Age of Gold Book One to Three: To Claim a King, To Catch a Prince, To Tame a Rogue (Tales of Midgard 1)

by May Sage

  How inconvenient that he should be quite so gorgeous. And why were her lips so dry whenever he was about? She wet them, biting down on her bottom lip and licking some moisture onto them.

  Vincent bent before her and smiled amiably, holding her hand up to his lips. Her skin tingled and her insides melted, so, finally, she managed a scowl. What was his game now?

  “My lady.”

  “Am I, now? How presumptuous of you.”

  He chuckled, his laugh low and rumbly.

  “You will be,” he stated, making her snort in response. “I’ve come to claim you for the next half hour.”

  “That’s not quite how this works, sir. I believe a man may ask and a woman might answer favorably, should she wish to do so.”

  “Tell that to your sister,” Vincent replied. The violin started, indicating the beginning of a new dance. The barbarian just placed a hand around her waist and pulled her close like he had a right to do so. “Besides, I’m no man, ma’am. And dragons take their treasures.”

  She might have protested, if he hadn’t started moving right then, leading her into the most exhilarating of steps; she had no notion of the dance and she didn’t need to - he moved and following was second nature.

  He was so very close, she noticed; no one else held their partner right against their chest as he did. The whole inopportune thing messed with her ability to form coherent thoughts.

  “I don’t like you,” she informed him, somewhat childishly, but right now, it was the best she could do.

  “I don’t aim to be liked,” was his dismissive, indifferent answer.

  If he aimed to drive her insane instead, he was doing a marvelous job of it.

  “Are you drunk, sir?” she asked suddenly, catching a whiff of ale underneath his intoxicating musk.

  That would explain the change of attitude.

  The man laughed. “Not an easy feat for one of my kind. I’m quite sober. Not for lack of trying.”

  “Yet you went from glaring and threatening me to forcing me to dance.”

  “Forcing. Yes, I heard quite a few protests.”

  She was sticking to that term, whatever he said.

  “Besides,” he added, “that was hardly a threat. More of a promise.”

  “So, you maintain that you shall attempt to manhandle me if I don’t stop teasing you.”

  He chuckled low, vibrating against the front of her torso. “Manhandle. It’s a word for it.”

  “Which one would you use,” she shot back, all the while wondering when she’d had such a playful conversation with anyone.

  She wouldn’t start liking him, dammit. She just wouldn’t.

  “Spanking, perhaps. Flogging, if I find myself close to adequate equipment.”

  Her jaw dropped and she blushed. He either meant to shock her or check how much she knew of these things, no doubt. To an innocent, spanking and flogging might have seemed like terms of torture meant to intimidate her. Talia was very well schooled; she read every book she could get her paws on, including some that said just how and why gentlemen so inclined spanked and flogged ladies.

  “You’re flirting,” she accused him.

  He laughed. “Not very well, if you’re doubting it.”

  “You were glaring,” she reminded him insistently, as he’d avoided answering her about his change of heart the first time. “Now you’re flirting.”

  “Well, Talia Astria, I went from suspecting you may be a threat to accepting that you are.”

  That made no sense whatsoever.

  “I’m duty bound to come to the aid of any mortal realm in peril. If you don’t plan on attacking any human city without cause anytime soon, I’m no threat to you.”

  “Ah yes. Words of your Blessing travelled through the lands. And how does one become an Enchantress, exactly?”

  She turned her head, remaining silent. The man had earned the right to be ignored, after all.

  “I’ve read all sorts of things about it. Drugs to travel through your subconscious, confrontation with one’s darkness, all the while being overseen by some of the Old Sorcerers. Tell me, did your handler have a great silver beard?”

  Ignoring him wasn’t quite so easy now.

  “How did you…”

  “I have a thing for reading volumes that aren’t easily accessible. Particularly when I need to steal them from the Elders. What’s life without a challenge here and there?”

