by Emma Hamm
But the dragon. She had known the dragon wouldn’t let the arrow touch the King. So why had she tried to stop it?
She’d seen the glint in the bushes and recognized the shape of the weapon. An arrow head. She always knew what they looked like. As if time had slowed, she looked toward the King and the young woman who had moved in front of him.
Beauty.
That foolish girl had no idea what she’d done. She had put herself in front of the King, ready to let the arrow pierce her heart because that was the righteous thing to do. Her heart was too big for a castle like this and for the shadows that lingered, waiting to pull her apart.
Lorelei couldn’t let the arrow hit her. She didn’t know if the King would even save the girl who was simply too kind for this place.
In doing so, she had given herself up. What kind of woman carried a dagger with her? Not even one for dinner, but clearly a wicked blade with black metal and a curved handle, so she could use it with a backhanded motion.
An elven blade that was forged with the steel of her ancestors. She’d been there when it had been made by the blacksmith who’d drunk all the moon’s power. He had imbued this weapon with every ounce of his devotion to the craft. And now the King knew it existed.
But she couldn’t have let Beauty die.
Even the dragon stared at her, shocked. The beast shouldn’t have been able to have that kind of emotion on his face, but there it was. Wide eyes. Sides heaving. Mouth slightly open to reveal all those wicked teeth.
Finally, Lore looked to the King. He stood with his arms limp at his sides, clearly surprised that anyone had tried to stop the arrow. Let alone her. He didn’t even notice Beauty standing in front of him, ready to protect her king. He threw her to the side as he walked toward Lore, clapping his hands.
“Bravo. I didn’t know there was a warrior in our midst,” the King called out.
“I am no warrior,” she replied. “Merely your servant, my king.”
“Obviously you are the only one here who could protect me.” That expression on his face was one of sly intelligence. “You were the only one who tried.”
She let her arms drop, though pointed at Beauty with the blade in her hand. “I think you’ll find there was another. I stopped the arrow. But she would have let it pierce her heart so that it didn’t hit you.”
He glanced over at Beauty with a dismissive look. She knew that look. The King wasn’t attracted to the soft woman he saw next to him, and therefore, he ignored the fact that she could have died.
At least he let out a low grunt and gestured at Beauty. “Yes, well. Thank you, dear maiden. I’d like to meet with you later tonight, if it pleases you.”
Beauty’s cheeks turned a bright red. She dipped into a shaky curtsey and nodded her head. Apparently, the girl was at a loss for words.
Lore hadn’t saved her so the girl could be thrown into the lion’s den. She wanted to scream at the child to run, to get far away from this castle that would tear her apart. But she couldn’t do that with everyone looking at her.
And suddenly she realized everyone was looking at her. They all stared with matching expressions of shock. Of course, they had never seen anyone do what she had done before. None of these ladies were warriors. They hadn’t grown up fighting for every scrap of food that they ate.
Anger riding on her shoulders, she met the King’s gaze once more. “I may have some training.”
“Using the word ‘some’ seems to be a rather extravagant lie, wouldn’t you agree?” The King stopped in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest. “You have more than a little training. What is your name?”
“Lorelei of Tenebrous.” The words stung, but she’d suffer the insult if it meant she got out of this alive.
“Lorelei of Tenebrous.” He repeated the words and circled her. “I know very few women who can do what you just did.”
“I know quite a few who can,” she corrected. “Tenebrous is full of women with surprising talents, my king.”
“But so few women like you. I have been through my kingdom, although you might think I have not. Tenebrous is a beautiful place made of swamps and people who are better off forgotten.” He paused in front of her again, looking her up and down. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there. Only the night of the bridal greeting, in fact. Where did you say you were from again?”
She needed to come up with an excellent lie, or he was going to feed her to the dragon. “I don’t think you would have seen me, my king. I am not among the nobility of Tenebrous, nor do I frequent those circles.”
“A thief!” he exclaimed. “Or something similar, I suppose.”
All the other potential brides started whispering. She already had such a long way to climb, and they hated her even more now. At least Beauty wasn’t looking at her like she’d peeled off her skin and revealed herself to be a dragon like the beast with heaving sides.
“Not a thief,” she whispered. “I never took anything that someone couldn’t give.”
“But you did steal,” he corrected. The King reacted explosively. One moment he stood in front of her, ready to listen to what she had to say. And the next, he’d recoiled away from her as though she were a leper. “A thief! In my castle?”
“I am but a woman who was chosen to compete for your hand.” Lore tried very hard not to snarl the words.
“There are very few thieves in Tenebrous, but most of them belong to a group I have heard called the rebellion.” His entire face changed. One moment, he was handsome. And the next, his features drew down into a sneer that was downright ugly. “Have you ever heard of them?”
Oh, no. This was bad. This was very, very bad, and there was no way for her to get out of this situation.
Lorelei needed to lie better than she ever had in her life. She drew herself up straight and tall, tucked the knife back into her pockets, and faked a smile. “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of them, my king. I understand that such a group would be very dangerous to your reputation, and the mere idea of their existence is horrific.”
