Dragonfly Refrain

by Aimee Moore

  Then I exited the bathing room to find Karne gone. I sighed with relief, making my way to the bed. It looked inviting with its plush blankets and pristine mattress. Perhaps if I claimed it first, Karne would be decent enough to seek rest elsewhere. In the very least, I could knee him in the groin and leave.

  I crawled between the sheets and sighed with bliss as rest began to whisk me away to dreaming.

  It was dark in the room when movement in the bed next to me jolted me awake. I gasped, looking behind me at the length of mattress that was formerly empty. Karne, completely naked, was getting under the blankets with me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Karne laughed quietly. “Sharing a bed with the woman I share a bond with, of course.”

  “Get out,” I said. “I wish to sleep alone.”

  Karne cut me a knowing grin in the moonlight. “Truly? Perhaps I didn’t do a good enough job earlier and you need more persuasion.”

  He stunk of another woman’s perfume. I got up with a huff, throwing the blankets back. “If you want me to keep pretending to be your wifely play thing, then you’ll do your best to keep your hands off of me from now on, Karne. My total submission was not part of the deal.”

  “You are not making it easy for me to snuff my allure. All I have to do is let you feel it and you’re mine, Seraphine.” Karne’s voice was cold in the dark room.

  I stopped in my tracks, searching the plush rug for answers. When I turned back to Karne, honey-colored eyes glittered at me in the moonlight.

  “Do you think I find you attractive when you stink of other women?” I asked.

  Karne gave an easy shrug. “I have needs, Seraphine. And since being in bond is not an edict for devotion, I sought to relieve those needs elsewhere. You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “Would you care if I was?”

  Karne watched me for a time. “Yes, I would.”

  “If you want my loyalty, then you need to show me yours.” And with that hypocrisy burning my lips, I grabbed a fluffy blanket from the large chest at the foot of the bed. I settled into a plush chair with a footrest in front of it, finding it as comfortable as the bed. In time I found myself floating away once more. “Good night,” I whispered.

  “Good night, Seraphine.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞

  The next morning was a truly epic struggle in refrain. I wanted only to escape Karne, to go to my stone bench and see the man I love once more. But Karne insisted on dining together in our room. The whole affair would have made me frustrated with impatience, if it weren’t for the small, bloody knife under my food. I gasped at the disgusting display on my plate.

  “Karne, I don’t know what you ordered, but I cannot eat this. My fish is ruined.”

  He strode over to me to take a glance, then cursed, dropping his napkin and striding to the door. He shared quiet words with the man in waiting before returning. More servants came and cleared our plates. I frowned up at Karne as they left.

  “It was a threat,” Karne said.

  “So bold a threat? In my breakfast?”

  “Most Nialae threats are veiled, unseen until they come to fruition even. That was bold, and I know not why. Either they don’t truly want to hurt you, or they want to be known.”

  “Splendid,” I said, no longer hungry. “I wonder when it will be poison next.”

  “Nialae rarely use poison, our sense of smell is too strong. You need not fear a silent death such as that, Seraphine. But since you have a fondness for wandering off alone, I think it wise to arm you.”

  The day got less interesting from there, Karne insisting I hide a dagger in my dress and then devolving into briefing me on the day’s political events.

  “And what of my shard?” I asked before we left.

  “Your what?”

  “This thing in my shoulder. You promised we would find a way to remove it here. I’m still afflicted with it.”

  Karne strode to the door, taking a note from a courier. “I haven’t found a reliable source yet,” he said without looking at me. “Caelund doesn’t offer up his library willingly, I must be careful about it.”

  “You do not try,” I said.

  Karne swore as his eyes roved down the letter. “I have more pressing matters to attend to right now, Seraphine. Fenror is pressing your brat king for information on this world’s leylines, and if he gets any more keeper-damned obvious then I may have to kill him myself.”

