by Ann Denton
My mind was clear though. It said: I have to leave them. I shouldn’t have come. If I’d just hunted down the creature myself, just sent a letter instead of running back to Quinn, they wouldn’t be here arguing with me. They wouldn’t be in danger…
My eyes welled up, but I forced the tears down.
Sarding hell. I knew I was cursed. I never should have dragged them back into it. And now, to see any one of them hurt, it would kill me. Gah! I was stupid. Selfish.
I took a breath and tried to focus myself. Panic only led to bad choices.
Calm down, I scolded myself. There’s still time. They aren’t dead yet. You still have time to leave. You still can run. You still can try to save them. So that dragons won’t snatch them out of thin air as they did Lady Bane and her husbands.
That memory twisted my stomach and I had to grab onto Ryan’s shoulder to stay upright.
No, no, no.
Quinn must have told everyone what I was thinking, because Connor turned to me and said, “Bloss, calm down. We’ve had Wyle add as many precautions to the castle as possible. There’s a fire shield above us. You’ll be fine. Dragons won’t get to you. Or Avia.”
He didn’t know about my power. So, he couldn’t understand why my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Or why my throat went dry.
I can’t face the dragon in the castle. I’ll hurt people. So many people. I need to get away—my thoughts were logical, even if my body was in a panic. The years of strategy practice under pressure kicked in.
I stood, pushing off Ryan’s arms. I paced nearby as the inkling of a plan took shape in my mind. “I should get a spelled disguise from Wyle. I should look like Avia and go back to Lady Agatha’s lands. I’ll draw it to me.” I looked around the room.
Every head but Connor’s shook, vehemently.
“No,” they chorused.
They’re wrong, I thought. This would work. At least well enough to give them time to prepare. And protect Avia.
“It has to be. I can’t be near anyone. Ryan, your men can clear everyone off the land. In that cave, I heard those men say the beast would be drawn to Avia. It will be drawn to me if I look like her. And then I’ll tame it. Like my father.” I spoke with confidence, using every ounce of court-practiced fakery I had. I’d never tamed a beast in my life. We’d thought dragons were gone. Since I was eight years old, everyone had believed them killed off.
“NO!” Ryan roared.
I took a step back. His anger was ferocious.
“Absolutely not, Bloss,” Declan dismissed me and opened a book.
If you run, I’m going after you. I’m going with you. I won’t leave you, Quinn threatened.
You will sarding not. I am still your ruler.
“This isn’t up for discussion, this is the plan,” I said aloud.
Declan slammed his book shut. “You think you can order us around?”
“I’m the crown princess.”
“You’re our wife,” Ryan roared.
“No. I’m not. That’s why I ran. Because if a queen dies, her knights do too—” Tears filled my eyes. It didn’t matter that I wanted to be their wife. Needs always came before wants. And a queen has an endless list of needs to attend to. Another of my mother’s heartwarming sayings. Love … wasn’t an option.
I turned to Avia. “When I’m—spread the dragon hunting story. That I’ve gone to the mountains again. And when you’re of age … please consider them—”
Avia covered her ears and started screaming. “I won’t! I won’t!”
“What the hell has everyone so worked up?” Connor asked.
“Bloss is trying to commit suicide,” Declan said dryly.
“What? She’s a beast tamer, a peace maker, just like her father. She’ll be fine—”
“Her power—” Ryan growled
“Is uncontrollable,” Declan got out.
“What?” Connor was incredulous.
Quinn grabbed Connor’s arm and stared at him. A minute later, Connor turned to me as his face paled.
His mouth was a thin line. “That’s not sarding possible. She would have told me.” He stomped toward me and grabbed my arm roughly. He pushed up my sleeve, exposing the cross-hatched scars on my arms. The fresh bandages. The proof that my power had a deadly price.
He looked up at me; the fury in his eyes was as hot as dragon fire.“What the ever-loving hell? You hid this from me, Bloss?”
