“I’ll behave,” Amelia interrupted. “I promise.”
The woman looked unconvinced, but dropped the remainder of the lecture, and moved around the room, issuing instructions to the party’s subsequent members.
It took another half-hour, but eventually everyone was in place, and the group began the prolonged procession. The crowd had been moved from the banquet hall into the grand throne room, where those of highest rank sat closest to the throne on elegant benches of carved dragon shapes. Stained glass windows, illuminated by flickering lights, occasionally offered a glimpse of flames, and winged creatures represented in the colorful images.
Amelia’s eyes did not take in the beauty of the normally forbidden chamber, instead focused intently on remaining the instructed three paces behind the train of her sister’s elegant gown.
Only when they reached the steps leading to the throne did Amelia pause, glancing in an attempt to find Stephen. He was exactly where she’d expected, standing beside his younger brother in the second pew.
She flashed a quick smile, which Stephen returned, before turning to follow her sister’s ascension.
Heels striking polished marble, she reached the steps on the left side while the high priestess of Kalleen moved to the right, and Kaliyah to the center. Other leaders and dignitaries lined the steps up to this trio.
All seemed to hold their breath as the priestess turned to address those gathered. “Sons and daughters of Kamar, great goddess who melds flesh and flame within our blood, we ask you to be with us now for the coronation of our new queen.
“A full year has passed since the death of our previous and beloved monarch, Queen Eliana. Now, our time of traditional mourning has ended. Claiming the throne tonight is the eldest child of our late queen, Princess Kaliyah.
“Before I can begin the ceremony, I am required, by the goddess we serve, to ask if anyone claims the right to challenge Kaliyah’s assent to this most honored and sacred throne?”
As one, the room seemed to take a breath, heads remaining as still as possible, yet eyes swept the room nonetheless. No challenge was expected, but once the crown was placed upon Kaliyah’s head, and the necklace of Kamar secured around her neck, none would be permitted to challenge, nor to question her command, for the following six years. And even then, only one of royal blood would be permitted to do so. Rational, or not, Amelia’s greatest fear was that someone would challenge her sister. One of the high-ranking nobles perhaps, or the son of one seeking to prove themselves.
The uneasy room remained silent.
The priestess drew an audible breath of relief, as though she too had feared an alternative claim, and continued, “Since none hath offered objections, I shall proceed with the coronation. First, I shall administer, and the queen will take, her sacred oath, after which I’ll adorn her with the jewels of Kamar.”
She turned to Kaliyah bowing her head, a gesture which Kaliyah returned before kneeling down in front of the silver throne she would soon occupy.
Standing in golden robes, the priestess began, “Princess Kaliyah, do you vow to protect this land, and the people who dwell upon it, with the grace of the gods you serve? To guard those who follow you from all who would seek to cause harm? To defend this kingdom from foreign and internal threats alike? To trust your people, and govern in a manner benefitting all, from the highest to the lowest of ranks, mortal and immortal alike, from this moment until your last?”
“I do so vow,” Kaliyah answered solemnly.
“Do you pledge yourself to the goddess? That you will allow Kamar to guide you in her great wisdom, and aim to lead in her grace?”
“I do.”
“With the power bestowed upon me, by she who blesses our people and guides our kingdom in all ways, I name you Queen of Kalleen, and grant you the gifts of both crown and sacred amulet.”
The priestess turned, motioning for a young woman standing behind her to step forward. The girl carried a large pillow, upon which lay the mentioned adornments. Reaching first for the necklace, the priestess grasped the ends, displaying the thick silver carved into the shape of two dragons, each with blue-diamond eyes. As the clasp was fastened behind Kaliyah’s pale neck, Amelia’s breath caught at the memory of her mother wearing the same symbol.
The priestess reached for the silver crown, holding it high before laying it to rest upon Kaliyah’s brow, where by design it tucked perfectly into her coiled hairstyle.
“I give unto you, Kaliyah of Kalleen, the jewels granted to our ancestors when the first dragon was born among us. Protect these sacred treasures with the same care you have vowed to exercise over this kingdom and its people.”
The priestess turned from Kaliyah to face the gathered crowd. “My lords and ladies of Kalleen, your queen.”
The pronouncement shattered the expectant silence, those gathered giving a cheer as Kaliyah rose to face her people, a princess no longer.
As she seated herself upon the silver throne, the cheering transformed to a distinctive chant.
“Long live the queen!”
Chapter 5
The revelry lasted all night, people celebrating the crowning of their new ruler with joy and mirth. Together, the citizens of Kalleen danced ancient steps under swirling firelight, transforming the room to an elaborate gala of bows, twirls, and laughter. The party culminated with the rising sun. Dragons, one and all, shed their shimmering garments and took wing, filling the sky with a display that left those below in awe.
Amelia dutifully flew a few wingspans behind her sister, her blue scales cool in the frigid air, though the fire within kept her from feeling the cold. Her sister, and now queen, took the form of a silver dragon, eyes transforming to vivid blue. With her shimmering, reflective hide, she could vanish amongst the fluffy clouds, brushing aside the formed crystals that clung to her wings with each powerful beat.
