Page 7 of Curse of the Midnight Dragon (The Moonlight Dragon #2)

Celestina

Patty nudged my shoulder and giggled. We were dressed in the army’s standard black tunic and matching black leggings (thankfully dry) and both standing side-by-side chopping vegetables in the ship’s long, narrow galley. It was hard to believe that barely a month ago, I had no clue how to dice an onion or chop a potato or julienne a carrot. Now, my paring knife moved with an almost musical rhythm in time with Patty’s as we worked our way through the small pile of vegetables that we planned to use as the base for a savory fish stew. I liked the work. It calmed my mind.

“Did you see how Gray picked me up off the deck after the dragons left?” Patty giggled again. “He’s changing. He doesn’t think of me as a little kid anymore.”

“Do you think so?” I didn’t see it. Gray treated Patty like a younger sister.

“Oh, yes. Gray finally experienced a little of the crushing worry I feel for him every time he goes into battle. Those dragons could have easily destroyed me, and it woke him up. He knows he loves me now. He must! Did you know he told me that I should never have come on to the deck with the dragons flying above us? He’s so dreamy when he gets bossy like that!” Patty had a habit of speaking in exclamations. It was equal parts endearing and painful to my ears.

“I’ve never seen any of them frightened like that.” Especially Soren.

“Like I said, dragons and vampires…” Patty shivered. “Dragons want to kill all the vampires!”

“But you’re human,” I gently reminded her.

“When a dragon breaths fire, a human living in a vampire-run country and traveling on a vampire-owned ship is the same as being a full-blooded vampire!”

“You do have a point there.” I dumped the peppers I’d finished chopping into a large pot and started on the carrots. I’d just gotten halfway through the first carrot when a tingling on the skin of my neck had me turning my head.

Driscoll had entered the galley. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching us. His too-aware eyes reminded me of Krisp, the royal guard who used to watch me and, whenever he had found me alone, had tried to put his hands on me. I hated the feeling of helplessness that man had instilled in me. I was determined not to let another man make me feel that way ever again.

I glanced down and found that I’d completely decimated the carrot I’d been chopping. I drew a long breath and set the knife down. “What do you want?”

“We travel with extra sails,” he said. “The men are hoisting them now. Despite the dragons’ efforts to harm us, we won’t lose much time in getting to Tiburnia.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” I asked.

“What are you doing here!” Patty added. “Standing there without saying a word is creepy! You’re weirding us out!” She shook her knife at him in the same way her grandmother would shake her oversized spoon to threaten people who made her unhappy. “Look around you! You’re the only one not working! We’re busy here! We have a ship to feed!”

“Wow,” I said. “You sounded just like your grandmother.”

Patty swung toward me. I had to duck to keep from being stabbed by the knife she still clutched. “Thanks!” She giggled. “She’s the best, isn’t she?”

“She is,” I agreed. I missed Mary. And I realized Mary, cranky as she could be, wouldn’t tolerate our idleness. I was about to return to chopping carrots when I noticed that Driscoll hadn’t moved. “Obviously, this guy has never met Mary, or else he’d be running.”

“Look. We don’t trust each other,” Driscoll’s low voice rumbled. “But Soren’s life is now tied to yours, and that’s a problem.”

“Only if my life is ever in danger.”

He rolled his eyes in a way that seemed to suggest he thought I was stupid. “I’ve overheard you asking Soren about what you need to know when you get to Tiburnia. And I’ve overheard him not giving you an answer.”

“You’ve been spying on us?” I fought an urge to shake my paring knife at him. I doubted a paring knife would be considered much of a threat to a nearly indestructible vampire. But the collar might think otherwise and punish me for my aggression.

“This is a spy ship,” Driscoll said without any remorse. “What did you expect?”

“I expect you to treat the prince and princess of your country with respect and not listen in on private conversations.” What was hard about that?

“Here’s the thing, princess .” He said “princess” with a sneer. “Prince Cullen seems to care about what happens to you. So much so, he asked me to keep an eye out for your safety. And I’ve been hearing things, things that will threaten that safety.”

“We’ve been on a ship for over a week and a half. Where have you been hearing things?” I demanded.

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t give me an answer. “You need to watch yourself when you visit your parents. There’s a reason Tiburnia risked an entire army to attack Earst. And it wasn’t simply because your parents wanted to get you away from the capricious Queen Beatrice. It was because the Tiburnians wanted to get their hands on you. They desperately want to use you.”

“Use me?”

“As a weapon.”

“I’m not a weapon.”

“Ah, princess, but you are. I’m told you’re well-versed in the continent’s ancient lore. Think about it. What did those tales say about the dragons and their role in the War of the Magics? Which dragons posed the greatest threats?” Without waiting for me to respond or even react, he stepped out the door like an eel slipping free of its net.

