The Dragon Bride (The Dragon Bride Chronicles Book 1)

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The Dragon Bride (The Dragon Bride Chronicles Book 1) Page 5

by Sarah Hawke


  “I will not tell anyone,” I insisted, resisting the urge to leap to Charisse’s defense. The prince had always detested her for reasons I couldn’t fathom.

  “Good,” Lysandre said. “Instructor Vaylin doesn’t know the full details of the mission, and neither does anyone else. She believes we’re planning a new offensive against the Corsairs, which a good enough cover for the moment. The navy will supply a ship to intercept the Corsair captain, but they won’t know any details beyond that. If we do have a mole, their ability to pass on information will be limited.”

  “We need to try and expose them,” I said. “There must be some way to—”

  “His Majesty already has a plan in motion,” Lysandre interrupted. “You need to focus on your own mission. There is no room for error here, Asha. We may not get another opportunity like this for some time. “

  I nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

  “Then we’re finished here for now. Report to Instructor Vaylin immediately. I will inform you when I’ve compiled our reports on the Corsairs.”

  “As you command, mistress,” I said, offering her a full bow. I left the room and made it halfway up the stairs before I sensed Jorel following me. Bracing myself for the worst, I stopped once I reached the top and slowly turned around.

  “Is something wrong, my prince?”

  “Yes,” he said. “You.”

  He stepped in close enough that I had to lift my chin to maintain eye contact. At six and a half feet tall, he towered over me and every other Dragon Bride, but I had never given him the satisfaction of backing down or averting my gaze. Despite his power and authority, I had always found his mother far more intimidating.

  “You made your opinion quite clear,” I said after a moment. “You don’t believe I’m capable of handling this mission.”

  “I’m not sure you’re capable of handling any mission,” Jorel growled. “I don’t know what my father sees in you. The years must finally be taking a toll on his mind.”

  “The Dragon God is immortal, and his power is infinite. You dare to question his wisdom?”

  Jorel scoffed. “You really are a loyal cunt, aren’t you? Stupid…but loyal. That must be all father cares about these days.” The prince smiled darkly as dragged his knuckles across my breastplate. “Though I suppose a nice pair of tits never hurt. I wonder: does he even look at you when he takes you, or does he just bend you over like a hound?”

  I swatted his hand away and turned, but before I could leave he grabbed my shoulder and slammed me up against the wall. “Have a care, Dragon Bride,” he hissed. “Perhaps you need a reminder that everything my father owns also belongs to me.”

  “You are not emperor yet,” I said, resisting the urge to strike him. I couldn’t possibly overpower him, not even with the master’s power coursing through me. Besides, he wanted me to start something—it would give him all the excuse he needed to throw me off this mission and maybe even lock me in the dungeon.

  “How lucky for you,” Jorel said eventually. He held me up against the wall for another moment before he relaxed his grip and backed away. “If you fail in this task, you had better hope the Vin Aetheri kill you. Because if they don’t, I will.”

  I stood there stiffly while he stormed away, more resolved than ever to reward my master’s faith in me. The Dragon God still ruled Narthil, and I was his loyal Bride. I was not going to fail him. Not now, not ever.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned and continued towards the academy.

  Chapter Four

  The academy was smaller than the palace but no less opulent. The walls had been chiseled from pure white marble, and the bannisters and fountains were inlaid with gems and precious metals. There were at least twice as many servants as acolytes, all of whom were female. Aside from His Majesty and the Crown Prince, no man was allowed inside the academy under punishment of death.

  The facility had everything young acolytes needed, from the dormitories to the commissary to the training grounds and the libraries. I had spent virtually my entire life within these walls, though I’d only been in here a handful of times since I’d passed my trials two years ago. I was surprised how hard the old memories hit me when the gate slowly cranked open. Some of them, like my time with Charisse, brought a wistful smile to my lips. Most of the rest did not.