Beside Amelia, and much larger with scales nearly pure white, flew Stephen. What she lacked in size though, she made up for with her blue flames, which burned with more heat than the golden fire the majority of dragons possessed.
Not that she had ever, thankfully, needed to test this ability for combative use. Her mother, the late queen, had been a powerful ruler, who reigned during a time of peace. Their people flourished under her leadership, and it had been a deep loss to all when she at last submitted to death’s eternal embrace, having ruled the land over six hundred years.
Amelia had been only twenty-three at the time of her passing, and envied her sister’s near century with the woman they alone had called Mother. A year later, she found herself longing anew to hear the voice that had guided her through so many confusing nights as she struggled to come to terms with the transformation demanded by their goddess.
She had been fifteen the first time she had felt the call, the transformation not painful so much as frightening. The crunch of shifting bones while scales rose to blanket her stretching skin. Once complete, she had stood in her room, a young dragon for the first time.
Amelia presumed she would have to be taught to fly, yet discovered that once in her winged shape, her body seemed to intuitively know how to respond, even if she did not. More startling, she was no longer alone in her own head. Not exactly a second conscious, for the dragon rarely spoke. Its presence more of a primal beast that pressed against her mind.
One’s first transformation was always the worst. The fear of the change, and lack of physical control, emerged with the fury of a creature who had spent a lifetime suppressed under its meager human form. Most dragons transformed early in the morning, drawn to the light of a rising sun. Amelia, though, had transformed at dusk, where her blue scales glowed under a darkening sky. She recalled little of her first flight. The dragon had taken over, reducing Amelia to a prisoner in her own mind.
She had awoken the following morning back in her usual form, exhausted from the night’s flight, with her mother by her bedside. Confused, she had sprung from the bed, jerking back the sleeves of a white gown she d
id not remember wearing the previous night. Expecting to find blue scales, she had let out a sigh of relief as she found soft, pale skin. She touched her arm, looking for any sign of the dragon.
“Your gown was shredded,” her mother had explained calmly. “I dressed you after your return to human form.”
“What happened?”
“You received the blessing of Kamar. ’Tis a great honor to be chosen; not all are, as you are aware.”
She had referred to Amelia’s best friend, Kelsie, who had passed her nineteenth summer without transformation. Though Kelsie had been a few years older than Amelia, the princess had been devastated when she learned her friend had failed to gain the favor of the goddess, and heartbroken when Kelsie was removed from the palace to live amongst the mortal population.
Amelia now recalled her first transformation. How she had clawed at her arms as the itchy scales spread, covering her smooth skin. The ground appeared smaller as she rose into the crisp air, driven by a compulsion she had never experience. A glimpse of blue flame.
“I don’t understand.” Amelia had shaken her head. “Why did I transform at night? Dragons are creatures of sun and fire.”
“Most are,” her mother had answered. “But occasionally, special dragons are blessed by the goddess of moonlight. The blue coloring of your dragon form marks you as one of these selected few. You will be sensitive to the pull of moonlight as others are called to the sun.”
Amelia’s face had fallen. “Does this mean I’ll never fly with the other dragons?”
“Not at all.” Her mother had given a gentle smile. “You will be most comfortable among moonlight, and for these first months, the transformation shall come upon you at nightfall. Do not worry; eventually you’ll learn to control the change, and tame the beast within. In time, you’ll be able to transform at will, as do all dragons.”
The compassionate understanding had eased Amelia’s fears, and offered a comfort no other had been able to match, until she had found Stephen. Having met him prior to her mother’s death, he had proven a comfort in her grief, without which she would have floundered after the unimaginable loss.
Her mother had not been especially old by dragon standards. Members of powerful families commonly survived two, or in rare cases even three, thousand years before old age claimed them. However, during Amelia’s nineteenth year, her mother had succumbed to an illness, which none seemed able to cure.
The realization this joyous occasion was also the anniversary of her mother’s death placed a fresh pang in Amelia’s heart. This processional flight, allowing the dragon within to push back the heartache, was a blessing. After all, only humans could cry for their loved ones; dragon eyes remained eternally dry.
Amelia pushed these thoughts from her human mind. Her dragon form had continued the formational flight even as her mind wandered. She appreciated the jagged mountains and rolling valleys from her view among the clouds. From this vantage, everything below seemed serene, peaceful. The powerful beat of her wings cut through the air, carrying her with ease as she followed her sister, hints of ice melting against her fire-laden wingtips.
When the group landed, they did so on various balconies, festivities officially concluded with the end of the ceremonial flight.
Amelia immediately transformed back to human form. The shifting of bones was always disturbing, though thankfully painless as her wings retreated into her back. The blue scales also receded, as though absorbed by her skin, causing an itching sensation that tested her self-control not to scratch.Transition complete, Amelia headed immediately toward her chambers where a hot bath would be waiting, having been drawn by one of the castle’s many servants. Grateful to see the steaming water, Amelia sank down immediately into the tub, reaching for a bristled brush.
“May I help?”
