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The words hit Fyia like a hammer. They were no surprise, but this was no cocky noble trying his luck, and now she had something to lose. The Emperor wasn't lying when he said his forces were superior, given his fleet of airships. Fyia's troops were seasoned warriors, but they'd never fought a foe in the air.

Fyia plastered an unconcerned smile on her face. 'Is that all?' she said. She met the eyes of each of her party in turn, starting with Venir, and ending with Cal. Cal, who made her heart race, who she knew now with absolute certainty she wanted to marry, not this patronizing ball of repulsion.

'Yes,' she said, nodding slowly, still looking at Cal. Every bone in her body itched to go to him … to get away from the Emperor.

'Yes?' said the Emperor. Her seemingly straightforward answer was so shocking, no one paid any attention to Cal as he rose from his seat. 'But you turned me down before …'

Fyia's eyes moved to the Emperor's children, to the heirs who apparently did not make him proud. If she were to marry the Emperor, any child she had would be immediately in their sights. Fyia had never pictured herself with children, nor as a brood mare.

Her focus snapped back to the man across the table.

'No,' she replied. He thought he'd won, but she would never marry him, not for anything, including something as precious as the dragons.

'You said …' the Emperor started, but Fyia cut him off.

'I cannot marry you.'

'Oh?' said the Emperor. He was confused, but still of the opinion the encounter would eventually go his way. He looked to Lord Venir, which, although not overly surprising, was more blatant than she'd expected; more evidence of the Emperor's confidence.

Venir's expression turned sour. Apparently he recognized the shark-infested waters, but then, his family had always had a knack for survival.

'You see,' said Fyia, 'I find the many rolls of fat around your midriff quite unattractive.' The Emperor's mouth pursed, as though he'd swallowed a wasp, and one of his entourage gasped. 'But that is not even the tip of all the reasons I will never marry you. You are arrogant, deceitful, harbor many fugitive nobles from my lands—most notably my traitor parents—and you seem to believe that you canforceme to comply with your every whim and wish. That is not a trait I desire in a husband.'

The Emperor laughed, still so sure of success, even in the face of Fyia's fervent refusal. 'My my … we shall have some fun, you and I, for I like it when my women put up a fight.'

The Emperor's daughter closed her eyes a beat too long, and Fyia wondered if it was just because of her father's sexual innuendo, or for some darker reason.

'You're forgetting you have no choice,' he said. 'You may think whatever you wish—that is one thing I cannot control—but without me, there will be no dragons for you or anyone else. And we all know how much you want the dragons to prove your worth.'

Fyia laughed. 'You're so confident. Yet have you not noticed everyone on my side is unconcerned?' Except Venir …

The Emperor's eyes flicked across her people, still seeming not to notice Cal's empty chair.

Cal conversed with a member of the Emperor's entourage, standing almost directly behind the Emperor's seat. He'd chosen a lowly member, presumably so no one would pay much attention.

'Tell me then,' said the Emperor, now rankled, 'what trump card you mistakenly believe you hold.'

'I cannot marry you, because I am already betrothed,' said Fyia.

The Emperor cast an uncertain glance at Venir, but Venir's astounded features had turned to Fyia.

Fyia chuckled. 'You should choose your spies more wisely; Venir knows nothing of import.'

Venir's mouth opened and closed like a fish.

'Who?' said the Emperor, with war in his eyes.

'Me,' said Cal. He'd moved close to the Emperor while all had been focused on the storm Fyia was creating.

The Emperor whirled to face Cal's voice, his guards leaping to the Emperor's defense as they finally realized the threat. But they were too late, because before they could reach him, Cal ran a knife across the Emperor's throat. 'Atlas Calemir Talos,' he said, 'King of the Black Hoods.'

The place turned frenetic, but Cal cared only about getting to Fyia, who—Cal was pleased to see—was already in the middle of a formidable circle of protectors.

'Adigos, Sensis, protect the Princess,' said Fyia, as Cal replaced them.

Cal turned in time to see Princess Re'lah pull a knife from the Crown Prince's back. Already, the Emperor's guards had turned on her, closing in.

Fyia pulled out her own blade. She hid it in the folds of her cloak as she moved towards where Venir and the Spider sheltered behind a pillar. The others followed, casting about for threats.