom my mother trusted to do my makeup for me. She certainly didn't trust me with it. Apparently the "just drawn on by a four-year-old with a crayon" look was not what my mother wanted, so Dahlia did it all. I happily let her.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to rid myself of the energy buzzing around my body. My heart was beating much quicker than normal, and the bath had failed to put me at ease. No matter what I did, the image of the man with the long silver hair kept coming back to me. The way he'd looked at me with such disdain. It hadn't been directed at Remy, despite the fact it was Remy he'd mentioned. He'd been looking at me; his piercing pale purple eyes had drawn me in. Now that I'd had time to think about it, I wondered if he'd used some kind of magic on me. It would explain the pounding in my chest and the electricity buzzing through my veins.

  "There! All finished. You look beautiful."

  I opened my eyes and checked out my appearance. I had to admit that when I wasn't covered in an inch of dirt, I did manage to look half-decent. Dahlia had shaded my eyes with a pale pink to match my dress and painted my lips a nude pink. I looked at my face, and two golden-ringed irises looked back at me, reminding me that although I was the heir to the throne of Draconis, I was just as much an outsider as the fae man I'd seen earlier.

  In all my travels, and I had traveled a lot, I was yet to come upon anyone who had eyes quite as unique as mine. Not even the amethyst-eyed faery I'd seen before was as unusual as I was in the eye department. I'd met a few fae in my time, and they often had jewel-colored eyes. Yes, they were rare and in the kingdom of Draconis, even rarer, but my eyes were the rarest of them all.

  After pulling the dress over my head and having the bows at the back fastened by Dahlia, my mother appeared at the door. She had also changed for the occasion...whatever it was.

  As usual, she looked stunning, her beautiful golden hair tied back in a simple bow and a dress that was far less poufy than mine.

  "Do I get to know who it is I'm meeting yet?" I asked, keenly aware that Dahlia was pressed up against me, almost as eager as I was to know what this was all about.

  "Come with me," Mother said, taking my hand and ignoring my question entirely.

  I followed her through the castle, the clack-clack-clack of her shoes echoing off the walls. She took me to the drawing room, the most comfortable room in the castle with pink upholstered chairs and beautiful tapestries hand-stitched by my mother hanging on the walls.

  It was unusual to receive guests here. This was a room set aside for family only. My father stood to greet us as we walked in. He was still a handsome man, his dark hair showing the faintest signs of grey at the temples. The way his eyes lit up as my mother walked in the room made me slightly jealous. No one had ever looked at me as intently as my father did my mother every time he saw her. They'd been married eighteen years, and they were still like newlyweds.

  I wished that one day, someone would look at me that way. No one usually noticed me at all if mother was around.

  But someone did look at you that way only today!

  A voice sounded in my head, but it was wrong. The faery had looked at me with intense eyes, but there had been no pleasure in them.

  "Sit down Azia," my father asked gently, sneaking a quick reassuring glance at my mother.

  Uh oh, this didn't bode well.

  "This is important. You turned eighteen a while back, and we both think that it's time for you to be more active in royal life."

  Uh, huh. "I am active Father," I replied, finding a seat on the elegant couch next to my mother and trying to figure out a way to sit comfortably with all the layers of skirt beneath my ass. "I attend all the royal parties and come with you on all the royal travels."

  My father nodded his head, his expression turning serious. "I understand that Azia, but being a queen is a whole lot more than trips and parties, and one day you will be queen. We are only one of twelve other kingdoms, thirteen if you include Urbis itself. Being the ruler of the kingdom requires a delicate balance of strength and diplomacy. As you know, I've been very fortunate during my reign; there has been peace in the kingdoms, but it wasn't always that way. Before I saved your mother, Draconis was in the grip of a terrible curse."

  "But you saved her and the kingdom by kissing her." I knew the story by heart. It was famous. Even I, with not an ounce of romance in my bones, loved the story. The story of Sleeping Beauty and her brave prince.

  "Yes," my father nodded his head, thoughtfully. "But the truth is, something else happened at that time. Something that, to this day, no one understands. I'm not so arrogant to believe that I saved your mother. I'm glad it was me, but the truth was, anyone could have gotten through the brambles to kiss her."

  My mother put her hand on his arm in a gesture of love. "Don't be so modest, darling. It was true love's kiss that awoke me. No one but you could have done that."

  He gave her a smile that made my heart melt, and my stomach heave in equal measures. It really should be illegal how mushy these two were for each other.

  "Maybe," he agreed. "I know a lot of people had tried before me, but why did I get through? Something happened at that time. It didn't just affect our kingdom. There had been widespread disquiet and war for years, and in the week I saved your mother, it was like all the bad in the world was vanquished. Anyway, I digress. Things have been very easy for me. It is always easy to reign when the people in the kingdom are happy, but things might not always be this way, and I need to prepare you for any eventuality."