  I walked through the entry foyer and into the central training yard where twenty of the older acolytes were busy honing their martial combat skills. At a glance, the girls here all were fifteen or sixteen, which meant that in a few months they would be ready to face their own trials. I wondered if any of them truly knew what that meant. Charisse and I had been completely blind-sided when Instructor Vaylin had explained the stakes: twenty acolytes, paired off into couples for a final duel. The winners were promoted to Dragon Brides. The losers—other girls I had spent literally every single day with for a decade—were all dead.

  I can still see her face when I close my eyes. Her name was Torah, and she had more freckles than anyone in our class. When we were seven, we got in a fight over an apple and both ended up caned. When we were ten, we played a different prank on Charisse every day for a whole month. When we were fifteen, I kissed her for whole hour after the lights went out. When we were sixteen, I drove my sword through her gut and watched her bleed out in front of me while Lysandre congratulated me on my victory.

  Burying the memory was even harder than I expected, but I refused to show weakness in front of the acolytes. As always, I had to remind myself that all this brutality wasn’t borne from cruelty or sadism, but unfortunate necessity. Narthil had many enemies, and the corrupt rulers of the Five Kingdoms would stop at nothing to destroy my master and enslave all of Varellon. The Dragon Brides were the last line of defense between hope and oblivion. Sacrifices had to be made.

  “Sister Asha,” Instructor Vaylin greeted me, a cold smile on her lips. “You honor my students with your presence.”

  “The honor is mine, mistress,” I replied. “I’m eager to learn from you again.”

  She leaned forward and kissed me. Our sarcasm probably wasn’t obvious to the acolytes, but I could see the derision in her eyes and taste it on her lips. Vaylin had hated me ever since I’d defeated her in a sparring match not long before my graduation, and I could tell she still hadn’t let it go.

  “I was surprised when the First Wife asked me to train you again,” Vaylin said when she finally pulled away. “You were the best duelist in your class. Have your skills waned already?”

  I forced a smile. “No. But as you are so fond of saying, a true warrior never stops learning.”

  “Indeed,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “Hopefully you can teach my students something in the process. I’m sure they’re eager to see one of their contemporaries in action. Come—let me introduce you.”

  I nodded and followed her. In many ways, Vaylin was the personification of the perfect Dragon Bride. Tall, statuesque, and whipcord lean, she had mastered every melee weapon imaginable from swords to polearms and everything in between, and she could channel the master’s power to enhance her strength and reflexes to superhuman levels. She was also quite lovely—as a young girl, I had envied her long blonde hair and high cheekbones.

  She had been a brutal and relentless teacher, but I’d always had something of a soft spot for her when I reflected on just how much she had taught me over the years. And I would never forget the look on her face after I smacked her down in the battle circle. In her ten years as the academy’s martial instructor, no one else had ever defeated her before or since…

  “Lysandre wants me to teach you some Luvani fighting styles,” Vaylin said once we reached the center of the yard. The acolytes were still busy sparring with each other and barely paid us any attention. “I can’t imagine why. Luvani techniques offer precious few advantages these days.”

  “I’m not sure,” I lied. I didn’t know if Vaylin was trying to bait me into revealing more about my mission or not, but I decided to play it safe and
just feign ignorance.

  “Well, Luvani techniques emphasize speed and balance over brute force. They’re still a favorite of pirates and mercenaries, but they waste our natural strength. The master’s power gives us many advantages.”

  “Yes, though it never hurts to understand your enemies.”

  “Indeed.” Vaylin eyed me for a moment, a dark twinkle in her eye. “I suppose we might as well get started.”

  She pivoted around to face the acolytes and cracked the end of her staff against the ground. Their collective discipline, as always, was impressive. Every girl spun around in near unison, even the ones who were obviously in pain thanks to defeats in the battle circle. They looked so innocent, so young, that for a moment I couldn’t believe only three short years had passed since I had been one of them…

  “As promised, today the First Wife has arranged a special presentation for you,” Vaylin said. “You will learn by watching one of your future sister-wives in combat. She was the top student in her class, though I suspect that several of you could make short work of her.”

