Burn (Dragon Souls)

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Burn (Dragon Souls) Page 15

by Penelope Fletcher


  Myron’s lips twitched.

  They understood what she meant. The other two were being difficult, savage natures tantalized by the threat of war even as they sought to prevent it.

  “Don’t you have a symbol that invokes peace?” Marina strived for patience. “A certain type of plant or bird people identify with goodwill?”

  The witchy glow of Koen’s eyes brightened to a crafty glitter.

  “Ah. I understand.” Smirking in his bastard-beautiful way, as if she said something quaint, he stroked her cheek. “This ‘peaceful gesture’ is a female whimsy, is it not?”

  The smile became a wicked grin.

  Finally understanding he teased her, she scowled. “You’re achingly close to a kiss with this fist.” She shook her balled up hand under his nose. “Watch yourself.”

  Daniil chuckled. “I shall arrange this parley. It is the safest way forward now we have a better idea of their intentions.” He hesitated. “It is imperative you speak to the youngling.”

  “I will.” Marina’s original worries swamped her. “As soon as I find him.”

  Koen placed his hand over hers. “We shall find him together. Come.”

  Marina followed Koen as he left the great hall and strode down the empty corridors.

  People sensed him coming and abandoned their tasks to scarper from the fortress entirely, or dash into crevices to hide behind statues of Dragons Lords, peeking from their cubbies.

  She understood there was a measure of what they called dragonfear at work, mainly they left out of a deep, abiding esteem. Koen’s Dragon was territorial, and the less people around him the better. It kept him calmer. So out of respect, they gave him space.

  Koen’s large hand enveloped hers. His thumb rubbing across her skin in lingering sweeps that made her mushy inside.

  The tension in his frame worried her considering who they looked for.

  “He must be frightened,” she murmured. “He needs our understanding, not our anger.”

  “I am displeased he did not come to us. I have been waiting.”

  “It can’t be easy for him. He’s not stupid. He must comprehend that if he has magick and is not a Dragon Lord it means he’s a Mage. A race you hold a great deal of antagonism toward.”

  “I accept I scare him. Why did he not go to you?” His words were more alike to thoughts being spoken aloud. His expression and tone were thoughtful.

  Marina still flinched.

  Guilt settled on her shoulders. “I’ve been busy with Aver. I should have spoken to him about this ages ago.”

  “He cannot help himself by approaching you with his problems?”

  “I’ve been neglectful.”

  Koen spun so fast she bumped into him. It was like running into a stonewall.

  She bounced off his broad chest and ended up staggering. He clamped his hands on her shoulders and dragged him into his arms.

  Marina struggled fitfully.

  It wasn’t good to do this so openly, but he refused to give her an inch and eventually her own need to be held overcame her reservations. She clung to him.

  “I failed him.” Face burrowed in his tunic, her words were garbled. “Already.”

  “Stop blaming yourself.”

  “I’m not. Just stating the truth. This situation is spiralling out of control. It might not have had I been more observant.”

  “You could not have predicted the Barren Ones discovering Boy was here. Even Daniil did not foresee this and he sees more than is good.”

  “I kept thinking I’d shower him in attention and affection after Aver. After you and I finished the hunt and were married. After I’d dealt with Mikhail. After the Ice Realm was under my control. After I abolished slavery. After, after, after! How could I do that to him? Put him after all those things?” She looped her arms around his neck. Whispered, “I’m a bad mother.”

  “Hush.” Koen stroked her head. “None of that. We will fix this.”

  “I can’t even find him.” She shoved out of his arms and stomped off. “He doesn’t want to be around me.”

  “Are you pouting?”

  “Yes.”

  He rumbled a laugh and scooped her up. “I have a feeling I know where he is.”

  Koen took her to the upper levels of the Citadel.

  Wrapped up in each other, they ignored the scandalized gasps of any who saw them.

  Marina eventually gave up trying to look embarrassed.