Often when I talked about, and sometimes when I even thought about the dragons, the collar would punish me. But if Driscoll were telling the truth—something I wasn’t convinced of—it was worth risking the collar’s pain to try and figure out the puzzle he’d given me.

I’m not a weapon .

Sure, I could compel other magical creatures…vampires included. But I’d never use that magic to harm—

Oh, but that power could be used as a weapon.

I unlocked the door to the cabin I shared with Soren and let myself in. Soren was still on the deck talking with Gray, Raya, Patty, and the crewmen. While he hated court life, he loved spending time with others in the military service. Very unprincely to associate so freely with the hoi polloi. And yet, this everyman manner he’d developed was probably the main reason he was so popular among his people. It was one of the reasons I loved him. He accepted me as I was. He didn’t care that I’d come to him as a slave, gifted like a trinket from Queen Beatrice’s vast storerooms of junk she liked to offer visiting dignitaries.

No, even from the beginning, he’d treated me like I mattered. Me . Not as if I were a prize he’d won. Or a plaything for his bedroll. I was a person, just like any of the others under his command. And he treated me in the same friendly, accepting manner as he treated his warriors and friends.

Coming from Earst society, where lines of hierarchy might have well been etched in stone, and friends had to come from the same level as yourself, the thought of a general—much less a prince—acting in such a pleasant way had been confusing at first. I’d kept waiting for him to explode whenever one of his friends disagreed with him.

He never had.

That was why when I’d discovered Soren had lied to me and that lie had almost gotten me killed, it had cut me like a knife to my soul.

And now, according to Driscoll, Soren was hiding from me what we were going to face in Tiburnia. I mean, he didn’t have to tell me that he was worried about going into enemy territory. I knew that by the way he insisted I train for so many hours a day in ways to defend myself and ways to elude and escape capture.

But if it was my magical abilities—and Tiburnia’s lust to use it—that had him so worried, why wouldn’t he tell me? In the past, we’d talked about my magical abilities without causing the collar to punish me.

But, if not for my power of compulsion, how else did the Tiburnians believe I could be used as a weapon? The power to compel others was my only magic. Not that I’d use that power to harm someone.

Of course, the Tiburnians didn’t know me. Heck, my parents didn’t know me very well. This had to be the troubles that Driscoll had wanted to warn me about. But if that were the case, why was Soren refusing to talk to me about it?

Was it because I’m a drago—?

The collar struck like a punch to my chest. Gasping, I dropped to my knees.

Driscoll had told me to remember the old tales. The old tales. Those tales have nothing to do with me. Those were safe. I pressed my head to the wooden floor planks and breathed deeply. I remembered a story about how the moonlight dragon had been stolen. The other dragons had left their cave to go hunting, leaving a hellhound to watch over their precious baby dragon. When they’d returned, they had found the dog had turned wild, vicious. And the baby dragon was gone. But how does that story help me ?

The pain had started to recede. My head started to clear.

No, not that story . Although, it was my favorite. So heartbreaking. So filled with hope for a lonely girl. I used to pretend that the dragons who liked to sun themselves in the valley were there because they were missing me. Never did I believe that it could be—

No, don’t let your thoughts go that way . I didn’t want to give the collar another reason to hurt me. My body was already going to ache for at least a day from that last hit.

Focus on the stories, the ancient ones that date back to the War of the Magics .

With my forehead still pressed to the floorboards, I tried to remember the tales of the War of the Magics. Not all dragons were equal in their ability to fight. The race of midnight dragons was like Soren’s warriors—fierce and deadly. The moonlight dragons were just as deadly. But, according to the stories, they weren’t warriors. They were protectors.

And according to the storytellers, the moonlight dragons were the only dragons that could defeat the vampires back during the War of the Magics. That had remained true until the vampires discovered an enchanted object that helped them defeat the moonlight dragons. This mysterious object allowed the vampires to take over the lands the dragons had called home, the lands of the lost fifth kingdom.

According to some of the myths, the last moonlight dragon, with her magic of the air and night, would return from the Great Beyond. When that happened, this powerful dragon would rebuild her fifth kingdom and destroy the race of vampires.

If the vampires believed that, then they had every right to fear the dragons, especially the moonlight dragon.

An unbeatable moonlight dragon.

Driscoll’s warning must be related to that .

Honestly, I’d never paid that much attention to the stories recounting the War of the Magics. I much preferred listening to the beautiful tales of the dragons, especially the ones that told of a moonlight dragon that glowed in the night as it flew large loops in the dark sky. She was a peaceful creature. Unless threatened, she tended to keep to herself.