“Is it?” His horrible expression never budged. “I think I need a little time with you, darling. Just to see how much you don’t agree with these practices.”
Metal hands clamped down on her shoulders. She flinched at the bitter cold touch and worry set in deep in her stomach. Anxiety churned through her, tearing up any and all rational thought.
She sought out Beauty and saw the young woman stood beside two others who were holding her back. At least they still had their wits about them. If she ran to Lorelei’s aid, then she would end up wherever they were taking Lore. And that wasn’t fair.
Lore gave her a sharp nod and ignored all the whispers that bloomed. Who was this woman that none of the others knew? Did Lorelei work for the rebellion? It would certainly make sense. She hadn’t ever fit in with the others, nor had she ever tried.
The dragon lurched forward slightly, then remained next to the King. She swore its muscles were quivering. Perhaps it already sensed its next meal in Lorelei, and the thought sent shivers down her spine. She wouldn’t die on a pyre like her mother. If she had to kill a hundred guards to make the King have the dragon eat her, then she would seek that fate with pleasure.
The Umbral Knights dragged her out of the garden and around the back of the castle. They didn’t even walk through the regular doors. Instead, they took her to the servant’s entrance that they kicked in. A few maids squeaked from inside the kitchen, scattering as soon as the shadowy Knights walked past them.
“Where are you taking me?” she snarled, even though she knew they would not respond to her question. They never spoke to the guilty.
She kicked out her feet, trying to catch the lip of a stone tile with her heels so she could at least fight back against them. But they dragged her ever forward, no matter how hard she fought against them.
They brought her to a set of double doors, stained black with age. The silver rivets on either side were perfectly polished to reflec
t the woman struggling not to go near them. Lore had heard of these doors.
The black opening into the dungeon of the Umbral Keep. The only doors that led into the dungeons that no one ever came out of.
“No,” she shouted, struggling ever harder to get out of the Umbral Knight’s arms. “Do not bring me down there! I saved the King, didn’t I? I didn’t try to kill him.”
They didn’t care at all. Of course they didn’t. Tin soldiers didn’t care for anything other than the whims of their master.
One of the Knights pushed the door open. Then they brought her, kicking and screaming, into the darkness. They dragged her down the long hallway framed by many cells. She continued to fight against them, but her movements grew weaker the farther away from those dark doors they dragged her.
She caught glimpses of the other prisoners. Some were men that had likely tried to kill the King. But most were creatures like her. Men with curled horns on their heads. Women with tails that turned their backs to her. Even a child with eyes too big for his head.
These were magical creatures. Every single one of them. And he’d locked them up because he didn’t see the value in people who were different.
She should have let the arrow go. Maybe it would have sliced through Beauty and struck him in his black, evil heart.
The Umbral Knights tossed her into an open cell. She flew through the air and hit the ground hard on her hands and knees. The beautiful dress that Borovoi had crafted was no match for the dirt on the ground. It ripped at the knees. Her hands ached where tiny stones had dug into her flesh and drawn blood. Wincing, she leaned back on her haunches, holding her hands up to the dim light to see the damage.
The door clanked shut behind her. The harsh echo ringing through her head. Trapped.
“Even now, you don’t react as a normal woman would.” The King’s voice came out of the darkness as if she were in a nightmare. “Most would cry, or perhaps beg for their freedom. But you? You assess the damage first.”
Her spine was a steel bar from the top of her head to her hips. She would not bend or bow before a man like this. “I think you’ll find I spend very little time on my knees.”
“Ah. And so we have dropped the pretense.”
“I make no apologies for who I am.” She looked back at him and added, “But I am not part of this rebellion you speak of. I do not know what you’re talking about, nor do I wish to go against my king like that. Working against you would be signing my own death warrant.”
“Yes, it would,” he replied. The King leaned against the bars of her cell, staring down at his fingernails.
Did he not care that he’d locked her up? As far as he knew, she was an innocent woman who he was terrifying for no reason at all.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she muttered, remaining on her knees. “I know you think that my stopping an arrow is proof that I am someone other than I claim to be. But I am just a woman, like all the others here.”
“I believe you are much more than that.” The King pushed himself away from the bars. “But we’ll see how truthful you are. It’s difficult for most to lie to the one person who can terrify them into telling the truth.”
She had no idea who he was talking about. “Who?”
The King walked away, whistling down the hall. The jaunty tune echoed, creating a haunting melody that mocked her sudden fear.
Chapter 17
Abraxas
Abraxas could do nothing as the King took Lorelei away. And though his heart screamed at him to do something, anything, he knew that would only end in sadness for him. He had to make the right choice for his people, no matter the cost.
But he could do something for her. He could be the one to interrogate her, even though he knew she must not be anyone more than a regular woman who had found herself in trouble. There were many women among the potential brides who didn’t want to marry the King. They had already been sent home for failing him in the assassination attempt. Some of them were the ones that the King wasn’t attracted to, but many had simply not tried to capture Zander’s attention.