  "You want me to learn about ruling the kingdom?"

  My heart took an unexpected leap in my chest. I'd been thinking about so many horrible things that could happen that I'd not prepared myself for something good. I wanted to learn more. I could never equal the level of beauty my mother possessed, but hopefully, I'd measure up in the strength and capability of my father. Before now, leading the kingdom had been something in the distant future, something I'd never been interested in, but now the possibilities seemed endless. One day, I would be queen of Draconis, and my parents were going to teach me how.

  "Indeed I do,"

  "Thank you, father!" I stood and kissed him on the cheek, but he brought me into a hug. As his warm arms wrapped around me, all my fears from earlier dissipated.

  "So who was it you both wanted me to meet? A tutor of some kind?"

  I saw a look pass between my mother and father as he let me go.

  "Something like that."

  Something like that? Uh, oh. What did that mean?

  "I should go and see where he is," My father stood up, his finger and thumb rubbing together. "I don't believe he's arrived yet. Darling, could you go and organize tea?"

  My mother couldn't have gotten up faster if she had tried. She hurried out of the door, pursued by my father, leaving me alone with my anxiety. This was no tutor I was meeting, so who was it, and why had my mother practically bolted for the door at the earliest opportunity?

  I waited for ten whole minutes, nerves frayed. The lack of information on who I was to meet was crippling. Why the secrecy? When my father eventually came back through the door, my heart did a lap around my rib cage, but he was alone, his face set in a look of confusion. "I'm afraid there has
been a mix-up. The gentleman I was going to introduce to you has not arrived. I'm sorry for getting you all dressed up for nothing, Azia. I know how much you hate all the pomp that goes with these things."

  These things? What things? He'd still not told me what exactly we were doing. My mother chose this moment to come through the door, a loaded silver tray with a teapot and three cups on it.

  When she saw my father, she adopted the same look of confusion. She placed the silver tray upon the table, then turned her attention to my father.

  "Where is he?"

  "I've just had word from a servant boy from the town that he is late and will see us tomorrow."

  "That's very rude of him," my mother said. If there was anything she hated (apart from me being constantly covered in dirt), it was tardiness.

  My father shrugged. "Can't be helped. You head off to bed now, Azia. I'll take a trip into town and see what happened."

  I trudged back to my room, unsure of what to think. Both my parents were acting strangely, and neither was particularly forthcoming as to why. The room was dark, which was unusual. Dahlia usually left the candles burning for me. I walked to the window and opened the curtains to let a little moonlight in. A shiver ran down my spine as I caught the sound of someone else breathing and the feeling of being watched gripped me as intensely as it had out in the field earlier. Holding my own breath, I strained my ears to hear it, but there was only the sound of one of the guards coughing outside. I felt for the matches, gazing out into the courtyard as I did. It looked as it always did, lit only by a sliver of light from the crescent moon. Two guards stood by the portcullis, and as I watched them, one of them coughed again making me relax a little. Apart from the guards, the courtyard was empty.

  "You won't find anyone of interest out there."

  My heart lurched in my chest at the voice coming from behind me. Turning quickly, I let go of the window that slammed closed behind me. It was him! The faery I'd seen earlier was now sitting on my bed as if he owned the place. His devastating beauty captivated me, leaving me breathless despite the fact he held his sword aloft, aimed directly at my throat. This was no social call. He was here to slit my throat.

  2nd January

  "How did you get in here?" I whispered, my voice tense, my breathing ragged. Having a sword held to my throat was not something I usually enjoyed. Hell, I wasn't enjoying it now.

  In the moonlight, he was more beautiful than ever, but that didn't stop the adrenaline rushing through me. My mind whirled as my fight or flight impulse stalled. I could run, but to do that I would have to run past him. Fighting was my only option. Unfortunately, he still had that beautiful sword in his hand, and I had no doubt he knew how to use it. My own sword was old, stolen months ago from the armory in the basement of the castle. My mother would have pitched a fit if she knew I had it, so I kept it under my bed. The bed that he was currently sitting on. The only other swords I owned were the trick swords I'd had made for Remy who wanted to learn to fight almost as much as I did. Fat lot of good they would be against the thing of beauty the faery held in his hand.

  Talking of things of beauty, the fae's eyes danced in the little light there was, eyes that pierced me, pulling me in. He was utterly devastatingly gorgeous only spoiled slightly by the fact that it seemed he was here to kill me. That kinda thing could really put a dampener on any relationship.

  Scanning the room quickly, I picked up the only thing currently in reach. The candlestick by my side. Pulling the unlit candles from the top of their holder, I held it out toward him as I would if I was holding a sword. Except it wasn't a sword. It had three holders on one end that held the candles and a stand at the bottom to stop it from toppling over. It was far from ideal, but it was long, and with luck, I could inch my way around him.