Stephen’s voice brought a smile as she stared up to meet his eyes before allowing her gaze to slide down his body, his pale skin unblemished by the change. His chiseled chest and flat stomach featured a thin line of black hair, drawing her eyes down. As she stared at the hard flesh between his thighs, her lower stomach tightened.
Stepping closer to the side of the tub, he leaned down and took the brush from her hand. “With your permission, my lady?”
“Please,” she answered, sliding forward in the expansive basin as he climbed in behind her, warm water sloshing.
Once settled, he buffed her flushed skin, easing the itch.
“Thank you,” she practically purred, basking in the relief granted by the soft bristles against her skin. She leaned into his embrace, pressing her back to his chest, the tips of her golden hair dipping into the water as she relaxed.
His hands came around her, encircling her slender waist before rising higher, cupping the underside of her creamy breasts.
“I’m so tired,” she spoke softly, only to gasp as his hands closed lightly over her.
His fingers traced circles before running his thumbs over her nipples, which tightened under his touch.
Amelia raised her arms, tilting back her head enough to draw Stephen’s lips to her own for a passionate kiss, his tongue sliding along hers as she gave into his touch. She turned, water splashing outside the tub as she faced him, rising to her knees to press her breasts to his lips, inviting desire to replace exhaustion.
Obliging, he suckled gently, then more aggressively, applying enough pressure with his teeth to leave imprints on her skin.
The pain of the bite drew another gasp from Amelia’s lips, which turned into a moan as Stephen’s hand pressed between her thighs, stroking. Her hands moved to his broad shoulders to steady herself.
Stephen moved his lips, licking across her chest to her other breast, pressing his teeth down, stopping just shy of breaking skin. The mix of pleasure and pain played to her inner beast, drawing the creature forth enough to change her eyes from blue to reptilian green.
“Stephen,” she panted his name on a heated exclamation. Understanding her warning, he released her breast, and focused on stroking the place between her legs, where a patch of blonde curls matched the wet locks flowing down her back.
He slipped a finger inside her, and she moaned, the sound and hungry shift of her hips calling to his own beast. Stephen immediately stood, pulling Amelia from the water. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms around his chest, as he carried her from the bath, through the door to deposit her on the bed.
Stephen did not spend time on additional foreplay, instead falling on top of the soaked princess, pushing her legs wide as he crawled between them. He glanced at the woman beneath him, glistening with remnants of the warm water, her damp hair splayed around her. The tips of her breasts were tight, flushed skin marked with an imprint of his teeth where he had staked his claim.
Unwilling to wait further, he leaned over her, pressing his lips to hers as he thrust his hips. She gasped at the rough intrusion.
Once fully embedded, he did not pause for her to adjust, instead pulling back until he was barely within her, before thrusting immediately back inside. Full-length, demanding strokes. He liked her this way, somewhere between passion and pain, pushing her limits. The thrill of seeing the royal dragon’s flames peeking from her glowing eyes as he forced his way inside her. Stephen had never had a taste for gentle lovemaking. He delighted in the knowledge he alone could count himself among her lovers, having taken the virgin princess to bed shortly after the passing of her royal mother.
To hasten her pleasure, he reached down to stroke the delicate nerves above where their bodies connected. He paused, buried deep inside, and rubbed with his thumb long enough to feel her moisten slightly before continuing his rough intrusion, plunging in and out until his body tightened. He groaned his pleasure as he spilled himself inside her.
When he was finished, he collapsed, selfishly reluctant to withdraw from the princess who had given her heart far too easily.
Chapter 6
Awaking hours later, Amelia realized she had overslept. She r
eached for Stephen, but found herself alone on the bed, with the covers pulled tight. Stephen must have moved her into the blankets at some point, though in her exhaustion, she had no recollection of him doing so.
Stretching, Amelia rose groggily. Selecting a simple black gown from the closet, she slipped the garment over her head, grateful the clothing required none of the multiple layers of undergarments that had been necessary the previous evening. Running a brush swiftly through her golden locks, she coiled the strands into a bun as neatly as she could manage, and went in search of her sister.
As many of the nobles had planned to leave in the mid-afternoon, the hallways were eerily quiet, save for the sound of her footsteps against the stone floor. The silence a welcome relief, but she hoped her absence had not been taken as an offense to any of the departing lords and ladies.
She walked into her sister’s primary living quarters, and found her seated at a rectangular table reading over a stack of scrolls, several advisors standing nearby.
“Ah, Amelia,” the new queen greeted. “Good of you to finally join us.”
“Sorry,” she apologized. “You know I’m more of a night person.”
“A child of blessed moonlight,” she mockingly applied the term her mother had used with such endearment.
Amelia ignored the tone. “Would you prefer me to come back later?”
“No,” Kaliyah answered. “Stay. I have some important matters which we must discuss.”
“Oh?”
“Take a seat while I finish with Lord Salvar.” She motioned to the older man on her left.
Amelia obediently sat across from Kaliyah, losing herself to private thoughts as her sister spoke of the treasury status, which had been drained to pay for the coronation, and additional matters that Amelia found equally boring. As the voices droned on, she absentmindedly spun her mother’s ruby ring—the only item she possessed from the late queen—and was thankful she had been the second born.
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