“She can’t talk about it, churl,” Avia had uncovered her ears. She came up and pried his arm off mine. “Nobody can.”
“What?”
I ignored Connor’s anger. I stared at Quinn. How’d you get around the geas to tell him?
Sometimes, I can string together enough mental images to get a point across. Quinn showed me. Quick images of dragons and knights and blood.
“Why are you sarding ignoring me? When did everyone figure this out?” Connor whirled and raged at the room at large.
“Ten minutes ago. And no one is ignoring you,” Declan sighed. “This is why we need to do things as a group, Quinn.” Declan gestured at Connor who was heaving breaths, as if he wanted to throw things just as Ryan had. “You see this? Who here wants to be in his place?”
Connor punched Declan. “I don’t know what the sard you’re talking about.”
Ryan grabbed Connor by the collar. “Watch it. Right now, he’s the only one on your side, you pretentious ass.”
“What side? Why are there sarding sides?” Connor bellowed.
Quinn took over again.
Connor’s eyes darted between him and me. “Marry her? Are you joking? Why the hell would you marry a woman who abandoned us and—”
Ryan clapped his hand over Connor’s mouth. “You don’t want to finish that sentence. You don’t want me to hit you.”
Connor jerked away and walked toward the door. “You’ve all been sarding spelled! You know that? Every step of the way. That’s all this is.”
“You think we’ve been spelled to love Bloss?” Declan asked.
“Of course, we have.”
I know I haven’t been, Quinn stared steadily at Connor. But his words rushed over me, filling me with both elation and terror.
He can’t love me. They can’t love me, my mind said.
No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. Don’t make this harder—
Quinn just glared at me.
Declan shook his head. Pity came over his features as he regarded Connor. “You can tell yourself you were spelled if you want. But haven’t you researched spells? They don’t have the capacity for more than a single emotion. If you were under a love spell, you’d never be able to hate her this much.”
Connor’s mouth gaped open.
Mine would have done the same, if I hadn’t started kicking myself. I’d studied spells with Wyle. I’d made love spells. Not good ones. But I should have remembered. My stomach sank. Connor’s hatred was real. But a tiny piece of me, a piece tinged with regret and longing, rejoiced. Because it meant my memories were true. And my love for him was true. I loved him. Just as now, I loved all of them.
One look at Connor told me it didn’t matter. No amount of logic was going to erase his anger at me … or Declan.
Hurt and disappointment skipped across my stomach like stones. I tried to ignore it, but defensive words popped out before I could reign them in. “For the record, I’ve asked Wyle to remove all spells from all of you. Except for those that keep you physically safe.” As soon as I said that, I wanted to kick myself. Those words didn’t matter. Wouldn’t matter to Connor, who was determined to hate me. But my stupid mouth continued, “He’s also supposed to be working on the distance spell, which he’s loosened, so that no one has to be within ten feet of me anymore.”
“No!” Declan and Ryan protested. Quinn shook his head and slipped toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
To make sure Wyle does not follow your order on that one. No sarding way we’re letting you go again, Bloss. You’re stuck with u
s. For life and death. Quinn slammed the door closed behind him.
“You idiot!” I screamed at the door, rushing after Quinn.
Ryan grabbed my arm and held me back. He pulled me against his chest. “Bloss, we’re your knights. We’re bound to protect you. Even from yourself.”
Tears streaked down my face, racing the pain radiating up from my heart. “You can’t.”
“We can.”
I shook my head but didn’t speak. Further argument was pointless. We were at an impasse.
And they were wrong.
I looked over. Connor was arguing with Declan over the complexity of love spells. Avia had pulled the bell pull and was pacing, waiting for a servant to arrive. I could feel the tension threading through the room, tying everyone up in knots.
Declan and Connor’s voices rose another decibel.
“Ask the sarding queen if you don’t believe me. Bloss left so you wouldn’t bleed out like a stuck pig, you yellow-bellied cringeling!”
“What did you call me?”
“You’re scared!”
