Dragon's Heart

by Michelle Rabe

  “Can they still challenge my right to inherit my mother’s throne?”

  Bronwynn sighed. “The situation is complicated, Highness. Ceremonies and traditions have not been followed. You should have ruled at your mother’s side for several years. Since the age of sixteen.”

  “How long do queens rule?”

  “Usually not more than a century. Some have governed longer if no daughter has yet been born. Others have chosen to step down sooner for their heirs.”

  “So since I didn’t accept the princess’s crown at age sixteen and hadn’t been ruling at my mother’s side for the past…” she paused glancing down as she made the calculation, “four years, the noble clans have the right to challenge my ability to rule? It doesn’t matter that my whole family was killed when I was five, and I’ve been living among the humans since then?”

  Bronwynn considered the princess’s words for several moments and nodded. “Yes.”

  “And if things had been done in the proper fashion?”

  “Then challenges would have been brought before the council. They would have to prove some reason you were unfit to rule.”

  Serena shook her head and put one hand to her temple. “How many noble families are there?”

  “Ten. Of those, only three have daughters of proper age,” Bronwynn answered. “However, when the throne has not been claimed, a male can put forth a challenge. It is the only way our people can be ruled by a king.”

  “So how many noble families have daughters or sons who could challenge me for the throne?”

  “Five. Three females and two males who are of proper age and families.”

  Serena leaned against the wall. Her eyes wide. “I could face five challenges to my right to rule?”

  Bronwynn shrugged. “In theory, I suppose. However, two of your potential challengers have no interest in the position, so my best guess is at most three.”

  “Why would anyone challenge me?”

  “For the same reasons one might try to take any throne. Power, wealth. In your case, fear. They do not know you.”

  “Because the Dark Fey murdered my entire family when I was five years old.”

  “The reasons why do not matter in the end, Highness. Only the fact that your people do not know who you are or how you might rule over them. It is cause for concern.”

  “I see.” Serena nodded. “How are these challenges made and decided?”

  “Combat is the most common,” Zanna interjected, “though there are other ways.”

  “And if I don’t want the throne?”

  “There are ways.” Bronwynn stepped forward. “Please princess, we really should get you to Altus.”

  “Am I meeting with Altus alone or will the rest of this council be there, as well?”

  The purple Dragon Fey frowned. “It will be just you and Altus for now. The surviving members of your mother’s council have been recalled though they have not arrived.”

  “How were they consulted if they’re not here?”

  “Our soothsayers have a way to communicate with one another.

  “What about the council members who did not survive? What about their seats?”

  “The clans who lost councilors will send new representatives, Highness.”

  Serena nodded. “How long until they arrive?”

  “Some of them will be here in a matter of days, but others will take longer.”

  Serena nodded and pushed away from the wall, her hands resting on the hilt of her sword as it hung on her right hip. “I suppose I must learn what it means to be a Dragon Fey Queen. I am my mother’s heir, so I will live up to my birthright.” She turned and strode down the hall, head held high, shoulders squared and back straight. The three Dragon Fey ladies had to jog to keep up with her.

  Chapter 14

  Killian sat at his desk, his right arm in a sling, a reminder not to use it while it healed. Spread in front of him were the most recent communications from Lakeshire. He’d taken over many of Serena’s duties with regard to governing her province since her disappearance. While focused on the household accounts in front of him, he didn’t notice a soft tapping on the door.

  “Your Highness.” Thomas stepped into Killian’s study. He waited until the prince looked up, a question in his eyes. “Gerald, the chief archivist, has the information you requested.”

  Killian’s heart skipped a beat and kicked up a notch. He took a deep breath and set his quill aside. “Send him in, and ask Captain Ryan to join us as well, please.” Any other member of his family or the court wouldn’t have been polite about the request. They would have ordered and expected obedience.

  “Of course, Highness.” Thomas bowed and left Killian alone with his thoughts.

