Page 5 of Between Flames and Deceit (Dragon’s Heart Duology #1)

Chapter Four

Nienna

W hen I headed to my rooms in the early hours past midnight, exhaustion seeped into my bones. Ronan never resurfaced, and Tallon once again left me to fend for myself. When he did, noblewomen swarmed, relentless in their questions and prying glances, all questioning why I danced with both Kallias, and his son.

As if any of it was my choice.

At least I escaped more talk of those infernal goats.

With my back straight and chin high, I moved through the corridors, guards on either side. But each step pulsed through my aching heels, and my temples throbbed with a dull, unyielding rhythm. The dress strangled my ribs, squeezing what little air remained. All I wanted was my bed, to fall into it and let the world carry on without me.

The corridor stretched ahead, the light from wall-sconces catching the edges of engraved doors as I passed each one, my guards trailing close but silent. I knew where my quarters were, at least, even if exhaustion blurred the finer details.

My gaze drifted to the carvings, all grand in their own way, hinting at rooms just as large as my own. A massive boar rearing against a spear-wielding warrior caught my eye. I slowed, studying the intricate details—the warrior poised, braced, yet dwarfed by the creature’s sheer size. A beast large enough to challenge a dragon, if it could ever take to the skies. Gyrak would be thrilled at the chance to battle a boar of that magnitude.

Dragons ruled above and below, dominating earth and sea alike.

Well, most of it .

Unseen monsters lurked in the ocean depths that even dragons feared.

The treaty binding Draconia and Radaan did not come without sacrifice on our side. My father didn’t just send me; he demanded much of our dragons, asking them to cross the sea. Born to the Wild Shores, the beasts now kept to our island, closer to their ancient territory than Radaan. A massive whirlstorm—the largest in recorded history—once grounded the beasts to our lands. Having them soar for days over the open sea went against their nature, a strain they would never have endured by choice.

We approached my door, carved with the image of dragons soaring above an island fortress, Draconia’s banner snapping at the tower’s peak. My lips tugged into a faint, wistful smile. This might be the last glimpse of my homeland I’d ever have.

Two guards flanked my doorway. An uneasy chill pricked my skin. I reminded myself that men, not shadows, stood behind the armor. Yet the anonymity unsettled me—I couldn’t read their faces, learn their names, or tell them apart. Draconia felt worlds apart—there, I knew the staff and their kin, shared stories, trusted them like family. Here, I had to win them over, show them I wasn’t a stranger in their halls to be feared.

When I entered my room, Scythe shot to her feet, nearly knocking over the chair in her haste. Edith’s stern look pinned her back into place but rose with careful dignity.

After the door clicked shut, I released a groan that would have scandalized half the court.

“Are you well, Your Highness?” Edith questioned, her tone carrying a faint rebuke.

I sifted through curses in my mind, knowing she would only invent a creative way to remind me of my decorum if I voiced them. As I moved toward the dressing room, Scythe sprang into action, loosening my laces with swift, practiced hands as I walked. My lungs expanded, savoring the first real breath I’d drawn all night.

“Hot water, Scythe.” Edith’s tone brooked no delay as I sank into an overstuffed chair, my head tipping back in surrender.

Scythe darted off, still buzzing with energy. “So, how was it? Was he as handsome as you dreamed?” she called over her shoulder, her excitement bright against the solemn walls. In truth, she was more suited to court life than I was.

“He wasn’t hard on the eyes.”

I sighed, and Edith knelt before me, working at my boots’ laces. Radaan nobility insisted on heeled sandals that lifted them inches from the ground, as though height alone could command authority. King Kallias wore practical flat heeled boots like mine, which made me wonder—if Tallon ditched those ridiculous shoes, would I stand taller than him?

If I had a say, I’d do away with those heels. And the absurd puffed sleeves.

“I’ve heard all the maids swooning over him,” Scythe piped in, pouring steaming water into the bath.

Radaan might lack dragons, but their hot-water pipes were a gift I could grow to appreciate.

I laughed, feeling a bite of chill brush my toes as Edith tugged off my second boot. “Two days, and you’ve already infiltrated the servant’s ranks?”

The stockings followed, freeing my feet at last. I wiggled my toes and relished the freedom but also mourned it—knowing I would have to rise to disrobe.

“Oh, the things I know!” Scythe cackled, and I chuckled in response as Edith rolled her eyes. She rose, offering her hand. I groaned, letting her pull me to my aching feet and finish unlacing my dress.

“You’d be surprised what you can learn when you trade dragon secrets.”

“You don’t know the secrets of dragons.” I retorted as the fabric pooled along the floorboards. I kicked it aside and tugged at the waistband of my skin-tight breeches.

“But I’m the handmaiden to the Dragon’s Heart!” Scythe’s voice was muffled as I wiggled free from my trousers, hurrying toward the bathing room.

“So you’re trading my secrets!”