Connor grabbed Declan’s shirt. “I’m not—”
“You’re scared she’ll do it again. But guess sarding what? She won’t. Because none of the rest of us will let her.”
He was wrong.
I’d leave them behind. Even though the thought left my insides as dark and lifeless as a shadow.
I’d figure out how to get away from them and seek out that dragon.
Connor pushed Declan away. Declan just snarled, “Find your bawbles and your spine. Because we’ve got a sarding dragon to face, a shite-show between Cheryn and Sedara coming down the pipe, and a godforsaken suitor—”
A page rushed into the room, interrupting Declan.
“The party from Cheryn. They’re here! They arrived early!”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Shite,” I blew out a breath. I turned to everyone in the room. “Get changed. Quickly. Formal greeting wear. Ryan, full armor for you and your men.”
“Won’t that look aggressive?”
“We don’t know who sent that sarding dragon. Could be Macedon. Gitmore. Cheryn. Could even be Sedara; they could be angry we’re considering Cheryn as allies. So, we are all on guard. At all times. And if you aren’t going to let me go back to Lady Agatha’s province, then we need soldiers sent there and we need to move the cattle and people away from there without arousing suspicion. Declan, I’ll let you handle the latter. Quinn, find out who sent this beast. And I want two people protecting Avia at all times.”
Avia opened her mouth in protest but I raised my hand. “You didn’t want the crown princess job. So, you’re listening to me until you’re forced to take it.”
She glared at me. But everyone broke ranks and went their separate ways to get ready and execute orders. Declan trailed after me as Connor stomped off, muttering to himself.
As I was stuffed into a blue brocade dress with a train that took two servant girls to manage it, I ran through the possible suspects in my head.
Whoever had set out to attack Avia had done so before I returned. Abbas’ visit had been scheduled before then. So, if our northeastern neighbors, the royal family of Macedon, had been feeling slighted since their princess was overlooked, that was a possibility. Was a slight enough for an attack?
I was doubtful.
But Cheryn and Sedara had been fighting, or at least swiping at one another, for nearly a year. What if Sedara was more than just annoyed by my mother’s choice to entertain Cheryn’s princes as suitors for Avia?
I dug my fingers into my palms. Too many countries hated us right now. Those theories didn’t even count our long-time enemy, Gitmore. We’d stripped them of weapons at the end of the last Fire War. They’d been pretty bitter since.
Sarding hell. Of all the times for a stupid suitor visit. We’d be up to our eyeballs in formal events and bullshite public outings when we needed to hole up and strategize.
I bit my lip as a maidservant twisted and plaited my hair and placed a tall filigreed golden and pearl crown on my head. The front of the crown had a headdress that dipped down onto my forehead, where diamonds dangled. Beautiful. Intimidating. Heavy as hell. I looked at my reflection, practicing my face for greeting the smarmy ass who’d come to inspect our kingdom and see if he found it beneficial to ally with us.
I couldn’t think about him coming here to judge Avia. That just made my cheeks grow red hot as I thought about yanking off my crown and smashing his crooked teeth out with it.
My personal butler appeared at that moment. “The party from Cheryn has arrived and is awaiting you in the throne room, Your Highness.”
“It’s just the one prince?”
“Yes. Abbas. The eldest, Your Highness. The others are ill at the moment.”
I nodded in acknowledgment. “Wonderful. Will my mother be greeting the party from Cheryn as well?”
He shook his head. “No, Your Highness. Her Majesty is not feeling … well, at the moment.”
I fought the bile that rose in my throat. My first formal appearance with a foreign royal, alone. I might rather face the dragon. At least then, I’d know what was coming.
I took a deep breath. Declan came forward and claimed my arm, having just thrown an embroidered doublet over his shirt and tossed on an ornamental sword. I looked at the pair of us in the mirror for a second. We were opposites, with my long brown locks and his blond hair. My coloring was olive-toned, whereas Declan had a hint of pink to his skin. In our formal wear, standing straight and solemn, we looked like different people. We didn’t look like a scholar and an unruly princess. Our reflection showed a queen and her knight.
