Page 15 of Song of the Heart Scale (The Dragon’s Ballad #3)
Jacob stepped protectively in front of me. “Your Highness, this is hardly the appropriate time—”
“I wasn't asking, Young Master Jacob,” Thorne cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your sister and I have matters to discuss.”
Gianna's face contorted with barely concealed jealousy. “Your Highness.” She curtsied deeply, her voice so sickly sweet, it almost gave me a cavity. “Please accept our deepest condolences for your father's passing.”
Thorne barely spared her a glance. “Lady Gianna. Your... concern is noted.”
I snorted and headed toward Thorne. “What’s up?”
He furrowed his brows, not understanding my lingo as he glanced up at the sky and then back at me. “Uh… always refreshing to see you, Lady Arya.” He cleared his throat. “Is there somewhere private we may speak?”
Jacob sidled closer to me. “Arya, you don’t have to—”
I waved him off. “It’s all good. Tell Father I’ll be in shortly.”
Hesitantly, Jacob nodded and ushered both Gianna and a reluctant Maeve inside. Once they were gone, Thorne motioned for us to head deeper into the gardens, and I followed.
“Shouldn’t you be in mourning? Like, at the palace by your father’s side or dealing with politics and shit?” I asked with furrowed brows.
Thorne chuckled. “Such a straight shooter. That’s what I like about you, Arya. You get to the point. But yes, I should be, but I wanted to speak with you. As you may have heard, our wedding has been… postponed.”
I nodded. “Thank the Immortals.” I swept my gaze to the sky and lifted prayer hands.
Thorne sent me a glare I’m sure he thought I didn’t see, but I saw it.
“Please try to contain your enthusiasm, Lady Arya,” Thorne gritted between his teeth.
I chuckled. “Apologies, Your Highness,” I bowed mockingly. “Or should I say Your Majesty now?” I raised a brow.
He cleared his throat and straightened a little, making himself seem taller. “Soon, Lady Arya, real soon.”
“I guess congratulations are in order,” I murmured. “It’s a shame though, that you had to become emperor this way.”
“Pardon?” He stopped walking and stared at me.
I stopped and peered over at him, smiling innocently. “Well… ascending due to the emperor’s death. And not just a regular death but…” I glanced around the garden and then whispered, “ murdered .”
His blue eyes widened and he nervously looked around. “Lady Arya, you should be careful with what you say.”
I shrugged. “I mean, am I lying?”
“Those claims are unfounded,” he said calmly. “Whatever Lord Zacharia has shared, he has no right to—”
I sighed dramatically and looked up at the sky with my hands on my hips. “Trust me, bud, my pops ain’t sharing shit.”
“Wh-What?” he stammered at my informality and unusual terms. Then his eyes hardened. “Damien,” he growled.
“Bingo.” I winked at him and shot him with my finger guns.
“You should know better than to still be in communication with him,” he gritted. “It puts him in danger, you know.”
“Do you plan to kill him? Now that the emperor is dead, are you going to lift his exile like the good brother you are? Or at least the one you pretend to be?”
He narrowed his gaze on me.
“I just think killing Damien seems counterproductive.” I shrugged. “If you did that, then the image of the good brother you’ve spent building over the years will shatter.”
His eyes glittered. “I can always pay to have him killed.”
“Sure.” I gave another nonchalant shrug and turned to him, unflinchingly meeting his eyes without breaking contact.
“But if you do, I won’t rest until I prove it was you who ordered a hit on his own brother.
And from my understanding, you sort of need me alive, so you can’t really kill me to shut me up. So what are you gonna do?”
He smirked as he folded his arms over his chest. “You’re quite sinister.”
I grinned. “I’ve been called worse. Call me what you want, but no one will hurt what I consider mine, and Damien is mine . So tread carefully… Your Highness.”
Thorne snorted as he looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with me. “You’re but a mere human. What could you possibly do to me?”
I chuckled, covering my mouth like a delicate lady.
“Oh please, Your Highness, don’t underestimate this human.
You have no idea what I’m capable of and what I’ve already done in my short lifetime.
” I stepped toward him, crowding his personal space as I whispered, “I’ve done things that would give men twice your size nightmares, so trust me when I tell you I’m not one to cross. ”
Of course I was bluffing. I might have been an Army veteran who did a couple tours overseas, but I was no war-hardened mercenary.
But one thing I wouldn’t allow this pompous asshole to do was threaten my man.
I had no problem busting out my acting chops against anyone, including the man before me who was soon to be the emperor and could call for my head at any moment.