  In this male’s arms is where she belonged. They had to get over it. If a stickler like Regent Myron couldn’t keep them apart using tradition did they truly think gasps and looks of disapproval would?

  They came to a simple wooden entrance.

  Koen rapped his knuckles against it.

  Marina looked at him curiously, having no idea where they were. The door swung wide open before she asked.

  Stood on the other side clasping his hands together in a bow of respect was Elder Khan.

  “I wondered how long it would be until you found me.” Elder Khan seated them around a round metal table.

  He was dressed for comfort in a tunic and loose pants with a drooping square of material that hung between his legs to his knees, the ends tucked into his waistband front and back.

  He boiled water in a blackened iron pot and offered his guests aromatic mint tea.

  Marina drank hers without her customary grimace. The tangy liquid was refreshing, cleansing her palate of the firefruit, unlike the black bitter tea the Dragon Lords choked down in their tea ceremonies. She preferred the way it was served in charming hand painted glasses.

  The serving was reserved and devoid of pageantry, leaving her relaxed and at ease.

  As Khan busied himself preparing his own tea, Marina’s eyes wandered.

  The room was decorated in plain swathes of earth dyed fabrics. Cool blue, warm brown, jungle green, and sandy beige. The fabric gathered in the centre of the ceiling, fanned out to the corners then rippled to the floor in sheer panels that stirred gently from the breeze drifting through the open window.

  The floor wasn’t covered in the customary sea grass tatami mats.

  Terracotta tiles were laid in an elaborate rhombus pattern, and intricately woven rugs were arranged across the middle in a strip where richly embroidered cushions were scattered.

  Peppery incense burned on low tables covered in semi precious stones that glittered and sparkled in the sunlight.

  She tried to find evidence of why Koen brought her there when she specifically said this man was not to be bothered.

  “He is no longer here, young highnesses.” Khan took a sip from his steaming glass. His accent wasn’t as thick as the Mages from the night before, lessened after years of adapting. “As he felt you moving closer through the fort, Princess, he left.”

  Marina nodded quickly rather than respond with words, not trusting her voice. Tears gathered above her lashes and blurred her vision. She was compelled to look an apology at Koen for thinking badly of him.

  Khan had the answers she sought after all.

  Boy was avoiding her.

  “When I was young,” Koen began, “my parents were alive. They were wonderful, but when I discovered I was different it was not them I sought to ease my pain. I looked for someone as different as I was. That male became my mentor.” Lips thinning as a tear rolled down her cheek, he visibly tensed. “Khan is the only Mage we are friendly with. It made sense Boy would seek him out for that alone.”

  “I never would have come here,” Marina mumbled. “That reasoning wouldn’t have crossed my mind.”

  “My insight into Boy’s mind is not a slight on yours.” Koen took her hand and laced their fingers together. He used their joined hands to swipe away the wet tracks lining her face. “Parenting is a path two must journey. I share with you the burdens and joys.” He paused. Muttered crossly under his breath. “Earlier you said you failed him. So have I. I should have reached out to him sooner. Perhaps he would have felt he could come to me and speak about bei
ng different had I been more approachable. We have that in common, our offspring and I.”

  “You have much more in common than you realise.”

  Koen and Marina turned to the older man who watched their affectionate exchange with a sad kind of joy. His expression wasn’t quite envy, more knowing, and hurt because of that knowledge.

  Marina wondered if he left a great love behind when he’d come to the Dragon Lands.

  “They do?” she asked.

  Stone faced, Elder Khan set his tea on the inlaid metal.

  He calmly placed his hands on his crossed knees.

  His white tagelmust hung in artful folds around his neck. It covered his salt-and-pepper dreadlocks, but his lower face was unveiled, exposing the dark brands on his weathered cheeks and his neatly groomed silver-speckled beard.

  His mysterious grey eyes grew haunted. “Let me tell you a story, about a leader of men consumed by darkness.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Koen worried. His Treasure had not spoken since leaving Elder Khan. He did not blame her for her silence. The news the Mage had to impart was troubling.

