Page 18 of Lady Dragon

Kirek’s pride wouldn’t survive that —her mother’s downfall. Her own disgrace.

She herself wouldn’t survive for long, either, because soon she would be dead, killed by one of her own kind for being a failed contender for the draconic queenship. The strong weeding out the weak.

“Pavak,” Kirek growled, salivating at her aunt’s name.

She seeks to overthrow me, and position her own daughter as the favored contender for the queenship.

Valraka. Kirek didn’t dislike her cousin; rather, she respected her, for the most part.

Her aunt, on the other claw… Pavak was a fanatic, always carrying on about the old days, back when they were the dominant species, and idolizing old dragons, like Nakor and especially Raka, who’d ruled during the war with humans.

Who’d died then: Nakor, to kill the human king, and Raka when their pair-bond had broken.

Death was preferable to any treaty, in Pavak’s eyes—to breaking the bond between dragons in order to allow a different one with humans.

Kirek thought her overly cold, calculating, and brutal, whenever she wasn’t burning with a crazed sort of zealous fire that made her decisions passionately erratic.

By herself, her aunt could be ignored. The problem was, she’d gained more and more followers over time, trying to make the Queen Mother—and perhaps the queen’s intended heir—look soft in comparison.

A dragon could never look soft. And Valraka could never appear the stronger between herself and Kirek.

“Then you intend to invade?” Kirek asked bluntly. “Branon’s uprising would give us the excuse we need to launch our own assault, under the guise of upholding the terms of the Treaty.”

But neither do we want to save the human queen too soon and end up back to where we started, nor to reveal that the only cause in this fight that we support is our own, and encourage the humans to unite against us.

“So we let the humans exhaust themselves first, at war with each other.”

For a time. We don’t want a man to thoroughly install himself on the throne, either, harkening back to the kings of old to become a symbol for humans to rally around.

“So, before any pretender such as Branon can get too far, you’ll then claim the Treaty has been violated, since under its terms only queens are allowed to rule. And then you’ll attack him in retribution—leaving neither side the winner, and no one left who is strong enough to resist us.”

Indeed. We don’t want anyone who is a worthy contender on the throne, after this.

Her mother wanted a hunting ground. Nothing to stop them from taking whatever they willed from the fertile lands of Andrath.

It would make her the most fearsome dragon queen in centuries. As far from weak as she could get.

You must let these events play out , she continued. But, first, my daughter…

Kirek was almost afraid to ask. “Yes?”

You need to meet with Branon in secret. Tell him that when he makes his move for the throne, the dragons will stand down. And tell him that if he reveals this information to anyone, our deal will be off.

There truly was no deal. He just wouldn’t find out until it was too late to fight back.

“Why would he trust me?” Kirek asked, but she had a horrible, gnawing suspicion that she might already know the answer.

Now that you’ve foiled my attempt to dispose of the daughter heir, not to mention what may have been Branon’s on several occasions, you’ve given yourself the task. Promise him you will do this, and he will trust you. There was a pause. And then you will , of course, do it. Kill the princess.

“What?” Kirek couldn’t help gasping. No, no, no. She was glad her mother couldn’t hear that last, silent attempt at refusal, at least. Questioning her was bad enough.

Do not speak soft words to me. Prove yourself, my daughter. Redeem yourself in my eyes, and in the piercing gaze of those who doubt my confidence in you. Who doubt me .

“But how can I do it in a way that won’t point directly at us?” Kirek strained to keep the desperation out of her voice. To cast the shadow of her worry over dragonkind , not the princess .

Precisely because you’ve saved her so many times. No one would suspect you now, not even if you did it in your own quarters. As to the particulars, I’ll leave that up to you. But, Kirek?

Kirek’s tongue felt made of stone. “Yes?”

Do not disappoint me.

Kirek slipped inside Branon’s quarters just as she had the princess’s—through the window, avoiding all patrolling guards.

It was even easier for her, this time, because his rooms weren’t as high up in the keep, or as well protected.

It became clear that no assassination plot had been linked to him yet, as he wasn’t under heavy watch.

The walls and furniture were sparse and utilitarian, nothing to catch her unawares.

