Shit.
He winced.
“Remember, no swearing at court.”
“I already told you, I know how to behave,” she sniped. “I’ll bet the Emperor is far prissier than your Queen is.”
“Just don’t tell her that.”
She grinned at the notion then returned to her gawking. Jesus, it was beautiful.
Spotting towns atop mountain crests, she peered at them but didn’t have chance to study them as they flew by too quickly.
“In a rush, are we?”
His great head nodded. “She wants to see you.”
“Great,” she grumbled. “And I can’t wait to see her either.”
He laughed—in her freakin’ head—and though it made her shudder a little, it also pleased her. She liked that he found her funny. Even if he didn’t understand a lot of the modern phrases she used, he still found her amusing.
That boded well, she thought.
“It does,” he boomed into her head, and before she could flick one of the spines running down the crest of his upper neck for making her jump, she saw what could only be a palace.
It was huge. Which was fitting considering the size of a dragon. It made Buckingham Palace look small, and it sat along the ridge of a mountain range all of its own.
Probably the size of Manhattan island, she knew she’d never seen as many windows in all her goddamn life.
It was crafted from roughly hewn stone, and it blended into the rock aside from the glinting glass windows.
It was ugly. Had spindles dotted here and there with puffs of smoke escaping them as had the Goblins’ homes, and the rest was a gabled roof.
There was no decoration, nothing fancy. Just sheer domination over the environment.
“She needs to hire a decorator,” she told Remy who just grunted.
“The damn place cost enough to build. You think your Emperor’s tithes are extortionate, you’ve yet to see our Queen’s demands.”
She huffed at that then watched as he began to bank to the left. He hadn’t slowed down, though, and she realized why. There was a kind of runway down the center of one of the roofs, which was why that particular part was so flat.
His wings ceased flapping as he rode the wind on his approach. Then, he arched his great neck and descended with all the grace of a bird.
When they landed on the ‘runway’, she pulled her hands free from the straps with no difficulty. Then, when he clambered to his belly again and lifted his wing, she climbed down from the saddle and made it back onto terra firma.
Before she could do more than blink, he’d shifted, and her gorgeous mate was once again standing before her.
He held out his hand for hers, and she clasped her fingers in his. As they started to move, he hesitated a second then asked, “It’s quite a walk. Are you certain you’re up for it?”
She winced. Her legs were aching already, and the slippers she wore that matched the rest of the outfit weren’t exactly made for comfort.
“I don’t want them to see me in a position of weakness,” she said to him in a low tone.
“I can understand that, dearling, but all lemans have the same weakness at the start. There’s no shame in it. It is part of the mate bond.”
“It doesn’t mean I have to like it. And it doesn’t mean I want them to see me like this either.”
He pursed his lips and contemplated their situation. “How about I carry you to a few hundred feet away from the Queen’s court? Then, we can walk through the main doors together, and our people will see you walking on your own two feet?”
She smiled at him. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Remy.”
He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Anything for my leman.”
He swung her up into his arms, and it was a testament to how accustomed she was to being in them, that when he took off on a run, she didn’t find herself grumbling at the jostling.
“What’s the rush?” she asked.
“No rush,” he denied. “But I want this over and done with.”
“Why? Is she as bad as all that?”
“No. But you are.”
She froze in his arms. “What the hell does that mean?”
He cocked a brow at her. “You know exactly what I mean. I can fully guarantee that Arista will never have met a leman like you.”
“Jesus, I’m not that bad,” she grouched. “You’re making me out to be a monster.”
“Not a monster, exactly,” he reasoned. “But you’re very outspoken.”
“I’m so not. What kind of pussy Sanguenna have you met before?” she demanded then scowled at him when he just shot her a look.
“That is exactly what I’m talking about. You just offended every other female leman in the Queen’s court. Even on your best behavior, I can’t imagine us managing to escape this place unscathed.”
“What kind of punishments does she hand out?”
“Banishments, mostly.”
“From our caverns?” she asked, aghast.
“No. From the court. She doesn’t want to see us when we’ve maddened her.”
“Sounds win-win to me,” she retorted, then harrumphed when he clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Anyway, she’s better than the Vampire court because when they’re pissed, they throw you into the sunlight.”
It was his turn to look aghast. “They kill you for offending them?”
“Yeah. Arista’s court is starting to look like fun and games, isn’t it?” she retorted, peering around the whirling swirl of doors and corridors as he ran down them, carrying her to wherever the Queen’s throne room was.