  He watched me intently as I walked around the bed to the door, but he didn't move except to follow me with his sword. Instead, he studied my movements, watching me intently like a feline about to pounce, the line of his sword never wavering. My hand grasped the door handle at exactly the same time that his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He moved so quickly that I almost missed what was happening. The door handle turned, then stilled as a flash of light came down between the faery and me. My breathing increased as he moved his face to mine.

  "This isn't quite the welcome I expected," he said, pinning my back to the door and holding his sword to my neck once again. His breath warmed my cheek; he was that close. I sucked in a breath of my own, trying not to lose it. He smelled faintly of wood and leather. He let his gaze fall down my body, and, all at once, I became aware that only the thin, gauzy fabric of my gown separated us. His tongue licked his lips as he took me in, holding me defenselessly to the door. Not that I could move if I'd have wanted to. There was something holding me back. Even if he didn't have his sword to my throat, my muscles had completely forgotten how to work, and the energy I'd felt earlier coursed through me. Not any energy. Fae magic.

  My muscles tensed as he pulled my gown tightly enough to see the shape of my body, the curves of my breasts and hips. I followed his gaze to the floor, where the candleholder was lying uselessly in two pieces. His sword had cut through the metal like butter.

  His energy was overwhelming, but I had to try to fight. I didn't know why he was here, and I wasn't prepared to find out. Pulling my leg back as far as I could, I put all the strength I had left into it, kicking forward until my knee connected with his leg. Not quite where I was aiming for, but it took him by surprise. He pulled back, and as his sword left my throat, I dove down to the floor and slithered to the bed where my own sword was hidden. Now, my sword was no match for his, but it was forged from the metal mined by the dwarves under the Fire Mountains, which meant it was strong and held a magic of its own, not that I knew how to embrace that magic. I'd never trained as a warrior the way Ash and Hollis had, but I'd watched them intently, copying their moves, practicing where no one could see me.

  The intruder seemed surprised by the turn of events, but there was no fear in his eyes. If anything, he seemed to relish the challenge.

  I lashed out at him, trying to quell my own fear. A shaking hand had no place in a sword fight, but play fights with Remy aside, this was my first. He swiped my sword away with mild irritation, the way one might swat a fly. He wasn't even trying, and yet, I was giving him everything I had. It was woefully obvious that I was no match for him. While I was trying every move I knew, he'd not even broken a sweat. At one point, I swear, the fae bastard yawned.

  "Are we done yet?" he asked lazily. Before he'd uttered the last syllable, my sword vanished into thin air with a flick of his hand, leaving me with nothing to defend myself but the scream upon my lips.

  I don't know why I hadn't thought of it earlier. Maybe I wasn't the swordswoman I thought I was, but there were two guards on the end of every corridor who did know how to sword fight. Two guards who would be here in a moment at the sound of my screams.

  As he realized what I was about to do, the lazy attitude he'd shown moments before left him, and he rushed at me, knocking me over onto the bed, his hand clasped firmly over my mouth.

  I breathed deeply through my nose, trying to fend off the rising panic at this crazy faery, lying directly on top of me. His eyes softened a bit, but he didn't take his hand from my mouth.

  "Have you had your fun now?"

  I glared at him, my stomach tightening as he pressed in closer, the weight of him crushing me. Up close, I saw that his eyes were framed by lashes so dark and thick that not even Dahlia with her extensive makeup knowledge would be able to recreate them. His skin was pale and flawless, and if it weren't for the amusement in his purple eyes, I'd have thought him made of marble.

  "I'm not here to hurt you," he growled, "but with a welcome like that, I might change my mind."

  I struggled against him, which only served to amuse him more. He pulled my arms up above my head, and I thought, for a second, he was going to kiss me. Let him try. I'd bite his tongue ri
ght out of his mouth. He didn't, though. He merely waited, watching me silently.

  It took me a good few seconds to put my thoughts in order to speak to him, but I had to wait until he took his hand from my mouth to say anything.

  "I can see you have something to say, but until you promise me that you won't do anything stupid such as scream or spit in my face, I won't take my hand away, do you understand?"

  I nodded as much as I could with a hand over my mouth. He lessened his grip, and I breathed in, grateful of the cold night air.

  "What the hell do you think you are?" I hissed.

  He laughed. "What am I? I think you already know." He tipped his head slightly to the side, exposing one of his pointed ears. "I think the more pertinent question should be, who I am."

  I wasn't in the mood for games, but as he still had my hands clasped together over my head and the weight of his body on top of me, I decided that playing along was my only option at this point.

  "Fine," I muttered through gritted teeth. "Who are you?"

  He sat up, pulling me with him so that we were next to each other on the bed. Every part of me wanted to run for the door, but as I'd already seen, it would be a pointless endeavor.