  “It will be alright.” Drawing her in an empty alcove for privacy, Koen banded his arms about her. He laced his fingers at her lower back to anchor her. “We shall get through this.”

  She butted her forehead against. “I can’t believe this.”

  “You doubt his claim?”

  “Not at all. That’s what’s killing me. I want to tell him he’s wrong, but considering the attack last night, and Boy’s powers manifesting so strongly so early, I’d be a fool not to believe.”

  “What do you wish to do?”

  She rubbed his broad shoulders. “You should probably return to make sure Daniil and Myron haven’t scratched each other’s eyes out. I’m off in search of House Ryu. Our rooms need readying. I’m sure Pasha and the House servants are all over it,” she lied quickly, knowing he’d get snarly if he thought she wasn’t being treated with the teeth-grating obsequiousness the Houses favoured. “But still, I’d like to be involved.”

  “You are not going to find Boy?”

  “I have answers now. I’m thankful to Elder Khan for that. Now we can finally assure Boy no matter what changes he’s experiencing because of his heritage we won’t send him away. I need him to understand he can trust us unconditionally. That our love for him is unending. I’m sick with worry he feels afraid of what he is when he’s so special.”

  Koen kissed her brow. “You will prevail, I am confident of this.”

  “Thank you. You go ahead.”

  She cupped his throat, fingers applying more pressure than usual. Though he wore leathers she could feel the firm curves of the hard muscle in his thighs pressed against her softer frame.

  The otherness stirred, startling her, abruptly alert and present at the forefront of her mind.

  It was a trial to let Koen go unmolested, but as she backed off, the presence grudgingly receded. “I’m going to rest here for a moment.” She forced a smile. “Clear my head before I face my newfound family.”

  Brushing his lips back and forth across her forehead, he hesitated to release her. He picked up on her sudden tension and assumed it was because of the painful reminder of why she needed to find a new living space. “You are certain you cannot mend this rift between you and Mikhail?”

  “You want me to?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her tone. Giving into the urge to touch him, her hand wandered down his sides to his lower stomach. The otherness was there but unmoving. She almost sighed in relief. “I thought you wanted to maim him?”

  “Not him.”

  Grimacing, Marina resolved to not let Cathryn within arm’s length of him for a while.

  “I may not like that he hurt you, but I respect what he has done for the people of Tzion, as Emperor and as a Council Mon. He is my elder, a Dragon Lord of note. I do not believe it was his intention to harm you.” He paused. “We all make mistakes.”

  “Will it make you feel better if I talk to him as soon as Aver is over?”

  Sharp teeth clamped playfully on her earlobe. “Only if it pleases you.”

  The grudge against Mikhail and Cathryn was long gone. Marina simply refused to entertain any other distractions during the tournament. She had larger concerns, like Boy and the Barren Mages. The otherness. If agreeing to talk to Mikhail after Aver would make Koen feel better she’d do so happily.

  “Alright. As soon as Aver’s done I’ll carve out an evening for me and my Sire to reconnect.” She smiled to convey her willingness. “Thank you for helping me this morning, and for yesterday. I needed that time with you badly.”

  “Soon, we will have nothing but time.” He hugged her tightly. Shivered when she swept a hand over the blunted crown of his shorn hair then ran her fingers through the longer length at the back. “I swear to you.”

  Koen left her and returned to the throne room.

  It was vacant.

  Myron and Daniil had taken their quarrel to a safer locale. Though he was tempted to return to Marina, he knew just where to look, and so put duty first.

  Slipping out of his clothes into dragonskin he used a window as egress and dug his claws into the red rock parapet. He nimbly scaled the hard, pitted surface and slinked onto Myron’s stone balcony situated at the apex of the Citadel.

  There his closest allies sat sipping fireberry wine and eating great platters of fresh grilled fish.

  Dragons loved seafood.

  Freshwater fish was delicious, but nothing beat a three hundred pound catch straight from the deep.

