“And you played no part in her capture, confinement or torture?” he asks, skepticism dripping from his words.
“No. I did not,” I grit out.
“You were shown her suffering as a warning of what was in store for yourself and decided to free her anyway and risk your own life?” he presses.
“Yes.”
“And you want us to believe that you went back down there, alone. Opened the cell, alone. Broke her free from an iron chain, unassisted. And just walked out of this human city, undetected?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs and backs a few steps away.
He walks behind the dais before returning with two heavy-looking items, tossing them with a horrible clatter to the floor. A long iron chain, and an axe. My heart begins to pound as I realize what he is about to ask of me, and that I will either be forced to reveal that I used magic to break that chain, or I will be made to look like a liar and an enemy.
“Show us,” he drawls and makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, inviting me to approach the two items on the floor.
He holds my gaze for an eternity before I step forward and reach down for the axe. It’s huge, with a sharp curve spanning the length of my forearm on one side, and three thick spikes on the other. My muscles strain and protest as I pick it up and weigh it in my hands. I glance at the ancient king and then to Dederic and the way he is watching me so intently. I make to pull the weapon behind my body, readying to swing and praying I can get it over my head.
“Moris, this is absurd!” Eira shouts.
I halt and the axe clatters again to the floor.
“I’m telling you that I watched her break the chain ̶ I saw it with my own eyes. You hand her an axe that weighs as much as she does and expect her to prove to you what she did in that cell? Do you plan on threatening her life as well? Pumping her full of fear and adrenaline and torturing me in front of her?”
Shouts of fury come from the soldiers around us and the bearded man clenches his jaw in agitation. Eira’s breathing is ragged and she clearly isn’t done.
“Look at me,” she says and sweeps her hair back from her shoulders. The imprint of the shackle is a deep purple bruise around her neck, rubbed raw and scabbing in spots. Even the king appears distressed by the sight.
“What possible reason would I have to lie about this?” she demands.
“Obviously I don’t mean to imply that I doubt your sincerity in the matter,” he growls. “But I have deep concerns that we are bringing in a snake to live among us and I would hate for anyone to get bit.”
My face heats and fire surges through my veins. The yelling all around me is drowned out by a loud rushing in my ears. I’m surprised I haven’t immolated the entire room with my anger. Eira is still shouting and jostles me, snapping my focus back to the present.
“He is wrong, Your Majesty,” Eira insists, and Warin grips her tightly, murmuring calming, quiet reassurances in her ear.
“Kindly remove her, Warin, since she is obviously still too fragile from her ordeal. This kind of emotional outburst only proves that she needs time to heal,” Moris barks, and Warin lets loose a growl. A few other men offer loud protests from the crowd as well and the king frowns.
“Quiet!” Sarvos calls and raises both hands to the crowd in front of him. The sleeves of his green robe slide up to his elbows, revealing the emaciated arms underneath. The men come to order and Dederic keeps his gaze locked on me.
“Enough,” Sarvos says. “Let’s move on. And we’ll work to maintain a bit more civility when addressing our guest, Moris.”
“Of course. Apologies, Your Majesty,” he murmurs and offers a small shallow bow.
“How is it that no one in the entire city noticed you leaving? Not a single guard,” Dederic rumbles, and my eyes dart to his.
“A guard did see us,” I snap. “Eira held a crossbow on him and I made him open the gate to the city before I knocked him unconscious.”
Hoots of amusement and disbelief ring through the room and even Dederic’s eyes seem to flicker with humor.
“One guard? Where was everyone else? How did you know you wouldn’t encounter more people than that?” Moris asks.
“Because there was a large celebration happening that night. Everyone was either drunk and occupied, or asleep and far from the exit,” I say.
“What kind of celebration?” Dederic asks.
“A wedding,” I say, not meeting his gaze.
“And had you traveled to this cesspit to join in the marital revelry ̶ or do you claim that place as home?” Moris’ voice is low and even, but the venom behind his words makes my stomach churn.
“That place is not my home,” I whisper.
Not for a long time, and never again.
“So, you fled. Left your family, ran off into the night, and were planning to do what, exactly?” Moris presses, and I shake my head.
“I was going to make sure Eira was somewhere that she would be found by her own people. And then I planned to hide - either in another city or alone - until I was sure I wasn’t being hunted,” I say truthfully. “But then you found us,” I lift my head and look Dederic right in the eyes, “and forced me to come with you. So here I am.”
“Who’s wedding was it?” Dederic interrupts, and I feel a hot blush spread across my face.
“Mine,” I finally choke out.
He tilts his head curiously and narrows his eyes on me.
“Your new husband didn’t notice you sneaking out of the marriage bed in the middle of the night?” he asks, and my blush deepens.
“We were to be married the next day.”
“And will your jilted groom come looking to retrieve you?” Moris interjects.
A shiver rips down my spine and I work to shake off thoughts of Alderon and his wrath. He is a man used to bending and breaking everyone around him, seeking control and submission above all else, and I was to be his newest toy. His property by law, and I defied him in the worst possible way. I left him. Publicly. He will want revenge, and with his talent for violence and suffering, I can’t even fathom what that would look like.