  I clenched my jaw and forced myself to stay calm. The girls were all staring at me, some with awe and wonder but a most with genuine contempt. I could only imagine what Vaylin had already told them about me. My hands clenched behind my back so tightly I almost crushed my own fingers.

  “You’ve already met her sparring partner,” Vaylin said, gesturing to the opposite side of the courtyard. “Bride Rhyssa has kindly offered her services once again.”

  My stomach sank. I had originally chosen Bride Rhyssa to carry out this mission due to her superior experience, Lysandre’s words looped through my head. It was precisely then, when Rhyssa strode up to the edge of the battle circle, that I realized I had just walked into a trap.

  “Lysandre said you were going to teach me Luvani fighting styles,” I said, trying desperately not to clench my teeth. “She never said anything about an audience.”

  “Unlike you, Rhyssa continued her training after graduation,” Vaylin said. Her expression remained neutral, but I could see the sadistic twinge in her eyes. “She is proficient in all the eastern fighting styles, including Luvani. And as for the audience…” She shrugged. “I would never pass up an educational opportunity.”

  I turned and glared at Rhyssa. She almost my exact height and weight with the short brown hair, amber eyes, and olive skin that were so common in the Fold. She was only a few years my senior, and she had crushed her class nearly as thoroughly as I had crushed mine. Such competition made us natural rivals for the master’s affections, and the fact he apparently abandoned her when I had come of age only made the situation worse.

  “We’ll start by seeing if you remember any of the Karissian techniques,” Rhyssa said, grabbing a crystalline practice sword from the rack and tossing it towards me. “Single blade, quick footwork, developed for women and small men.”

  I caught the handle in mid-air and stared down at the dull blade. The weight, the texture, even the smell—they all threatened to unlock another drove of memories I preferred to keep buried.

  The day one of the older students broke three of my fingers. The night I got caught training with Charisse after curfew and ended up pilloried for a whole day. The week I spent naked and alone in the mountains armed only with this dull sword to defend and feed myself…

  “Remember, a Dragon Bride’s strength is not merely her magic and devotion, but her strength and adaptability,” Vaylin said. “By the time you are finished here, you be a master of each and every weapon behind me. They all have a place and a purpose, but you will not always have the luxury of preparation. You must learn to adapt. You must learn to compensate and overcome any disadvantage. Sisters Asha and Rhyssa will now demonstrate.”

  She nodded at Rhyssa, and the other woman retrieved a spear from the rack before she turned back around to face me. I smiled knowingly when she settled into a defensive posture. So this was their plan: Vaylin and Rhyssa wanted to humiliate me in front of the acolytes. Lysandre might not have even known what they were doing—the First Wife was many things, but pettiness was usually beneath her. Vaylin and Rhyssa, on the other hand…

  Still, if that was the game they wanted to play, then so be it. Rhyssa was good, but not that good. Superior reach wouldn’t be enough to save her.

  “Begin,” Vaylin said.

  I immediately lunged forward and took the offensive, swatting aside the tip of her spear and attempting to score a quick hit. She didn’t fall for it, of course—she knew how aggressive I was, and she was probably content to wait for me to make a mistake and overextend. Unfortunately for her, I had no intention of letting that happen.

  I exploited every opening she gave me without sacrificing my own defenses. The practice blade sparked whenever it struck her armor, jolting her with enough electricity to simulate the pain of a real wound. None of my hits were particularly severe on their own, but the cumulative effect was enough to slow Rhyssa down and disrupt her footwork. I pushed even harder, switching to a two-handed grip and slamming my blade down into the center of her weapon—

  At which point her muscles surged with magic and she promptly hurled me aside like an ogre swatting a goblin. I crashed into the sand at the edge of the battle circle and wheezed as the air rushed from my lungs. Gritting my teeth in annoyance, I kicked out my legs and used the momentum to flip back to my feet. Rhyssa was smiling almost giddily, and I tapped into my power and flooded by own muscles with magic…

  “Stop!” Vaylin scolded. “No sorcery, just weapons.”