  Turning human then magicking a loin flap in response to the Regent’s pointed look at his naked groin, Koen scooped up a chunk of hot, succulent flesh and tossed it into his mouth.

  Subtle flavours exploded across his tongue.

  He took another, letting his mind settle along with his posterior on one of the heavily padded seats.

  Sipping from his goblet, Myron gave him the time he needed to gather his wits.

  Wiping his mouth, with a square of cloth, Daniil proved aberrantly impatient. “Well?” The Dragon Lord leaned over and placed his elbows on the table either side of his plate. Eyes keen, lips whitening. “What did you learn?”

  Koen shook off the last of his distraction over the haze of unhappiness he’d sensed surrounding his Treasure. “We visited Elder Khan.”

  Myron stiffened. “I thought–”

  “Marina protected the old man.” Koen gave his mentor a level look. “Boy has been going to him in secret for training. Did you know of this?”

  The Regent set down his drink then folded his hands over his still flat stomach.

  Koen knew he stalled for time to carefully choose his words.

  And politicians wondered why he couldn’t stand them – always scheming and lying to people’s faces.

  At least a warrior was honest.

  A male lunged for your throat with claw and fang there was little to doubt about his intentions.

  Politicians danced around an issue, smiling, and calling themselves friends then stabbed you in the back when you least expected it.

  He disliked Myron played these games with him.

  Was it a wonder he had trust issues when the people around him acted thus? He smiled in the face of his bitter thoughts. It was yet another reason he loved his Treasure so. There was no duplicity in her, no secret agenda in her affection for him.

  Her passion was as raw as his.

  Perhaps his original plan to subdue her and steal her away to his secret lair–

  “I recognised the youngling for what he was the moment I set eyes upon him,” Myron confessed, glib. “Why do you think I offered lessons? Out of the goodness of my heart?” He gave a dragon like snort. “He is extraordinarily bright. I wanted to take his measure and see if he truly was a misplaced orphan, or an assassin sent to catch you and the Princess at your weakest.”

  Daniil caught the eye twitch. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Koen
lied smoothly. He glanced at the Regent. “Continue.”

  Myron eyed him suspiciously, but did as asked. “After the incident with the broken hand and exploding furniture, I knew he needed guidance from his own kind.”

  The incident in question made them all nervous.

  Boy had crushed the hand of a fellow lordling from one of the noble Houses. It was the second incident of its kind. The accuser claimed Boy attacked him without provocation causing the youngling’s mother to goad the Sire into noting a blood feud on the political stones against House Zar. Rather than disturb Marina, Mikhail accepted the challenge then thrashed his adversary so thoroughly stories of his brutality flared through the nobility, causing his offspring to find out about the whole confrontation. Marina had isolated Boy to gather the truth from his lips, refusing to listen to any second hand tale. When she left his chamber and returned to her training there had been a thunderous ruckus that caused the floor to shake. When his door was opened, Boy’s chamber was trashed. In the space of a few seconds his solid wood bed – that took three Dragon Men to move – had slammed so hard into the outer rock wall it was wedged there. Koen discovered the lordling Boy injured spewed hateful rumours about the High Princess. He spread the common assumption Marina gave birth to Lord Kol’s bastard then pretended he was an orphan she’d found. This was accepted as the reason why she’d failed the purity examination, which she then subsequently bribed her way around. The whole circumstance had merely been a youngling overhearing malicious whisperings then testing his growing manhood by picking on Boy, someone he considered weaker and beneath him in status. The challenge on the political stones was an overreaction only granted by the Regent because he needed to show in as many ways as possible that he did not favour the Zar’s.

  In the end, Koen understood and accepted Boy’s reaction, even if no one else did.

  Truthfully, he was not surprised Myron identified Boy’s origins and sought to help.

  He and Marina were distracted with other matters, otherwise they would have done so themselves – hence his Treasure’s bout of guilt.

  Regardless, Koen felt as if the male had gone behind his back. He felt possessive of Boy almost as much as Marina.

 

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