  I rolled my eyes with impatience and stood up, today’s dress of shimmering white with scarlet scrolling designs on the bottom swirling around me. It connected at the ring at my throat, per usual, flaring out over my breasts, then tapering down to a loose, shimmering cloth that trailed just above my ankles.

  The whole outfit was tied together with delicate golden chain links around the smallest part of my waist, then another at my hips. My blond hair was braided up in an elaborate design, soft tendrils escaping around my face and nape. It couldn’t be any further from the Seraphine I knew as me. And yet, I couldn’t wait for Dal to see it.

  If Karne would ever shut up.

  “I am sorry for your troubles,” I said.

  “Come, they will gather for lunch shortly. Tanebrael has many supporters among them, and one of their number is striking out to gain the court on his own. I need to assert myself as a leader without openly betraying Tanebrael.”

  “Did we meet them last night?”

  Karne frowned at the note. “I’m not sure. The brief is… brief.”

  “Imagine that.”

  He folded the note and put it in his pocket, giving me his full attention. “No games today Seraphine. Remember, we’re in bond, you must act as such.”

  “It will be my pleasure,” I said in a flat voice.

  But the gathering was far from pleasurable as Caelund sulked that he wanted a hunting party instead.

  “My advisors don’t treat me like a king,” he said with a rebellious curl of his lip.

  It wasn’t hard to believe, as the rest of us barely tolerated him as well.

  ∞∞∞∞

  When at long last the useless lunch ended, a stuffy man stood in a huff, declaring Karne unfit to be among them with his traitorous intent as he left the room. Caelund only glanced up from fidgeting with his fork, eyes wide as if his parents were in a squabble. The rest of us murmured appropriately polite goodbyes, then took our leave.

  I gained little from the whole affair. I learned the name of the man who had claimed Boris as his realm, encompassing the university in his territory. I would press him for information on my shard in due time. Now in our room, I could endure Karne’s plotting no longer as I prepared to leave. “You will be back for dinner, will you not?” Karne said. “I enjoy having you at my side. You’re a delight to look upon.”

  “I’ve fallen ill with a headache,” I said.

  Karne lowered his parchment. “They will wonder. Already we are suspect.”

  “Then let them wonder. I’ve had enough games today.”

  “So sudden,” Karne said in a voice that was deceptive in its quietness.

  “This shard, it makes me uneasy. And since you have no interest in helping me find the cure for it, it seems I am to take the matter of my wellbeing into my own hands.”

  “I have stated before that I have been preoccupied. You shouldn’t wander alone, and I cannot afford for you to deviate from the plan, Seraphine.”

  “Yes, you’ve been preoccupied with the wrong things. Since my only reason for coming was to find a cure for this, then find it I shall, as per our agreement. Tell the boy king whatever you need. Tell him I’m with child if you want, I don’t care. I’ll return when I’ve tired of my search.” And then, turning my back on Karne’s scowl, I slipped through the door.

  I bit my tongue to keep laughter from bubbling out of me as I made my way down to the first floor. It was a struggle to keep myself from running. My heart was pounding as I passed humans and Nialae alike. I looked royal. But I was only Seraphine,
the country bumpkin from Lambston who thought the pleasantries of life were kneading soft bread and laying on sun-kissed riverbanks without shoes.

  Pity the Nialae man who approached me didn’t know that. I recognized him from lunch and wrapped my hand around the handle of the knife within my skirts.

  “Ah, the Lady Ryelle. How pleasant to lay eyes upon you,” he said, looping his arm in mine and strolling through the cavernous halls with me. “There is no need for hostility my dear, if I wanted you dead then you would not be walking with me.”

  I let go of my knife. “Corinth,” I breathed. “I respect your loyalty to the Queen, good sir.”

  “And yet, you are in bond with her biggest betrayer,” he said in a wondering voice, turning curious eyes to me.

  “You and Karne do not agree on the current state of affairs,” I said.

  “Sadly, no. But such is politicking among our people, for if everyone agreed, sweet Niall would be utopia.”

  “You miss your home.”