  Despite herself, she chuckled. “Well, it sounds like you know more about it than I do. Older Sorcerer, you say? Our Tutor was dreadfully mysterious, and knowledgeable, too. But I thought their search was the whole point - there was no living Sorcerer or Enchantress in Eartia, and they were seeking one.”

  “Hardly. There wasn’t a living Sorcerer found for a hundred years, certainly, but, to my knowledge, none of the Sorcerers or Enchantresses of old, have died yet. They all live in a hidden land, further north than your land.”

  She frowned. “There’s nothing north of the Northern Var. That’s the whole point in the name.”

  “Well, technically, there were five continents in Midgard, according to any text from the previous Era. I sincerely doubt they’ve all disappeared. Our knowledge suggests there may be wards around our land, keeping us in - or keeping some danger out. Either way, the Sorcerers are said to live in a place they call Avalon.”

  Damn him, because knowledge - and even fables - was her weakness. She couldn’t even feign indifference.

  “Why would they lie?” she asked.

  Vincent shrugged. “Depends on whom you ask. But Avalon is said to be the most beautiful of places; no evil can reach it. It may be that they hide it because they don’t wish for the rest of us to want to pack up our bags and head there. One must deserve their admission to Avalon, I hear. That would also explain why six rival kingdoms have somehow agreed on sharing an Enchantress. Do you really think they’d play nice, if they weren’t forced to by a higher power?”

  Her mind was spinning. “And why did you ask about my Tutor’s beard? He had one, by the way. Very long, and silver white, although he didn’t seem quite old enough to have earned it.”

  “There’re quite a few legends about him. I’ll have to show you the books, if I can steal them again.”

  By now, they were both smiling easily. When he wanted to, Vincent was quite charming.

  The song ended and he bowed. It was time to part ways now. She kept her hand on his arm and asked, “You do sound like you believe it.”

  “And so I do. Particularly since we’ve encountered a force that could only be an Enchantress, just a few weeks ago, before you were ever Blessed. If what they told us had been true, no living mage should have had as much power.”

  Talia frowned, concerned now. “Another Enchantress?” she asked, startled, and somewhat relieved. There was something quite daunting about being ‘the one.’

  “Yes, or so I assume. But this isn’t talk for pleasant evenings. I’m sure your sister will tell you everything on the morrow.”

  He moved again. She blushed, embarrassed to have held on to him when he clearly wished to be gone. The moment she moved her hand from his forearm, Vincent turned his head towards her, frowning.

  “We’d better part ways if you’re to find another partner for the next dance,” she reasoned, disliking the taste of those words on her tongue.

  The man stared at her for a long moment, before shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Let us stop talking nonsense and hunt down some refreshments before the waltz. I don’t think you’ve stopped dancing for two hours. You must be parched.”

  The man could be so dangerously charming when he wished to please that she was in danger of liking him well by the end of the evening.

  The Enchantress

  The next day, well past morning as none of them awoke early, they met in a comfortable drawing room. There was her sister, her new husband, Demelza, Vincent, another male and a female who were introduced as Nathos and Saskia. Saskia, blonde, and perh
aps as eerily beautiful as Aleria, looked like she played polo with severed heads for fun. Xandrie introduced her as one of her councilwomen.

  Nathos, however, seemed bored and wise. Talia identified him as the elegant man her sister had accosted the previous evening. Dragons didn’t age after reaching their maturity, so it was hard to tell how old they could be normally, but Talia would have sworn that Nathos was an ancient.

  She was curious, but too polite to raise the question. To her surprise, Aleria, generally the most well-mannered amongst them, pointblank asked, “How old are you?” She blushed as the man’s dark eyes focused on hers. “Apologies, I just…your eyes look different, particularly in the light of day.”

  “Are you referring to my wrinkles, miss?” asked Nathos.

  Talia couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he was joking; the rest of the party seemed downright shocked to see him crack a mischievous smile.

  “I’m soon to celebrate my first millennium, my lady. But the wrinkles I owe to the foolishness of young people these days. They get up to all sorts of trouble and keep me up at night.”