The Tiburnians, after hearing these stories about how the moonlight dragon could destroy the vampires, could logically be interested in gaining control over such a creature…if my parents had told them about me. Not that I’m thinking about that. Nope. I’m not. I’m not risking another punishment.

I lifted my head—and holding my breath—waited for the collar to react. After several stuttering heartbeats where nothing bad happened, I released my breath. My gaze landed on the locked top drawer on the small desk in the cabin. Soren had put his father’s letter in that drawer.

I wondered if he’d read it yet. I wondered if it contained a clue as to why Soren and Driscoll were so worried about my safety.

I rubbed my aching chest as I pushed up to my feet. After pressing my ear to the door to listen for footsteps in the hallway to make sure Soren wasn’t returning, I hurried over to the locked drawer. Like teaching me how to untie knots, Soren had also trained me to pick locks. As soon as I mastered the skill, the two of us had then sewn lock picks into the hems of every tunic I owned.

He’d done it because he thought I was going to run into danger in Tiburnia, and it was going to be a problem…for me, for Soren, for everyone.

I pulled two metal rods free from my tunic’s fabric, stuck them into the lock.

And froze.

I couldn’t seem to get my hands to cooperate and unlock the drawer.

It wasn’t the collar that was compelling me to stop doing what I was about to do. I would have felt searing pain down my back if it had been. It wasn’t even Soren’s own magic—his ability to compel others to do his will—stopping me.

It was me.

I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to breach Soren’s trust. And dammit, I didn’t want to risk losing my trust in him . What if I learned something about Soren that I didn’t want to know?

He’d lied to me once. More than once. What if…?

No. Not opening that drawer was a coward’s way out. That letter might hold vital information, information I needed to know. And if that were the case, I shouldn’t rest until I had read what his father had written.

The letter might hold personal information about Soren’s relationship with his father. What if the king had disowned his sons? What if he was sending troops after us? Those were things Soren might be reluctant to tell me. I couldn’t support him with matters I knew nothing about.

Drawing in a long, slow breath, I finally managed to convince my hand to use the lock picks. With a few careful maneuvers, the drawer’s simple lock clicked open. As expected, I found the letter in the drawer on top of several other official-looking papers.

I’m not here to snoop , I reminded myself as I picked up and unfolded the letter.

Unlike Cullen’s three pages filled with cramped writing, the king’s missive contained only one sentence:

As you predicted, Queen Beatrice is leading her army to our border in preparation for an invasion .

No animosity.

No demands that his sons return home. No mention of the near coup that had occurred when we escaped, with Soren directing Fein’s army to raise their weapons against the King’s Guard. No warnings about what the Tiburnians might do if we were discovered sneaking into their kingdom.

Just a statement about what Soren had predicted?

The backs of my legs hit the bunk, and, still holding the letter tight between my fingers, I sank to sit on the edge. I couldn’t seem to pry my eyes off that one sentence.

No, not the complete sentence. I just stared at the first part: As you predicted …

The door to our cabin opened. I didn’t need to lift my gaze away from the letter to know who was entering. I could tell by the cadence of his footfalls and by his delicious scent of pine and snow and caramel. The essence of him wrapped around me like one of his warm embraces. I wanted to lean into it. I wanted to let being near him be enough for me.

Don’t ask questions. Don’t make waves. That was how I’d survived as long as I had in Queen Beatrice’s court. It went against every piece of me to speak up.

But I had to.

“It was all a ruse,” I stated. There was no need to parse it as a question, no need to give him the opportunity to lie. As you’d predicted… The letter in my hand, although only one short sentence, had said enough. “Us fleeing the palace on this ship. Your father knew of and approved of your plans to leave Fein.” I finally looked up at him. “Perhaps it was even his idea?”

Soren looked at me and then at the letter I still held in my hands. He sighed. “It was my idea.”

“And the battle that raged as we ran to Cullen’s ship? That was what? A show for—?”

“For you,” he finished for me.

My heart sank at his words. “It wasn’t a show for Queen Beatrice?” If it had been for Queen Beatrice, I could understand it. We didn’t know how much Queen Beatrice could glean about the Fein through the collar. Could she see through my eyes or hear through my ears?

“It was a show for you. Why would I even think about Queen Beatrice?”

The letter in my hand trembled. “But you’d been talking to your father about this, about what your absence might mean. You clearly knew—”

“Celestina.” A muscle in his jaw tightened. He’d spoken my name softly, and yet it still sounded like a warning, like I was treading into territory he didn’t want me to enter.

He’d never put barriers up between us like this before. At least, none that I’d noticed.