  “Indeed, we all do. But our queen is our queen, and she saw fit to bring us here. Our species is old, dear Ryelle, and it will take hundreds of years before the homesickness drives us to brash actions. And then, Tanebrael will have new challenges to contend with. Some say a new fracture will split the Nialae into two more factions, and then Tanebrael will have need of a king to lead the new half. Of course, if Karne had his way, then he would be king and you would be queen of the other faction. But listen to me prattle on. Tell me, how goes your bond to Karne?”

  My brows pinched in a frown. “Well enough,” I said, glancing at Corinth. His pale violet eyes took me in, probing into my mind. He could probably see me deciding whether to trust all the information he just gave me, and how to use it.

  “You are unsure of your place in all of this,” Corinth said at last.

  “I am unsure of many things, sir. My place in this world, my place at a table full of Nialae and one boy king, and of course, the words that escape the lips of every Nialae I speak with.”

  “Ah. So it is she who does not trust that will not falter, is that the game?”

  “There is no game. I want this wound out of my shoulder, and I want my people to remain free. The whereabouts of your queen matter little to me in light of those things.”

  Corinth chuckled. “I like you, Ryelle. If that is your real name. I like your honesty. It almost pains me to deliver crippling news through such a lovely vessel.”

  I stopped, frowning at Corinth, hand tightening around my knife. “What do you mean?”

  Corinth smiled at me. “Come now, we’re past the knife.” And then he leaned in close to me. “Tanebrael tires of Karne’s treachery.”

  And with one last meaningful look, Corinth turned and strode away from me. I watched, the implications of those five words exploding in my mind.

  Corinth called over his shoulder, down the gentle slope of the elaborately vaulted hallway. “I like you my dear, I truly do. Stay out of our way.”

  And then he was gone, the echo of his words sending a chill up my spine. I turned toward the gardens, forcing the warning out of my mind for the time and renewing my journey to meet Dal.

  Finally, I pushed through the last doors out to the elaborate greenery surrounding the Elanthian palace. An exotic cat stalked through the trees. Birds with long graceful tails called their beautiful songs. I wanted to laugh and dance in the perfumed breeze.

  When I got to the secluded grove that housed our bench, I was alone as always in this space. I sat for a time, contemplating Jacinthe’s flowers, laying where he’d cut them, petals beginning to curl with brown. This small clearing was so far removed from everything else that I wondered if Jacinthe had followed my gift to find me here.

  “You have escaped your captor,” Dal said, emerging from the bushes.

  “You came,” I said with a soft breath of surprise, standing. We looked each other over. Dal looked rugged and handsome, as always, in Kraw travel leathers. He held a small leather pouch in one hand and steadied his sword at his hip in the other. I didn’t miss the way his eyes traveled over me as I stood.

  When his gaze wandered up to mine again, he said, “I do not have to be Nialae to appreciate how lucky I am that you are mine.”

  I ran into Dal’s arms, and he wrapped them around me as I laughed. He pulled me close as we kissed like the two forbidden lovers we were. Our kiss became deep, and I wanted him here. Now. I’d never have enough of him.

  But Dal pulled away with a laugh. “You still have a Kraw’s appetite, Sera.”

  “I have told you, I just have an appetite for a Kraw.”

  Dal gave me a dazzling grin, showing off long canines. “I have missed this more than you could know,” he murmured between us, holding me close.

  “I can scarcely believe you’re really here,” I breathed. “There are no words in this world or the next, Dal.”

  “None are needed, you have already told me with your touch.” Dal kissed me again as I laughed, then went to the bench. “Come. I have something for you.”

  I sat with him, and Dal pulled out a vial of black paste and a tattoo needle. My heart quickened with excitement.

  “Your arm,” Dal said.

  I raised it without question, and Dal turned it over this way and that, his gaze brushing over the precious marks he’d put on me ages ago. “It needs tuning,” he murmured.

  I shivered with excitement.

  “Are Nialae too near for you to use your gift?” Dal asked, lifting a dark fan of lashes to me.