Thorne’s left eyelid twitched as he watched me, almost as if balancing whether I was telling the truth or not. I had an excellent poker face. And I must have convinced him, because he swallowed and his posture softened.
“There’s no need for that, Lady Arya.” He offered a charming smile, but he wasn’t convincing. I knew a snake when I saw one. And he was a venomous one, at that. “I wouldn’t dare hurt my brother. I care for him deeply.”
I snorted. “Let’s hope so.”
“Well, enough of that dreadful conversation. I came to talk about other things.” He strode toward a fragrant rose bush and plucked a red bloom, thorns and all, then tucked it into the bun at the nape of my neck. “There, a beautiful rose for a beautiful lady.”
I held back an eye roll. This dude had no creativity whatsoever.
He tenderly held my jaw and brushed the hair back from my face. “I’ve heard that the people are no longer singing the Song of the Dragon Rider … not even in secret. I wonder…”
“It wasn’t a very popular song,” I interrupted. “Especially after the emperor killed that songstress at the banquet for singing it.”
“Right.” I wanted to barf as he continued to caress my face. “Yet it makes me wonder why there’s no more talk of the twin flames?”
I shrugged and pulled away from him. “No one really cares about those fairy tales. I mean, twin flames?” I laughed. “It’s rather silly, is it not?”
Thorne’s face darkened a split second before he reached out and grabbed the back of my head, pulling me toward him roughly. “Silly?” he growled. “I think not. That twin flame mark on your arm will determine who the next true emperor is!” he snapped.
Caught off guard, I stood still before him, my hands flexing into tight fists, ready to punch his face. “Let me go,” I gritted between my teeth.
He laughed dryly. “What’s wrong, Lady Arya? Not so tough now?” he murmured, leaning his face so close to mine, I could smell his minty breath.
“Just remember I warned you,” I whispered, my voice deadly calm.
In one fluid motion, I drove my knee into his groin while simultaneously bringing my elbow up hard against his jaw. The satisfying crack and his pained grunt sent a thrill through me. I followed with a swift palm heel strike to his nose that sent him staggering backward.
Blood trickled from one nostril and his eyes widened in shock. “What the—” he sputtered, touching his face in disbelief.
I dropped into a fighting stance, balancing my weight on the balls of my feet. “Told you not to underestimate me, Your Highness.”
Rage transformed his handsome features. His eyes flashed—literally flashed—with an inner fire that made my stomach drop.
Right. Not human.
“You dare strike me?” His voice deepened to something inhuman, resonating with barely restrained power that made the ground tremble. The air around him rippled with heat that singed my skin.
“First lesson in combat,” I said, circling him. “Never underestimate your opponent.”
He lunged faster than any human could move. I barely managed to dodge his strike, feeling the whoosh of air as his fist passed millimeters from my face. The stone bench behind me shattered when he connected with it instead.
I used his momentum against him by grabbing his extended arm and twisting it behind his back. My combat training kicked in like muscle memory. Two tours in Afghanistan weren’t all for nothing.
“Second lesson,” I grunted, applying pressure to his joint. “Leverage beats strength.”
Thorne roared with a sound no human throat could produce.
Heat radiated from his body like a furnace, forcing me to release him or risk burns.
He whirled around, his eyes glowing with a fierceness I’d never seen before.
Scales—actual scales—began to shimmer beneath his skin.
“You think your human fighting skills will save you?” he sneered.
I backed away, cursing the elaborate dress restricting my movements. The heavy fabric tangled around my legs as I tried to maintain distance. “Maybe not,” I admitted, “but they'll sure as hell make you work for it.”
He charged again. This time I couldn't dodge completely. His shoulder caught me in the ribs, sending me sprawling across the garden path. As pain exploded in my side, I rolled with the momentum as years of training took over.
The skirt of my dress ripped when I scrambled to my feet. I grabbed the torn section and yanked hard, creating a thigh-high slit that provided more mobility. “Much better,” I muttered just as Thorne recovered and stalked toward me. Steam curled from his nostrils with each breath.
“Who taught you to fight like that?” he demanded, wiping blood from his chin.
“Uncle Sam,” I replied, knowing he wouldn't understand the reference. I circled to my right, looking for an advantage in this garden turned battlefield.
Thorne lunged again, but this time I was ready. I sidestepped and drove my elbow into his kidney. He grunted but didn't go down. His hand shot out, catching my wrist in a grip like iron.
“Enough games,” he snarled.