  There were no wrinkles to speak of anywhere on him, so perhaps the young people weren’t that foolish.

  That made her think of a concerning detail, though. “How does this work?” she asked, biting her lip when every gaze turned to her. “You two, when Xandrie will live a few decades and Rhey, forever.”

  Xandrie and her husband exchanged a glance. “I…I won’t,” said she. “I won’t just live a few decades. Not since I linked myself to Elza. But binding myself to a dragon would have been enough to extend my lifespan.”

  Her eyes widened. Her sister was now immortal? Her mind couldn’t quite wrap around that concept.

  The men, Demelza and Saskia, sat down to a game of cards, presumably to give the sisters some privacy. Then, Xandrie started to explain what had happened to her over the course of the last season.

  Talia listened to her sister’s tale, amused, impressed, and terrified when she realized how close she’d been to losing her a time or two. Poisons, vile she-dragons, evil sorcerers.

  Xandrie turned to Aleria, then. “You know, your support meant a great deal to me. That you would believe me when no one else would- I’ll never be able to repay that.”

  Aleria sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve given you reasons to believe I wouldn’t trust your words,” she told her, measuring each word. “I know I’m not…a warm person. Not since he left.”

  He. The only he her family talked of in such hushed tones. Their brother Damion, Aleria’s twin. It had been years since he’d disappeared. Aleria had taken it worse than any of them.

  A grave atmosphere engulfed them now that Damion had been mentioned, and Talia knew it was her time to talk, if only to change the subject.

  She had everyone’s attention; not just Xandrie and Aleria, who’d probed fruitlessly through their journey. The card players had grown silent and turned to them, shamelessly eavesdropping.

  “As you know,” said she, carefully thinking about each of her words, “I was called to the capital. We stayed three months, overall. It was marvelous, Xandrie - you would truly have loved it.” She turned to Aleria, placing her hand on the back of her sister’s hand. “So would you, despite the poor plumbing. There were other mages our age, all very friendly.”

  “Everyone is always friendly towards you,” Aleria said.

  “Just as everyone admires you,” she retorted.

  Her elder sister rolled her eyes. “See? She can’t meet anyone she doesn’t have a kind word for. But don’t let me interrupt.”

  “Well, we had a wonderful teacher, who talked of forbidden things. A different time, before the beginning of our era. He talked of strangers coming from the skies and shaping some of us into what we are. He talked of a war so dreadful most of the planet was left barren and some creatures became evil. That dark age precedes our own.”

  The card players had now abandoned their posts and closed in on them.

  “Do you think you could recall those lessons?” the Elder asked. “I’m old, but not old enough to have seen the Age of Kings.”

  “Is that how it’s called?” she asked, raising a brow.

  “Sure is. After the war, a terrible natural event practically plunged our world into the abyss; an advanced civilization stepped in. From what I’ve heard, the riders, such as your sister Xandrie, come from that era. At the time, they called them the Dragonlords, another word for the descendants of those sky travelers. They had magics - plenty of them. Most of those amongst the living who now wield magic come from lines linked to them. But some, occasionally, are given a little more of their bloods than others.”

  Nathor shrugged. “I checked on that just this morning. From what I gather, if the right couple mate, they occasional create children blessed with more gifts than others. Which would explain why, in your family, there’s a rider, an Enchantress…”

  “And I,” Aleria said, a little hotly perhaps, her eyes fixed on the floor.

  Yes, and her. Her beauty might be a burden, to her, but it was, nonetheless, quite unique.

  “But we’re digressing. Let’s return to your tale, miss.”

  Oh, she’d very much liked that they’d changed the topic of their conversation for a minute. Sighing, she continued.

  “After those weeks spent learning, there was a test; something I don’t quite understand, involving machines and drugs, and perhaps even hypnosis.”

  She shot Vincent a look; the man kept his mouth shut.