  Silence pressed in around him, he laid his hand over Serena’s ring and did the only thing he’d been able to do since she disappeared, prayed for her safe return or some clue that would lead him to her.

  A few moments later, the door opened, and Ryan stepped into the room, followed by a small, man who stood hunched over and walked with a limp. Tufts of white hair poked out from under the leather cap he wore.

  “Your Highness,” the old man’s voice trembled though Killian knew it had nothing to do with fear. The man’s demeanor said he was familiar with royalty. “I have found the information you asked me to research.”

  “Thank you.” Killian forced himself to stick to the niceties in spite of his desperate desire to know. “What have you found?”

  “I must admit the work took me longer than I had expected. And my conclusions are rather strange, your Highness,” the older man said while setting a large, thick tome on the prince’s desk. “The particular item is something that has not been seen for at least twenty years, perhaps more.” He opened the book to a page more than halfway through. “What you found was once the sigil of house Arryan.” He tapped a rendering of the seal with one gnarled finger.

  “I’ve never heard of that house before.” Killian reached out and traced the drawing with his fingers.

  “That is because they were a Dragon Fey clan.”

  Ryan scoffed. “The Dragon Fey are a myth. A fanciful tale of dragons mating with fey before both races died out.”

  “No, Captain,” the scholar said while shaking his head, “the Dragon Fey are not myth. They are, in fact, quite real. Though it is believed their numbers have dwindled with too few left for them to be a force in the world anymore.”

  “They are creatures of magic like the fey? Magic has died out. It is no longer in the world. How can a magical race survive?” Ryan asked.

  “Magic is too powerful to be obliterated. I, and many others, believe it has simply changed, become something else in order to survive.” The archivist turned to Killian. “If I may be so bold, your Highness, may I ask how you came across this?”

  “It was attached to a letter from Lady Harlowe after she disappeared. Why?”

  “Because it hasn’t been seen for so long. Forgive me, Highness, but it is an old man’s curiosity and nothing more.”

  Killian nodded. “Thank you. That will be all.” He watched as the archivist shut the book, tucked it under one arm and hobbled out of the room.

  After the door had shut, Ryan crossed to the desk and stood across from where the prince sat. “What are you thinking?”

  He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and sighed. “It seems every time I get close to finding or discovering what happened, she slips further and further away.”

  “I know you do not want to hear this, but perhaps it’s time you come to terms with the fact that she is beyond your reach.”

  “In my heart, I know she’s not dead, Ryan. Don’t ask me to explain it, but…” His words trailed off as the image of the dragon’s eye flashed in his mind, tugging at a memory.

  “Even if you’re right, that does not mean she’ll be coming back.” Ryan’s voice broke into Killian’s reverie, and the image vanished.

  Killian laughed and shook his head. “Even wit
h my title and position, I couldn’t protect the woman I love… the woman I’d hoped to make my wife.”

  “I’ve known Serena for years. I know she wouldn’t blame you. Wherever she is, she loves you. She fought her feelings for you as long as she could, but in the end, she was powerless. As her friend, and I hope yours, I believe you honor her by continuing to be the man, and someday the ruler, she trusted you would be.”

  “I miss her every moment of every day.”

  “I know.” Ryan nodded, “Perhaps that will ease with time.”

  “You have my thanks.” Killian closed his eyes, fighting the pain twisting his heart. “And please tell whoever was involved in the search, they have my personal gratitude.”

  Ryan nodded and offered the prince a respectful bow. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Please ask Thomas to clear my schedule for the rest of the day. I need some time to myself.” To mourn. To let go and try to find a way to move forward without her.

  “Yes, Highness. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Killian.”

  The prince hung his head and closed his eyes, breath leaving his body with a heavy sigh. Ryan turned and walked out of the room, leaving his friend alone.