You’re free, I remind myself silently, willing the fear to dissipate.
“Yes,” I say honestly. My voice sounds raw and strangled. “I don’t think he will storm this castle and demand my safe return, if that is what you’re asking. But he won’t let me go easily. Though I’m sure he would be perfectly satisfied if you sent him my head mounted on a spike.”
Dederic cocks his head, and I look away, unable to meet whatever judgment flickers there.
A few low growls reverberate through the hall, from disgust at my actions or my words, I’m not sure. Sarvos calls for quiet and the men settle down again. I take a deep breath and wait to hear if my attempt to convince the king to grant me safe passage out of Ruarden was successful.
His pale gray gaze flicks over me, and I study the way his eyes have sunken into his skull and the skin is pulled taut and transparent over his cheek bones. The contrast between Sarvos and the man at his side is shocking and it leaves me wondering how old he is – how much he’s seen.
“I appreciate your candor and your bravery, young one,” Sarvos says. “I believe that your heart was in the right place in bringing Eira back to us. However, given the information that you have offered today, I cannot see that it would be wise to return you to the human territory anytime soon.”
My heart sinks and I feel my body sway.
“I also believe that there are questions that need to be answered and information that can be gained by your presence here,” Sarvos continues. “So, until it is confirmed that there are no human war parties hunting for you or our city, I am ordering that you remain a guest of the throne and of Ruarden. Only once your safety can be assured and my commander is satisfied, will you be allowed to leave.”
The breath rushes out of me and I look to the man standing at the king’s side. I clasp my hands in front of me to stop them from shaking and pull my shou
lders back straight.
“Dederic,” Sarvos croaks, and the giant man shifts his swirling green eyes to the king. “I will leave the female in your charge. We can discuss findings as they arise, but I am satisfied with her presence here.”
Dederic nods in understanding as I stand rooted to the spot. He turns his attention to the men around me, and I can feel the weight of his commanding authority as his assessing gaze sweeps the room.
“Dismissed,” he bellows, and the crowd bows and salutes before moving towards the huge stone doors. Some of the men send curious, probing looks my way, but no one approaches me, conversing quietly amongst themselves instead. Moris shoots me an arrogant smile before folding silently into the crowd.
After a few minutes, nearly everyone has cleared out of the room. Odin comes to stand beside me, and his long black hair tickles my hand below the cuff of my sleeve.
“Take her to mess,” Dederic instructs from the dais and Odin nods silently. He reaches for me again, and I open my mouth to snarl in protest, but I’m cut off by a low growl.
“Leave it,” Dederic snaps. “She’ll go where instructed and without argument, am I right?”
Odin’s yellow eyes flicker with annoyance, but he keeps his hands to himself. Sarvos remains seated on the dais behind us, watching with dull interest.
“I’m not hungry,” I say and Dederic’s eyes narrow on me. He shakes his head and huffs out a humorless laugh before pointing a commanding look at Odin.
“Take her to her room, then,” he says before turning away and moving back towards the frail Dragon king.
Odin sweeps a large arm out towards the open door before offering me an elaborate bow – making his irritation clear without a single word. We cross the courtyard and wind through the halls and back up the stairs until we reach my bedroom door. The tight-lipped guard leans back against the stone wall and stares straight ahead as if this is all just a normal occurrence.
I slide into the room and let the mask of calm and cool bravado fall away as shaking sobs wrack my body. I let it all out - the fear of that night and surmounting our escape, the pain and shame at reliving all those choices again for an audience today. I cry at the feeling of being trapped again and with unknown enemies in this strange new place that I would have never in my worst nightmare imagined ending up. And I cry at the anger and loneliness and the feeling of helplessness - all of it crushing me under its smothering weight. I lie in front of the door and cry until my tears are dried up and all that’s left of my heart is an empty black hole.
Dinner
For four days I stay holed up in the room that has become my prison cell. I spend my time reading the two books that I dug out of the bottom of the trunk at the foot of the bed, sitting on the window ledge and absorbing as much sun and fresh air as possible, and sleeping.
Dederic visits my room like clockwork each day to deliver plates piled high with fresh breads, soups, meats and fish, fruits, and cakes. I leave most of it untouched and make sure that I am either asleep or locked in the bathroom each and every time he comes. The only way I know that he’s the one delivering meals is the warm, earthy smell that lingers long after he’s gone. It’s the same smell I woke up to after the flight here, while he looked out the window with me, and when he led me to the throne room - and it lingers every morning, noon, and night after he visits with food.
Eira has stopped in to check on me every day as well. Sometimes I answer the door and sometimes I feign unconsciousness to avoid her too. Her injuries appear fully healed and some of the darkness has fallen away from her eyes. I’m truly glad that she appears to be doing well and is settled, but there just isn’t much to say. We’re both alive, but only one of us is really home.
On the fifth morning, my mental stability goes into full revolt. I’ve read both books in my room at least twice now, and I’ve started to see faces in the cracks of my ceiling.
I have to get out of this room.