There wasn’t much to miss out on though.
This Arista bitch definitely needed to hire a decorator.
Stat.
When he braked to a sudden halt, she demanded, “We’re there already?”
He nodded and helped her down to her feet. Then, holding out his arm again, she pressed her fingers to his wrist, and together, they walked to the bottom of a corridor where two doors the size of a regular person’s home back in New York suddenly loomed upon them.
Two guards sporting similar attire to what she and her mate were wearing, stood on either side, and when they saw Remy and her, they banged the sticks they held in their arms on the ground. The doors opened in response, and finally, Mia had something to gawk at.
Now this was what she thought of when she thought of a palace.
The throne room was the size of her warehouse back in Tribeca, except, this was no ordinary room. It was like a freakin’ Christmas wonderland.
She turned to gawk at her mate, who just grinned at her.
“I thought you didn’t celebrate Christmas,” she demanded, eying the endless line of Christmas trees that surrounded the perimeter of the room. Each one decorated in a color that went beyond what she’d ever seen in her life before this moment. Lights bobbed here and there, but they were enchanted, and floated in a controlled dance about each tree. Elven magic. She almost orgasmed at the sight.
“I was surprised that you celebrated it; not that we do.” In an aside, he murmured, “Arista visited the other realm back when Charles Dickens wrote ‘A Christmas Carol.’” He wrinkled his nose. “She’s been obsessed ever since.”
She clapped her hands in gleeful delight and let out a laugh that, unfortunately, echoed around the hall.
She winced, and shot Remy an apologetic glance, but he looked pained, as though this was as exactly as he’d predicted, because wouldn’t you just know it? The chamber, so full to the brim of people, suddenly fell quiet at that exact moment so her laughter carried on echoing around the chamber like a yodeler on the Swiss Alps.
She had no time whatsoever to flitter from tree to tree to study the beautiful ornaments that loaded down each bustling branch. She had no time to look at the angels on top, nor did she have a chance to peer at the wreaths and garlands that were swagged about the room—huge blossoms, grand flowers, and garlands of ferns that all beggared belief.
&nb
sp; While she wished she could enjoy the beauty of this Christmas paradise, something that was made for someone as obsessed with the Holiday season as she was, a growl resounded around the chamber.
“So, the leman thinks she’s too good for my court.” A woman appeared then, and she began to walk toward them as she spoke.
She wore similar garb as them. Except where they wore black and white, and the other people in the crowd wore other base colors, she wore gold and white. Her hair was golden, too. Curled into ringlets that bobbed and swayed as she moved with all the grace of a ballerina down the path forged by her people.
She was beautiful, Mia saw. Her Vampire vision coming to her aid as the woman, still a fair distance away, approached. Bright blue eyes, golden skin that was blemish-free, she was undoubtedly ancient, but still incredibly beautiful. As timeless as Cleopatra, but angelically blond instead of saturnine dark as the Egyptian queen had been.
When her final word rang true, Remy retorted, “That is unfair, Your Majesty. My leman is of a more modern nature than what we are accustomed to. Should we punish her for living in this newer age, an age none of us have explored? Should we punish her for being the youngest of our people?”
As her mate continued, vainly from the look of Queen Bitch’s face, to defend her, Mia felt warmed up from the inside out. His earnestness made her smile, and she couldn’t help it; she laughed. Happiness making her feel full to the brim with satisfaction.
Remy froze at the sound of her joy, shooting her a beseeching look. It was the look of a man drowning, not in water, but in beer.
She grinned at him, and then, on shaky legs, before he could stop her, she strode forward without him at her side.
Her feet ached; her knees wobbled, and her pace was atrocious, but her strident step had the Queen jolting to a halt in surprise. Ten feet away from the woman, she swept down into a curtsey so grand, no one would ever dare say she wasn’t elegant.
With her head bowed, her leg swept back, she maintained the posture even though her unused muscles screamed at the position.
“Your Majesty,” she declared grandly, rising to standing position once more, her own diminished height putting her, surprisingly, at an advantage to the shorter Queen. “It would seem we share an adoration for Christmas,” she told her and hid a smile when the woman blinked at her in befuddlement. “Sadly, my coven distrusts the holiday season. I only decorate in my nightclub, which has human patrons. It is the only place it causes no concern. Glad I am that I can be surrounded by such holiday cheer, when I’m in the other realm, so far away from all I know and all I love at this time of year.”