  Later that afternoon, Killian stepped into his grandmother’s chamber. It was the one meeting Thomas didn’t have the power to cancel. The queen was sitting up in her opulent bed, the delicate crown glittering in the light of the fire and candles. Her skin appeared pale, eyes sunken with dark smudges beneath them. Gray streaks marked her dark hair. She was thin, had the appearance of one whose time had long since passed, but her eyes retained their fierce intelligence. Killian realized the illness had taken its toll on her as their eyes met across the room. The irony was cruel because the illness was destroying her body though her mind was intact.

  “Killian.” She grinned and beckoned her grandson to her side. The smile was a mask. Her cold tone gave up the game. Something had changed since he’d gone to the lake and had been rescued by a dragon. His hand slipped into his pocket and touched the scale he’d found on the ground near the location where he’d awakened. Touching the rough surface soothed and strengthened him.

  “Grandmother.”

  “Preparations for your wedding must begin in short order.”

  “Really? I wasn’t aware you’d agreed to one of the contracts,” Killian whispered, feeling a knot of dread form in his gut.

  “You will marry Katia Dennsmore.”

  His breath left his body in an instant. “Grandmother. Please, I beg you to reconsider.”

  “You cannot continue to delude yourself, and you must accept it, that girl will not return.”

  “She. Has. A. Name.”

  “I know she has a name. I am aware of what her name is. You must come to terms with the fact that she is gone. You must move on.”

  Killian closed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around the ring hanging from the chain on his neck. “I understand your point. I am ready to accept one of the marriage contracts.” He studied his grandmother’s expression. “Please, as your grandson, I beg you, anyone but Katia Dennsmore. For any of the other offers, I will do my duty, but please, not her.”

  Anastasia sighed and shook her head. “I am sorry, but all of the other offers have been withdrawn.”

  “What?” Killian felt as though someone punched him in the gut. Air escaped his lungs in a rush, and he stumbled back a few steps before catching himself.

  “A short time after your Serena disappeared.” She shook her head. “No explanations were given, and I know for a fact, several of the young ladies are still eligible. Though some have made other suitable matches.”

  “Do not force me to do this.”

  “There are no other options. I made your Serena a noble. I waited for her to put forth an offer of marriage. I never received one. I am sorry, Killian, but you must marry. Katia Dennsmore is your only option.”

  “When?”

  “Three months should be sufficient.”

  He was in a daze. When she spoke, it sounded as though Anastasia was far away, not in the same room. “Is that all, Grandmother?”

  “Yes.”

  Killian stood and bowed. “By your leave, Grandmother.”

  “The contract is on my desk. It requires your signature and seal.”

  He walked over to her desk and without reading, signed the bottom and dropped the quill. The scribe stepped forward and, as the prince watched, prepared the wax for his official seal. To his ears, each drip of the dark blue liquid sounded like the strike of a blacksmith’s hammer on steel. Satisfied with the size and shape of the disc, the scribe stepped back, bowing and mumbling something Killian didn’t care about.

  He slipped the signet ring off his finger, examined the etched rampant lion for a moment. As soon as he did this, it was final. He was marrying Katia. The last spark of hope he’d clung to was crushed under the weight of duty, its light dying. “Forgive me,” he whispered so low he knew he wouldn’t be heard and pressed his ring into the wax, waiting for a few seconds before lifting it and sliding it back on his finger. The personal secretary hustled forward and snatched the contract before Killian had the chance to wad it up and throw it into the nearby fire.

  Killian turned, forcing himself to walk out of the room, ignoring the hot tears sliding down his face, determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing him run. In the distance, his grandmother called out to him. Killian didn’t answer. Serena’s ring burned against his skin, a heavy weight around his neck.

  Once away from the queen’s apartments, he ran, unconcerned about who saw, or tried to stop him. He didn’t care what anyone thought. When Killian reached the royal gardens, he slammed the gate closed, clutched the wrought iron bars and screamed until no breath remained in his lungs, his throat raw. Choking on gasps of air, he turned and started walking, his feet following well-known paths. Ghosts of the past drifted up beside him until their whispers drowned out the mundane sounds of the garden.