My tenuous grip on sanity is slipping further and further out of reach. I wake before the sun has risen and take a quick, cold bath in my room. I dry my hair and brush it until it’s shining and soft and falls in light waves down my back, dressing in a billowy, sleeveless gown of greens and golds.
I’m standing at the open window when Dederic slips silently into my room with a heaping plate of sweet-smelling pastries and fruit. He stops abruptly when he notices the empty bed and quickly scans the room until he finds me, sweeping over my appearance from head to toe. His green eyes flicker with relief and he closes the door quietly behind him.
“She lives,” he says and sets the plate of breakfast on the small table near the fireplace. I cross my arms over my chest and savor the deep tenor of his voice.
“I need to get out of this room,” I tell him and fight to keep the clawing sound of desperation out of my voice. He hears it anyway, and I have to drop my gaze to the floor.
“You were never required to stay holed up in here in the first place.” He moves to the other side of the window across from me, leaning against the stone wall. “You’re not a prisoner. You are welcome to come and go as you please anywhere on the castle grounds.”
I huff in irritation and a small dimple appears in his cheek as he fights back a smirk. The soft morning light glows across his golden skin and picks up honey-colored flecks in his green eyes. I scowl inwardly at how easily I am drawn in by his handsome face, especially having seen the fanged creature that he can shift into that could slit my throat with a flick of his claws.
“Is it even safe for me to be walking alone out there?”
“You won’t be alone. Odin or another guard will be with you at all times.”
A large gray Dragon comes sailing towards the castle, and we both stare out the window and watch his smooth descent over the wall.
“Wonderful,” I say despondently, and Dederic leans way over so that we are eye to eye.
“You will inform me immediately if anyone upsets you or behaves inappropriately.” His voice is low and gravelly and the intensity in his eyes makes my heart kick up.
“That won’t exactly help me while I’m being beat to a bloody pulp,” I mutter.
“That would never-”
“I’m human. And female,” I snap.
His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches as though offended by the facts.
“What does that have to do with anything?” His voice is one note above a growl. “Nothing like that would ever happen to a female here.”
“It happens to women every day. I’ve seen it ̶ I’ve lived it.”
Dederic’s head jerks back, and I can almost taste the smoke on his breath.
“Have human males sunk so low then?” he asks quietly. “I thought perhaps they reserved that cruelty for Dragon females alone. I should have realized that kind of depravity would poison everything it touched.”
“You honestly think your soldiers are different? That they wouldn’t take an opportunity to exact their revenge and vent their frustrations on me?” I ask and raise a disbelieving brow.
“I know that they wouldn’t,” he says.
“How naive of you,” I whisper, and he shakes his head incredulously.
“You know nothing, Seda. You’re safe for as long as you are here. You’re a guest of Ruarden and you’re under my care.”
“And we’re back to that. Yes, I’m a guest - one who is here under duress and can’t leave,” I grumble.
“We’re still monitoring the situation in the human territory to determine if anyone tracked you this way,” he says, and my heart stutters.
“And have you found anything?” I ask, and he shakes his head slowly.
“Nothing concerning. It might help if you could point us in the direction of the city you escaped from…” He trails off and holds my gaze intently. “Since humans moved underground, we have a general idea of the location of some bigger cities, but you’ve hidden yourselves well,” he murmurs.
I don’t tell him that people like Celestra have ensure
d we are not found by using magic to confuse and deter unwelcome visitors. That they very well could have flown right overhead and suddenly found themselves turning around and heading the opposite direction.
We stare silently at each other for a few long moments, neither wanting to give in and speak first. I want so badly to believe him and for him to believe me. I take a deep breath and say what has been haunting my thoughts since my last night in Illburn.
“I didn’t know about the abductions,” I murmur softly.
“Oh?” He crosses his arm over his chest and takes a few steps towards me.
“I – we - didn’t know that our rulers were killing Dragon females. We’ve been told for ages that Dragons are predators and the sole aggressors ̶ constantly mounting attacks that we are working to defend ourselves from. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.” Dederic sighs and turns his attention to the open window.
Far, far below the blue ocean froths and churns, crashing against the jagged rocks at the base of the cliffs. I lean my face against the stone and close my eyes as the breeze kisses my face and causes my skirts to billow and sway. The fresh, open air is still a luxury I’m reluctant to take for granted. As soon as I leave, I’ll be right back underground.
“So, you’ll venture outside of your room today?” he asks, and I blink my eyes open to meet his stare.
“Since you’ve done such a wonderful job convincing me that your citizens are saints… yes. I think I will,” I drawl.
He shakes his head in exasperation and I see the mirth flickering in his eyes. He pushes away from the window and makes his way across the room and towards the door.
“Eat,” he commands and points at the plate of food. “And then go where you wish. If an area is private or in use, Odin or someone else will let you know. Otherwise, you have access to anything here that you wish.”
“Does it have to be Odin?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m not taking any chances, so Odin will continue to be your escort.” I purse my lips at that, and Dederic’s gaze flicks to my mouth before he turns to open the door.
Song of Smoke: A Dragon Shifter Romance (The King's Series Book 1) Page 6