I hope this intimidates the shite out of Abbas, I thought.
“Come on, Peace.”
I squeezed Declan’s arm one last time, shutting down all the jingling nerves inside. I would do this. I could do this.
Time to play pretend.
The herald announced all four of my knights first, and they preceded me into the throne room. When I was announced, I slowly made my way across the hall and up the steps to my throne, the largest of the five on the dais. I turned, waiting for the servant girls to hastily fix my train and trail it over the stairs. And then I sat. Everyone relaxed from their bows.
I met Abbas’ gaze for the first time. He wasn’t incredibly tall, maybe five foot ten. But his face was well-made, sharply defined. He had a smooth dark brow, brown skin and eyes, and his hair was jet black. He had a beard, which to me only emphasized his age difference from my sister all the more. Dressed scandalously for our court, he wore only loose pants, tied with a draw-string. He wore no shirt, leaving his sculpted abs on display. His muscled biceps were laced with tattoos and he had rings on nearly every finger. Wonderful. Avia was a teenage girl. Warning her away from him would be like warning bees away from flowers. Bears away from fish. Dragons away from sheep.
Salamanders away from fire, Quinn contributed, helpfully.
Shut it. This is terrible.
Abbas’ eyes met mine and I gave a jolt. Somehow, his dark gaze shot right through me. He was a sarding predator. And for a millisecond, he let me see it. My stomach dropped. His grin widened. And he didn’t have crooked teeth. His smile was perfect. Perfectly feral. He’d eat poor Avia alive.
Stop it! Djinn can smell fear, remember?
Shite. I widened my fake smile and focused on the bunny rabbits Quinn conjured hopping between the nobles’ feet.
I could feel Abbas’ gaze on me though, studying, judging. I wondered what he saw.
Avia was announced. And the weight of his gaze lifted, like a physical force, from off my shoulders. He turned to see Avia.
My younger sister paraded in, her crown a small tiara of silver leaves and diamonds. She was dressed in a deep gold, and her hair had been put into ringlets. She looked every bit the innocent treasure. My heart swelled with pride and misery. My eyes swept the room.
Abbas’ gaze was riveted to Avia as she came up the aisle t
oward the dais. Unfortunately, so was Mateo’s. I spotted the ambassador’s son staring longingly at my sister.
Dammit.
Luckily, mother had trained Avia well enough that she gave no one in the crowd more than a passing glance. She joined us on the dais.
The herald started spouting formalities as we all smiled at the crowd.
Quinn, keep your eye on Meeker, the Sedarian ambassador. And on Mateo.
On it. I have people in the crowd as well, already positioned near Meeker. I’ll put someone on Mateo.
Who do you have on Abbas?
A couple invisibles in his rooms. No sign of those stolen elven chains yet, though they report he has a glowing blue ring in his room. That might be a djinn thing though? I think I saw that on another half-djinni down at the tavern in the capital … I also have a couple other servants ready to use disguise spells and replace his servants on my word.
Good. Think you could get a hair bead on him?
No. But the way he looked at you, I bet you could.
I suppressed a shudder. I don’t know if my hands are quick enough for that.
We’ll let Connor get a read on his moods, and then we’ll talk.
Once the official announcements were over, I had to invent an activity to keep us entertained until it was time for a welcoming feast. Since Abbas was not supposed to arrive until nightfall, the kitchens weren’t ready for the feast yet. So, instead, I turned to the nobles gathered in the throne room and said, “We will retire to the yellow salon for entertainment. Our first game shall be jingling. Be warned, any of you who enter the yellow salon, you will be made to participate.” My eyes twinkled.
I was using a tactic my father Lewart often had. It was a dual-purpose exercise. It was team-building for those with nothing to hide and it helped me sort out courtiers with too high an opinion of themselves or those desperate for approval. It would let me take the measure of Abbas and see if he was as aloof as reports painted him. Or if he was willing to engage with my sister and strangers and adapt to new circumstances.