The Queen studied her a second, and she tilted her nose in the air. The move looked like a snub, and Mia stiffened at the woman’s rudeness. Except, her rudeness knew no bounds.
Because she wasn’t snubbing Mia, instead, she was sniffing her.
The delicate nostrils flared wide and thinned with displeasure. “You’re with child.”
Mia gasped in astonishment then pressed a hand to her belly. “I am?” Believing it was one thing, knowing another.
Jesus. She was going to be a mom. To a kid who didn’t leave the nest for two centuries. Talk about party pooper.
The Queen pursed her lips. “Indeed. I can smell the ’ling from here.”
Mia whipped around and saw the proud look on her mate’s face and knew he’d been aware of her pregnancy.
She glowered at him, propping her hands on her hips in annoyance. “Thanks for telling me, bud.”
He grinned sheepishly, unashamed when some of the courtiers in their vicinity gasped at her remark. “Another surprise, dearling. I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”
She rolled her eyes, and then, deciding that wasn’t enough, wagged her finger at him. “I’ll get you back.”
He bowed, long and low. “I count on it, sweetling.” Then, with his eyes on hers, mouthed, “I love you.”
She froze at the words but sent him a smile that shone with her own love for him, before she turned to the Queen once more. “He’s incorrigible,” she complained chattily.
The courtiers either side of her eyed her like she had two heads. Apparently, these boring bastards were as tedious about court protocol as the Vampire court. And though Mia did normally behave better than this, something about the kid-in-a-candy-store throne room wouldn’t allow her to be stuffy and act like she had a stick up her ass.
This room was Christmas and Santa’s Grotto combined.
It was the epitome of the holiday season, and she freakin’ loved it.
She would never consider herself playful, but here, in this room, a side of her she’d never known had popped out to play.
Unfortunate, considering she was dealing with royalty for the first time too.
Though the courtiers looked disgusted by her inability to hold her tongue, as well as the way she’d scolded her mate in public—hell, he hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d looked more amused than anything else—the Queen was eying her like a child with a magnifying glass, who was aiming the sun’s rays at insects on the ground.
Except, the Queen could create fire without need of the sun.
She should probably have taken that into consideration before she started mouthing off.
Before she could grimace, the Queen narrowed her eyes and murmured, “You may sit beside me at the banquet.”
Mia was kind of surprised at the invitation, but that was nothing to the astonished bewilderment of the people around her.
With an imperial nod, the Queen murmured, “Come.” She stood there, waiting, her arm held out for Mia’s.
She turned around to catch her mate’s eye, and the pride on his face was such she had to swallow down the lump in her throat.
He strode closer to her, keeping a step behind her, so she could feel his presence. Know she had his support.
Somehow, the other woman seemed to know she was shaky on her feet, because they met in the middle, and the Queen allowed her to use her for support as they headed to the bottom of the throne room where a huge banquet table had been set up.
Mia hadn’t seen it from the entrance, but as she approached, she was stunned by the grandeur, the glory. Silver urns and carved platters, golden cutlery, vases made with precious gems for adornment lined the table, and miniature Christmas trees bobbed here and there, vying for decorative attention.
She was hard pressed not to gawk in sheer wonder at the glistening treasure trove before her, but the Queen asked, “It is true what Remy said about the mark?”
Unbidden, Mia’s fingers dug into the Queen’s arm, and her limping gait worsened. “Yes.”
“After dinner, I would like to see them.”
Mia’s lips tightened, but the fear that flashed across her features had the Queen patting her hand. “All will be well, child. Everything has an explanation. Even your loose tongue, I imagine.”
Her lips twitched as she made that particular comment, and Mia looked up at her through her lashes. Grinning, she confessed, “This room makes me feel like a child. It’s hard to follow protocol when one feels like a six-year-old.”
Queen Arista smiled, and, on the brink of saying something, stopped when the doors to the throne room smashed open.
“Your Majesty, we tried to stop him!”
The cries blared out from the doorway, but when they turned to face the guards, Mia didn’t see them. She saw only Georgios.
The pain and agony on his face had her heart clutching in her chest, but that was nothing to what the sight of his blood-drenched clothes inspired in her.
“Remy!” he screamed, terror loading down her mate’s name. “My Sanguenna...she’s dying.”
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Christmas: Dragon Style (The Sanguenna Chronicles Book 1) Page 16