  I raised my left palm to try and hissed with pain as nothing happened. Dal’s eyes flew to the shard in my arm.

  “It glowed,” he said.

  “What?” I glanced down.

  “Try again.”

  I tried again, and sure enough, the black shard glowed the same vibrant purple as the leyline with my pain. It was no wonder I’d never noticed, the scant few times I’d tried to use my gift since being afflicted with the darn thing I’d been distracted.

  “What does it mean?” I breathed, looking up at Dal.

  He frowned. “I do not know. But we will find out soon.” Then Dal rooted around in that small bag some more, coming up with a small torch and flint and tinder. He sanitized the needle in flame and uncorked the vial of black paste. Dipping the needle, Dal steadied my arm. My heart pounded as he ran calloused hands over my markings. Oh, sweet stars above, how often did I wish for something as simple as his touch upon my skin? How much time was spent longing to hear the deep rumble of Dal’s voice?

  He took the needle, ran a rough finger over the lighter spots of tattoo on my arm, then pricked it into precise points. I sucked in a breath with the first prick, then delicious heat began to spread into my body, and I let off a shaking exhale. I watched him work on me. The way his eyes traveled over my skin, the brush of his hands across my wrist. So gentle, but firm. Trust in every stroke. Love in every prick. It hurt, and yet it was pleasurable, and soon I found myself squirming with desire.

  Dal raised his lashes to me without looking up from his work. “You are enjoying this.”

  “The thought does cross my mind that this would be splendid on other parts of my body,” I said.

  Dal gave a soft laugh, returning to my arm. “Perhaps, Sera, we shall see.” And then there were no more words as I enjoyed Dal’s touch. He was quick, efficient, pressing deep enough to draw blood a few times. When he did so, he swiped the red droplet away with the needle and returned it to the vial of paste.

  Soon, my tattoo was finished, bolder than before, and my arm burned pleasantly as it swelled around the pricks. Dal produced a cloth, wiped my arm clean, and applied some of Chatska’s yellow healing paste. “You do not need to leave it on for long, this time.”

  I nodded.

  Then Dal pulled his shirt open and got a small paintbrush out. Using the same black paste, he painted a symbol in the middle of the whorl over his heart. It was a complex design that matched the one on top of my wrist. When Dal finish
ed drawing the trace, he handed me the tattoo needle. I took it slowly, looking up into Dal’s eyes.

  “My gift to you, Sera.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” I said.

  “The spell will not work if I perform it on myself.” He handed me the obsidian vial.

  “My blood is in here.” I looked up at him.

  “Yes. My gift is twofold. Perhaps your gods will be watching again.”

  I bit my lip, looking at the needle tip. Kraw feelings were intense; I wasn’t sure if I could handle Dal’s. I lifted my lashes to hazel eyes that were like fresh green velveting a world long dormant from winter. Eyes that always spoke to me when words could not.

  Dal lifted a finger to a small curl that escaped next to my face. He tapped it with a smile.

  “It is only fair to you, since I have glimpses into your heart as well. You have been part of me once before; I would let no other do this. If you do not wish to share in this manner, then I have a clean vial.”

  “You are so beautiful already,” I whispered.

  “As were my feelings when I marked you,” his deep voice tumbled between us.

  I dipped the needle in the ink that was tainted with my blood and leaned close with a nervous laugh. “Let us see which gods are watching,” I whispered. Then I tapped the needle into his skin.

  “Harder, Sera.”

  I obeyed, dipping the needle into the ink, and tapped in deeper, up to the string wound around the needle. In time, my nerves melted, and I became faster, surer and more efficient in my movements.

  Dal’s breathing was steady and even through the process. I was somewhat of a perfectionist, trying to make perfect rows of dots, but it was hard with the welling of the black paste around each puncture. Half an hour elapsed when I’d finally finished filling in the mark Dal had painted on himself.

  “What does it mean?” I asked, gently wiping away the excess black pigment. I thought I did a good job.