As soon as he’d seen the other women into their carriages, Abraxas caught up with the King as he made his way back to his chambers.
“My King,” Abraxas called out. “A word.”
“What is it, Abraxas?” Even Zander’s voice was a little quieter than normal. “I’m exhausted. This has been a very long, trying day. The drama, you know.”
“Of course. This won’t take long. I thought perhaps I could interrogate the young woman?” He held his breath, hoping that the King wouldn’t hear the desperation in his voice.
Zander blinked at him with a blank expression on his face. “What woman?”
Ah, this would be easier than Abraxas originally thought. “The young woman in your dungeon? The one you put there because you thought she was part of the rebellion.”
“Right! That one.” The King grinned and shook his head. “I’ve been so busy sending all those young women home. And it’s so sad to see them go, don’t you think? Forgot all about the one in my dungeon.”
Sometimes Abraxas hated him more than normal. The King refused to focus on anything serious, and instead, mourned the loss of adoring women who cheered when he walked into the gardens.
Abraxas didn’t find saying goodbye to any of those young women sad at all. He found it sad that Lorelei was sitting with criminals and thieves, wondering if the King was going to kill her for saving his life.
“Because I’m head of your personal guard, I thought you would want me to take care of the situation for you.” Abraxas had to throw every ounce of his concentration into not snarling the words like an animal. “If anyone can get the truth out of her, then you can be assured I will.”
Like he’d lit a fire in the King, Zander’s eyes bloomed with blood thirst. “Yes, of course. You are the only one who can scare her into telling the actual truth. Just make sure to tell me every gory detail when you’re done, would you?”
“You want the woman alive at the end, don’t you?” Abraxas waited for a response, but the King never replied.
Zander wandered down the hall, off balance from the wine he’d drunk. He never gave his dragon an answer.
One of these days, someone would really put an arrow through that man’s throat. The King was a spoiled brat with no real understanding of consequences, and Abraxas couldn’t wait until the day he was free of this lineage’s clutches. Even if that meant he was passed to another dynasty of kings, no one could be worse than this man or his father.
He stalked through the halls, past all the Umbral Knights who turned their heads as one to watch him pass. None of them trusted him, but that was the magic inside them. Zander’s father had them cursed so that they would protect the King at all costs. No matter who the person was that attacked him.
That was, after all, how Zander’s mother had died. She’d gotten tired of the abuse, the anger, the lies. She’d only thought to slap Zander’s father, but the Knights hadn’t seen it like that. A direct attack was still an attack.
Abraxas stopped in front of the black gates of the dungeon. He blew a long, steadying breath out of his lungs and met the gaze of the nearest Knight. “The King has declared that I will interrogate the new prisoner.”
The Knight nodded to two others, who immediately stood at attention, ready to enter the dungeon with him.
“I am going alone. The woman will be more frightened if it’s just me.”
The metal soldiers were clearly confused. They looked at each other, and then at the one who had originally summoned them to attention. Sometimes Abraxas wondered if there were actual thoughts behind some of them. The smoke inside their bodies had an intent right now, and that intent didn’t trust Abraxas for a second.
Still, the Knight relented.
The dragon had never given anyone reason to think that he would endanger the King. In fact, they all were aware of the hold their king had over him. They knew of the eggs. They knew of the
madness that hung over Abraxas every time he moved. If he put one clawed foot out of line, then everything he valued in this life would be lost.
Giving the Knights a single nod, he walked into the darkness of the dungeon and felt as though a noose had tightened around his neck. He hadn’t thought this far ahead in his plan. He’d wanted to be the one to speak with her, partly for his own curiosity and partly because he knew someone else would fabricate a story that would end in him eating her.
The castle’s inhabitants loved to watch the dragon feast.
Some of the prisoners stood at his approach, only to immediately hide as they recognized who it was. They’d all seen him in his dragon form. None of them wanted to test the beast who had killed so many of their kind.
She waited for him in one of the farthest cells, crumpled on the floor like someone had thrown a flower into the dirt. Her blonde hair coiled around her shoulders, loosed today from its bindings. And her dress, that beautiful bubbling dress, had become ripped and stained.
“They didn’t treat you well,” he snarled. “As if you really are a criminal.”
She looked up at the sound of his voice, obviously startled to find him here. And did her breath catch in her throat? Did she lean forward like she wanted to come to him?
No, that was all in his head. They didn’t know each other, and she had every reason not to trust him.
Lorelei licked her chapped lips and asked, “What are you doing in the dungeons, Abraxas?”
“Interrogating you.”
He searched for the chair that he knew should be around here somewhere. The King visited the dungeons for entertainment when someone was being tortured for information. But Zander refused to stand for long, and there were always stools around here.
The cushioned item he found was rather out of place. In such a dark, dank room, there shouldn’t be something so luxurious as a silk pillow full of goose down, and yet, here it was. Waiting for someone to be comfortable while the rest of the inhabitants suffered.