Scythe straightened, flipping her long brown braid over her shoulder. “As if you have any.”

“Your murder will be my first!” I grinned as I headed for the steaming tub.

“Ladies!”

We spun to face Edith as she heaved a tired sigh, her gaze sharp and tired. She’d been awake before me and wouldn’t rest until later—unless I dismissed her. I cocked an eyebrow in challenge.

“Before you send me off, let me plait your hair,” she muttered.

I twisted, giving Scythe a sly wink, and she giggled, then busied herself pouring lavender oil and mint leaves into my bath. We’d talk after the old maid retired.

I stepped in with a moan of relief. The heat sank deep into each muscle—hotter than anything Draconia’s waters offered. With my head rested against the tub’s lip, I submerged my body, warmth enveloping me.

Edith handed Scythe my robe, then got to work weaving my hair.

“I’ll be looking forward to a late morning,” I breathed, eyes drifting shut. Would it be wrong of me to sleep here rather than my bed?

“Will the prince be fetching you?” Scythe asked, pulling my foot from the water, massaging oils into my tender heel.

“He better,” I groaned, savoring the pressure. “He abandoned me on the floor tonight.”

“No!”

“Twice. ”

She slapped an oiled hand over her chest, eyes wide in disbelief. Her gasp held all the horror I once felt. By now, it long since melted into irritation and annoyance.

“I had to dance with King Kallias.”

“On the night of your betrothal?!”

A sharp tug on my hair indicated Edith was done with my complaints. Scythe would spread the news among the servants, but they already knew. The nobles who witnessed the ordeal, however, would be the real problem.

“See to her feet! If she has blisters, I’ll hold you responsible!” Edith’s reprimand was sharp, unforgiving.

I bit back a laugh at Scythe’s murderous glare. She yanked my other foot, hauling me across the slippery basin. My head plunged beneath the surface, and I flailed, water rushing up my nose. Coughing and sputtering, I gripped the tub’s edge and shot upward, splashing bathwater everywhere.

“You’re going to drown her!” Edith snapped, yanking my hair back with force.

I choked and pulled my feet out of Scythe’s reach, tucking them under me. She snickered, then began mopping up the puddles along the floorboards.

When the bath was over, my hair plaited and wrapped in silk, I dismissed Edith. She would tend to me in the morning. Scythe would see me to bed, staying in my room as usual. I yawned, watching the older woman slip through a small door hidden behind the tapestry in my receiving room.

Scythe squealed, her grip tightening around my hand as she yanked me through the rooms toward my sleeping chamber.

“I have to show you!”

“Tonight?” I moaned, dragging my feet. She was the sister I never had—in every way that mattered.

“You’ll want to see it, I promise!”

She tugged me over to a giant chest wedged against the wall. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting pale shadows on the light wood. Vines snaked across its surface and delicate glass flowers shimmered on top.

“Help me move it!” she hissed, releasing my hand to brace herself on the opposite end.

“Are we rearranging furniture? At this hour?” I groaned, but still gripped the side, readying myself.

“It will be worth it!”

She grunted, shoving her slight weight at the wood. With a few muttered curses, we managed to move it. She let out a delighted squeal and crouched, peering behind it. I leaned over her, squinting at the wall.

Or rather, the small door embedded there .

“Old servant passages?” I raised an eyebrow as she dusted the frame. I couldn’t imagine a maid crawling through such a tiny opening to sneak between rooms.

“Not at all! These don’t connect to the servants’ quarters.” She tugged at the latch, but the aged wood resisted her pull. “Get a light!”

Sore feet be cursed. I wouldn’t miss an exploration for anything.

“Well, where does it lead?” I asked, retrieving the candle from my nightstand’s lantern.

“It’s from the war. All the royal quarters have one.” She peeked at me, eyes glittering with mischief. “ All of them. And they all connect.”

“So they can sneak from room to room?” I scoffed.

She pulled the swollen wood free of the frame and snatched the candle. “No, silly. For when assassins are afoot.”

As she stuck the small flickering light into the space ahead, a spider web caught flame and flared up in a sudden burst. I gasped, scrambling back as Scythe swatted at the flash with her bare hand.

“Careful!” I hissed, shoving her shoulder as I crouched beside her.

The hall was cramped. Wide enough for a few people to crawl through, but barely taller than my waist. I would have to wriggle through the darkness, brushing past spiders, mice, and who knew what else.

And it was dark.

“I’m so excited!” Without waiting, Scythe plunged through the cobwebs as she scuttled along, oblivious to the mess she left behind.

I dropped to my hands and knees, following her with a reluctant grin. After the night I’d had, this strange detour felt like a welcome change. The passage was neglected, cobwebs hanging thick in every corner.

“It’s an escape route,” she whispered, her eyes flickering around the suffocating dark. “All the rooms connect so the king can summon his family.”