  He wandered, content to let the past wash over him like a soothing rain. In time, he made his way into the heart of the garden and sat on the bench where he’d gotten up the courage to steal a kiss for the first time. He closed his eyes and saw it as if no time had passed.

  Killian leaned forward, his eyes on Serena’s slightly parted lips. The silence between them was charged with energy he couldn’t name. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Killian tilted his head to the left, ducking just a little, closing the short distance between them. His lips touched hers, and warmth washed through his whole body. It had been as though he found the place where he belonged. He wanted more, so he feathered his lips against hers again, in a silent request. She pulled away, but he didn’t move, drinking in the sight of her from the flush in her cheeks to the way her freckles stood out. Serena’s eyelids fluttered for a few seconds and then went wide. A finger raised to her lips and she stood, stepping a few paces away from him.

  “I’m sorry.” Killian reached out and tried to catch her hand, but missed. His heart stopped in his chest, and he wanted to take the moment back… to return to the way things had been. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat, and he couldn’t make his legs obey the command to rise and stop her.

  “I… I can’t, Killian. I’m sorry.” She turned and ran from him.

  Other memories flashed in his mind, cherished, stolen moments he had to lock away. Taking both of the rings from the chain, Killian clutched them in his hand. “Gods, Serena. I’m sorry.” He stared across the cobblestone path at the red rose bush, focusing on one large, perfect flower. “I’m sorry. You never knew, but I had planned to ask you to be my wife on my naming day. I should have done so as soon as my grandmother raised you to the nobility. Maybe then you would still be here with me.” He stood and walked across the path to kneel in front of the bush.

  The prince plucked a rose and tore off
two petals before setting them on the ground. Laying the rings on top of the single petals, he began digging. Her voice whispered in his mind, words of friendship, commiseration, compassion, and love. As his fingers ripped into the earth, he built walls around his memories. When the hole was deep enough, he pulled the remaining petals from the rose and lined the bottom of it with most of them. “Goodbye, my love. You have my heart forever.” After pressing his lips to the rings, he placed them in the earth. Tears blurred his vision as he used the last of the petals to cover the treasures of his past before filling in the hole. Killian sat back staring at the bare ground. The gardeners would never know about the small fortune in gold and gems buried beneath the small patch of soil. He started to stand, but something tugging at the back of his mind stopped him.

  Sinking to the ground, the knees of his breeches soaked up moisture. His hand seemed to move of its own accord, and he reached out to pluck the perfect red bloom. He brought the rose to his lips and whispered, “I miss you.” When the petals brushed against his lips, soft as her skin, he said, “I will love you, always.” He leaned forward and pressed the blossom into the soil over the place where he’d buried the rings.

  When Killian stood, the tears stopped. His heart, his memories, and his love for her were sealed behind stone walls. The foolish young man who’d believed love would be enough to conquer duty… was buried along with his heart.

  I will do as I must. I will protect and rule my people with a fair hand. I will marry Katia and produce heirs to follow me on the throne. But I will never love her. I will never love another. Serena has my heart until the day I die. And then, if the fates are kind, we can be together in the afterlife.

  Chapter 15

  The day was cool, and a mist clung to the ground, spilling over the edge, mimicking the nearby waterfall. Weak sunshine filtered through the clouds, leaving the Nightsong mountains in a strange kind of half-light. Serena took very little notice of her surroundings as she stood on the edge of the cliff. Looking down, she watched as pebbles tumbled to splash in the pool below. Her heart thundered in her chest, and though she thought she was breathing normally, it seemed as though she wasn’t getting any air. The red-gold wings were still a strange, if not uncomfortable weight on her back. The trio of Bronwynn, Zanna, and Siobhan… along with Altus… assured her they were fully functional, meant to carry their kind over long distances with ease. I know they’re not lying, I have seen each of them, and others, fly. Even small children play in flight. That doesn’t mean I can do it. She fought to get her breathing back under control.