  I turned and glared at her. “But she just—”

  “The point of this lesson is to demonstrate how a fully-trained Dragon Bride can adapt to an unfair situation,” Vaylin reminded me. “That is why Lysandre sent you here, isn’t it? To learn how to fight without relying upon magic?”

  I could almost hear the jaws of her trap swinging shut. Defeating Rhyssa when she had superior reach was one thing; defeating her when she could call upon the master’s power and I could not was quite another. She would be twice as fast and three times as strong.

  Still, I had no intention of conceding, and I wasn’t about to run back to Lysandre with my tail tucked between my legs. I wasn’t out of tricks just yet…

  “Come on, then,” I said, offering her a brief salute with my blade.

  Rhyssa lowered her spear and charged. I barely managed to spin out of the way before she impaled me, and she followed up her lunge with an arching, head-level whirl that forced me to duck and roll halfway across the ring. She pressed her attack, refusing to give me a heartbeat of respite, and it was clear that she expected me to adopt a defensive fighting style—any sane warrior would have when faced with a stronger, faster opponent. My only hope of winning was to survive as long as possible and pray she gave me opening.

  But I wasn’t fighting this duel to win, at least not anymore, and I certainly wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of slowly beating me down in front of twenty gawking acolytes. Rhyssa could have her victory if she wanted it. All I cared about was making sure she bled a little in the process.

  I maintained my aggressive posture, thrusting and slashing with a two-handed grip even though I couldn’t possibly break through her guard. She punished me every time I overextended, and her jabs were so powerful they nearly pierced my armor. Electricity surged through my muscles every time she struck, but I grit my teeth and pushed past the pain. I fought on and on even when she swept out my legs and nearly skewered me into the ground.

  It wasn’t until at least a minute later, when my right leg had been rendered almost useless, that Rhyssa’s arrogance finally got the better of her. I saw her eyes glimmer in anticipation of breaking me with one last humiliating strike, and I even shifted to a one-handed grip and let my left arm sag to lure her in. She lunged forward and smacked the sword from my fingers, then thrust straight for my exposed chest—

  And missed. With the last of my strength, I whirled inside her reach and slammed my left elb
ow into her jaw hard enough to crack bone and knock out at least two of her teeth. I heard the acolytes’ collective gasp even over Rhyssa’s pained shriek, and I couldn’t help but smile as I pummeled her breastplate with my gauntlets. I tried to tackle her, but I knew it was already too late. Once she recovered, she trivially broke my grapple and threw me across the battle circle like a ragdoll. My left wrist snapped the instant I hit the ground, and by the time I stopped rolling my vision had nearly gone black. I still felt her looming over me like a black cloud of rage, and I wondered distantly if she might actually try to kill me…

  “Enough!” Vaylin shouted.

  The pain in my arm was so intense I had no business smiling, but I did anyway. The red spots clouded my eyes eventually faded, and when I rolled over I had the satisfaction of watching Rhyssa picking her teeth out of the sand.

  “The master’s power can destroy your enemies or shield you from harm,” Vaylin said as she turned back to the acolytes. “But it is your faith and determination that will allow you to triumph even when you are overmatched. Trust your training. Trust your sisters. But most of all, trust that the master has chosen you to serve him for a reason. Now go—we’ll discuss this further tonight.”

  I remained prone in the sand as the girls walked off to the commissary. Most of them avoided looking at me, but the knowing smiles of the ones who dared make eye contact made the whole thing worth it. They were old enough and smart enough to know what had just happened. Hopefully they were also old enough and smart enough to see through the Vaylin’s bullshit. They could trust in their training and their master, but their sisters…

  Well, they would all learn the limits of sisterhood soon enough.

  Chapter Five

  The healers in the academy infirmary didn’t set my wrist, bandage the cuts on my arm, or even apply salves to the numerous electrical burns beneath my armor. They weren’t cruel or capricious—each of these women had helped me numerous times during my long years of training—they simply recognized that my regenerative powers would heal me far faster than traditional medicine.

 

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