My lips formed a line, my gaze lost to the darkness. The temptation to stumble upon Tallon’s room was too great. What secrets lay behind his door? Then again, he grew up in this palace. He must’ve explored these passages countless times. If I were caught, the consequences wouldn’t be just an embarrassment or an impropriety. It would be a shame I couldn’t escape, a mark that would linger long after the moment passed.

I dared not speak louder than a whisper. “How did you find out about them?”

“Berth—a stuffy old servant,” she whispered. “He was snooping around, asking about your mother.”

“The queen?” I ducked under a thick strand of webbing, flinching as something skittered to my side. I squinted into the shadows. Whatever it was, it was too small to worry about .

“Aye, ‘Queen of Dragons,’ he called her. In exchange for a few juicy tidbits about her, he shared these old passages with me.”

“Not just my secrets, but my mother’s as well.” I sighed, dust and grime clinging to my hands as I crawled. I couldn’t fathom how I’d explain the state of my robe to Edith in the morning.

“Have faith,” she reassured me. “I told him nonsense—something about you being born in the Nest.”

“Common knowledge,” I muttered.

She paused, and I leaned over to see what had halted her. A massive rat skeleton glinted in the flickering candlelight. “You’ve seen dragons swallow cows, and you’re scared of a dead rat?” I chuckled, then took the candle. I moved past, shuffling down the dusty passage with a grin.

“Common in Draconia, but here it’s a bit more… shocking!” she mused, the rustle of fabric assuring me she followed.

The path stretched on, swallowed by the endless darkness. We passed several side passages but kept our course straight, the most reliable route for retracing our steps. The air grew heavier, colder. Conversation dwindled, our words drowned by the creeping silence. Then, faint voices filtered through the stillness. We froze, exchanging tense glances in the dim light.

“Chicken.” Her brown eyes twinkled in the candlelight, a daring smile lifting one side of her mouth.

I glared, thrusting the candle at her before inching forward. We could still turn back, slip away unnoticed, as long as whoever spoke wasn’t in the tunnel.

The voices swelled, growing louder as we snuck along, each hand and knee placed with deliberate caution. We dodged rat droppings, stepped over decaying mice, and skirted low-hanging webs, the air thick with dust. My throat itched, but I fought the urge to clear it.

We stopped at a door embedded in the wall. Like the others, it was latched from the inside and coated in grime. No light bled through the cracks, a sign it had been kept hidden just as mine was.

A sudden crash jolted me, and I snapped a quick look at Scythe. Her lips tightened, but her eyes gleamed with excitement. She crept closer to the door, pressing her ear to the filthy surface.

I followed, our faces so close that our breaths mingled in the stale air.

“—knew I wouldn’t be here,” a muffled voice said, distorted by layers of wood, but youthful in its outrage.

“No, I demanded you be here.” The depth of that baritone sent the fine hairs at the nape of my neck on end. It was too distant, too unclear to identify, yet I felt it in my bones.

‘The king!’ I mouthed, eyes widening in shock. Panic surged, urging me to flee, to dart down the passage .

Scythe dropped her jaw, blinked, then snapped it shut with a sly grin.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t obey your whims.” The younger voice bit back. Tallon—it had to be.

“You’ve had your youth,” Kallias’ tone resembled that of a growling beast rather than a regal king. “You’ve had your fun. Now you will step up—inherit Radaan. It’s time you learned your duty.”

“Radaan is mine–”

“ Will be . Not yet, Tallon.” The king’s words sliced through his son’s defiance.

My teeth sank into my lip, desperate to stay quiet.

“I don’t need a queen to rise to the throne,” the prince said. His tone dripped with taunting malice, as if goading his father.

“Radaan needs her. Not you,” Kallias shouted. “Another repeat of tonight’s events and you’ll send her packing—if she isn’t gone already.”

“She was fine.”

A crash. A grunt. “Treat her that way again, and I’ll banish you to the valley beneath.”

“Just as you threatened Mother so many times.” Bitterness strangled Tallon’s scoff.

My pulse quickened. This conversation was not meant for my ears—but I couldn’t stop myself. Even Scythe’s expression shifted, her excitement replaced by a flicker of genuine fear.

“This isn’t about you—or her,” Kallias snarled. “It’s about your kingdom, boy. Act like an heir, or I’ll treat you as the bastard you are.”

I recoiled, the words stinging. Terror poured through me, freezing my veins. Scythe’s face mirrored my shock as we both backed away, barely able to move without making a sound. On shaking limbs, we fled down the passage, praying they hadn’t heard our frantic scramble.

My heart pounded, refusing to calm even as we crawled onto my plush carpet and shut the door. Neither of us spoke as we shoved the chest back in place, then slumped to the floor in exhaustion.

Scythe grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight, forcing me to meet her eye. “It’s just a phrase,” she said. “Simple name-calling.”

Bastard.

Coming from King Kallias, I wasn’t sure how much truth lay in her statement. Or his.