“You made it look like we were instigating a coup,” I said, still not willing to believe that the show hadn’t been for Queen Beatrice. “You did it to show that Fein’s power structure was crumbling. That—”

“No, that’s not what happened.” He heaved another sigh. “Look. I had to do something dramatic because I didn’t think you would have gone through with our plan to leave the kingdom. You would have sacrificed your opportunity to question your parents if you’d thought my leaving Fein would endanger the line of succession. That’s why I had my father’s men chase us out.”

“But this trip endangers you and everything!” I tossed the letter at him. “You should be back in Fein. You should be protecting what is yours instead of risking our lives by traveling into an enemy country. Especially if Queen Beatrice is looking to invade.”

He scoffed. “My army is well trained. My officers are more than capable of thinking for themselves. They don’t need me standing with them to tell them how to defend our lands against a weak country grasping for power.”

“Is Queen Beatrice invading because you didn’t fulfill your promise to kill me? Is this her retribution?”

“No.” He seemed surprised by my jump in logic. “No,” he repeated. “Remember how my father scolded me when I returned to the palace because I’d left Earst before completing the real reason my father had sent me and his army to Queen Beatrice?”

I nodded. “Your father wanted to keep Tiburnia from making a land grab and also from becoming a threat to the remaining two kingdoms. That’s why he sent you and his army to assist the Kingdom of Earst. Weren’t you at least honest with me about that part of the plan?”

“I haven’t lied about—” He fisted his hands and closed his eyes as he drew in another long breath. “It was true, Celestina. I swear it. Plus, you were there. You saw that I accomplished that part of the plan. I’m my father’s sword. And a damned good one. But I was also in Earst on a diplomatic mission. While the Kingdom of Tiburnia was anxious to push out their borders, Queen Beatrice has also been showing signs of wanting to do the same. For three years, Cullen’s spy network has been reporting on her preparations for an assault on one of the other three kingdoms. But we didn’t know which kingdom she was targeting. I was sent to charm her into telling us her plans. And to convince her to keep her damned self away from the Fein borderlands. But I couldn’t bring myself to be charming around her, not when I was feeling furious over how she had treated you. You’d saved her fucking sons’ lives and the thanks she gave was making you a slave?”

“But my parents—”

“I don’t care that your parents had tried to help the Tiburnian forces. She punished you. You! Even after you put your own safety on the line to protect the royal lineage. Even after you proved to her that you stand with her. Even now, you’re opening your mouth to defend Queen Beatrice, aren’t you?”

I closed my mouth and pinched my lips together because he was right. Defending the queen had been so ingrained in my upbringing that it came as naturally to me as walking or breathing. It felt wrong to even listen to Soren criticize my queen.

She’s not your queen anymore. You belong to Soren now. You belong to the Fein .

It wasn’t that long ago when the thought of belonging to a vampire would have sent me screaming through the corridors in horror. But now, thinking about how I belonged to Soren (thanks to the collar) and how he belonged to me (thanks to his bonding his life with mine in a very public ceremony) made me feel happy. Protected. I’d found a family with Soren and his friends. I felt safe with them—a feeling I never experienced in Queen Beatrice’s court.

“So, yeah, I failed in that mission, Celestina, because when I went to that damned ball of hers, all I could think of was how she’d ordered you to be tortured and then put to death and how angry I felt about that on your behalf.” His green eyes sparked with anger from just talking about it. “When she rubbed up against me and acted like I should be pleased by what she’d done to you, I had two choices. I could speak my mind and start a war with Earst or I could leave the ball. As you see, neither of those options would accomplish my father’s mission.”

I looked down at the letter I still held and reread the warning of an impending war. If only I’d gone looking for the princes earlier. If only I’d stopped them from putting themselves in danger in that bailey yard in the first place, none of this would have happened. Soren would have been able to charm Queen Beatrice and work out a peace agreement. And he’d be home with his family now. He’d be helping run his country.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“That. That right there is why I felt like I needed to lie to you. I know you, Celestina.” He knelt in front of me and took my hands in his. “I know how you’ve been taught to put yourself last. It’s so ingrained, I doubt you even realize you’re doing it. Finding your parents—if they are indeed your parents—finding who you are and what you are is important. You’re important, more important than you can ever realize.”

I don’t know why those words hurt me, but they felt like tiny daggers in my chest.

You’re important .

Tears prickled the backs of my eyes. I desperately tried to shake them away.

You’re more important than you can ever realize .

Soren tightened his hold on my hands as if I’d been trying to pull them away. Had I been trying to pull away from him?

“I love you, Celestina. I love all the parts of you, even the sneaky parts that make you pick locks and snoop through my papers.” Those words hurt, too. But not nearly as much as the others.

“It’s your fault, you know. You taught me how to pick that lock,” I reminded him.

He smiled and shook his head ruefully. “So I did.”