  “At the end of that test, they said I was an Enchantress. I don’t quite know how, but since then, my spells are quite a bit more powerful. For example, the way I froze you all just yesterday?” she smiled. “Just a little binding spell cast in half a second. I’ve tried it a time or two, in our travels, when gentlemen were being a little too friendly towards Aleria.”

  “A very useful spell,” her sister admitted.

  “So, that’s it. Just a test?”

  She hadn’t lied directly; just omitted a little detail, for how was she supposed to say that she had made peace with her own deviousness.

  Closing her eyes, she could feel it just there, carefully watching her again. The shadow was with her at every step now.

  “A test that made me confront my own subconscious. My own fears. Handling it properly unlocked my potential, from what I understand.”

  Again, a half-truth, but a truth, nonetheless.

  The, she turned to Aleria. “You’ve attended and helped countless births back home. Perhaps, if Demelza were to be favorable to the idea, you could try to see if you can be of help?”

  Her sister flushed. “Malek is very far from Farden, and I wouldn’t call myself an expert,” she cautioned, “but if I can be of any aid during our stay, I certainly shall.”

  “During your stay?” cried Xandrie. “Surely, you don’t mean to return home! To Malek? To the smallest, most insignificant hamlet, where no one cares for…” she caught herself. “Of course. Silly me. Our parents do care for you.” She laughed at herself. “Never mind me, I’m simply projecting.”

  Talia exchanged a glance with Aleria.

  “I’m not returning to Malek. Our parents do care a great deal about what we can bring to our family’s good name; I wouldn’t say they care for me. For any of us. Not since Damion left us.”

  She didn’t say ‘die’, although their brother was most probably gone from this world. None of them ever pronounced that word. Not having seen his body allowed them to half-delude themselves, and they chose to do so.

  “So, where do you plan on going?”

  Aleria shrugged. “I’ve never traveled much, until now. There’s a big world to discover. I’m sure I’ll find my place.” She dropped her gaze. “Besides, if there’s a chance…”

  She left it at that and nothing else needed to be said. If there was a chance that their brother was alive somewhere, she would endeavor to find him.

  Talia added, “And I’m bound to every kin
gdom; if there’s a call for aid, I’m to set off immediately. I was thinking of returning to Leyres and making my location known.”

  “Now that’s quite ridiculous. Aleria, at least, had a half-baked excuse. If she’s taken by wanderlust, she’s very welcome to go and consider this kingdom her home when she’s tired of traveling. But if you’re to claim a home, it may as well be here.”

  Xandrie turned to her husband, who took her hand and inclined his head, before looking back to Talia.

  “Your being pledged to the mortal realms is of no consequence. We wouldn’t keep you to ask your help; my wife’s sister is family.” He said it like it settled the issue in his mind. “You’ll always have a home with us. Here at the palace or anywhere you choose in our kingdom.”

  She smiled shyly. Truthfully, she hadn’t even considered the possibility of actually staying in these foreign lands; dragons were known to be territorial, dangerous, and wary of strangers. But they were opening their arms to her. It meant more than she could say. And it also solidified her resolve.

  When she’d listened to her sister’s tale, she immediately realized where her duty lay. There was a powerful creature intending to cause them harm - otherwise, why would she have pulled down their defense? They couldn’t do a thing against such force but she certainly could; or at least, she could try her best.

  Talia wasn’t stupid, so she didn’t voice her intentions, but as the newest Enchantress, her duty was to attempt to vanquish it when it appeared again.

  The reality of it crashed down on her. Now, it wasn’t just stories of great deeds told in a classroom. She was to set off and face a power no one had quite understood.

  She forced a smile. “I’d be glad to stay,” she said - another half-truth. She would be glad, if she could.

  But she had to head out. And truth was, she might not come back.

  The Shop

  The hour spent in the king’s drawing room a few days ago, listening in to the sisters’ talk, had been quite enlightening. He knew a lot more about Talia at the end of the meeting. For one, the woman was no liar; quite a feat, for someone who’d avoided telling the truth at all turns. Suddenly, she was most definitely up to something, something she wouldn’t disclose.