Except for him.

He was more than capable of protecting himself, she found, when she began to slide herself over the sill, and he, standing silently alongside with his back pressed to the wall, seized her by the collar, dragged her inside, and slammed her shoulders down onto a desk while holding a dagger against her neck.

For a moment, they both stared at one another in silence, breathing, taking each other’s measure.

His red hair was beginning to thin, but his dark eyes were sharp and his body hard.

He wasn’t holding back now, as he had in the tourney, and his blade was as sharp as it had been then.

An inkpot rolled off the edge of the desk and shattered on marble, no doubt staining the blue stone black.

Kirek grinned without taking her eyes from his. “I appear to have made a mess.”

The knife pressed closer to her throat. Oh , she hoped he would try to kill her. Then she could kill him .

“A dragon attacked the princess,” Branon murmured. “But you defended her, and now you’re here, ostensibly to kill me, and yet…” He abruptly straightened and withdrew the dagger.

Skies curse him. The man might be smart.

“And yet?” Kirek asked coldly, straightening herself and tugging her leathers back into place. She didn’t offer him anything, refusing to hand him everything on a platter. If he was truly smart, he could figure it out himself.

“And yet you never betrayed that my blade was sharp for our match, and a dragon tried to kill the princess, whatever your response. So I’m left with questions.” He re-sheathed his dagger, but he didn’t turn his back on her.

“You think I had something to do with the ambush?” Kirek’s tone was dangerous. Any suggestion she might have wanted to harm the princess still made her blood boil—despite any intentions she had now.

“Or someone you know, perhaps, and you were covering their tracks. Someone who might not mind the princess’s death. Who might not mind me on the throne. But it couldn’t appear so obvious.”

Interesting. He thought her so devious as to be in on a plan that required killing one of her own, just to mask the dragons’ involvement.

And then Kirek realized: Her mother was so devious.

Maybe she intended for Kirek to fight the other dragon to the death all along, unbeknownst to either combatant, in order to make the show of Kirek’s protection all the more convincing.

If the princess died in the process, so much the better; the wheels of their plot were in motion, succeeding where Branon had failed, and Kirek would appear innocent.

If the princess didn’t die, it would still open the door for Branon to trust the dragons’ word.

And now Kirek’s killing the princess would ensure his trust, and the human queen would still be none the wiser, if all went to plan.

“Do you mind the princess’s death?” Branon asked, his gaze shrewd.

“You’ll see.” Kirek spoke through gritted teeth, but for once, Branon wasn’t the one she wanted to bite. “You’ll know the moment. Your moment to rise. And none of us will stop you.”

He scoffed. “That is no guarantee of anything. How do I know I can trust that you’re not setting me up to fail?”

“Do you wish me to hold your hand through it all, as if you were a child?” She heaped her words with enough scorn to sink a dragon in flight.

His jaw clenched, color flushing his cheeks. It wasn’t nearly as charming on him as it was on Samansa.

Kirek sneered at him. “Never fear. You will have your guarantee. And it will be written in blood.”

She didn’t say whose blood, but he could guess. She didn’t want to make this too easy for him, after all. She wanted him to sweat.

She would prefer to make him bleed.

But it would be Samansa who would bleed, instead. The thought felt like a dagger in Kirek’s own chest, right where she kept the princess’s floral silk kerchief folded and tucked under her armor, over her heart. And yet there was no other path. Her mother had made that painfully clear for her.

As she stared at Branon, watching him mull over her words, she realized she utterly despised him. He’d tried to kill his sister, who had done nothing to harm anyone. Who was only ever kind and filled with laughter. But that was a human thought. Dragons believed that the weak got what they deserved.

In him, Kirek saw herself. And she hated herself for it as well. She had let a soft, precious creature put trust in her that Kirek didn’t deserve.

Precious? Yes, Samansa was precious to her, like a sweet-smelling blossom carried on a warm spring wind. Rare. Lovely. Fleeting.

And now Kirek was going to betray her.

No one would suspect you now, not even if you did it in your own quarters.

With that thought, she knew just how she was going to do it.

Softly. As sweetly as possible. But as sure as autumn’s frost, Kirek would end her.