Page 34 of The Sun God’s Prize (Child of Scale and Fire #3)

I stand aside, again rigid and refusing to sit, Hallick’s interest returned to the Sun God, who has lowered his head and listens while the Chancellor tells him whatever it is he thinks Isthisahaloun wants to hear.

He can’t really be here just to negotiate a treaty or offer up princesses to the Sunnish ruler.

Can he?

I doubt it very much . The dragon intrudes, as she often does, without warning, though she sounds a little stronger than she did before. He’s using my sister’s magic . Her rage is a licking fire that must feed her as my own has been known to do for me. Thieving fuck.

Hearing her swear makes me snort, though I don’t know why. This has to be about what was done to Neem .

Agreed , she says. The disease has been pushing against my boundary for some time, but lately it’s been gaining in strength and force. Either that or I’m simply succumbing and can no longer hold it off . She sounds resigned. I do know that either way, I’m almost done, Flame .

She tells me without a trace of regret. Her resilience is a weight I’ll bear for her.

When that stolen power spreads , I say, what will happen?

They can rewrite history , she tells me, fading again.

As they did in the north. The Sun King will not stand against it, will be unmade as your kingdom was unmade.

Those who control what remains of Neem will own this land like they do the north.

All the way to me . She sighs. And with my power added to my sister’s …

I won’t let that happen , I tell her.

It’s far too late for that , she says. They’ve already drained me almost dry. But I have a few tricks left, and my daughter —she cuts off. Gone, just like that, while I try not to show the flinch of surprise.

Daughter?

Wait, is that the mysterious Aurous she’s brought up?

The Sun God rises in a languid grace that draws my gaze, Sheelan standing next to him, turning and exiting the throne room with Hallick following on their heels.

Theille glares as he goes, too. I hold myself rigid until they’re gone, wondering if I should pursue them—to what end but death, though?

—when Vae is abruptly in my face, one little index finger jabbing me between my breasts.

“I should have known you’d show up,” she snarls, “to ruin everything again.” The other three princesses match her hateful stare, though their fear barely lurks behind it, blame and accusation a thin shield I can break with a single lunge.

She doesn’t deserve a moment of my time. I push past her, Vae squealing when I bodily shove her out of the way, a satisfying if petulant move that I regret instantly. Not because it’s not exactly what she deserves, but because it’s petty and I’m above that.

I must be above that.

A servant leads the princesses away, two guards already flanking me.

Wait, where is the black-clad warrior who has become my threatening shadow?

She’s nowhere to be found, the guards guiding me in the opposite direction I arrived in, leading me deeper into the temple.

This might be my chance to escape, and I’m about to take it, when we stop at an archway.

I spot Theille, now dressed in what I’m certain he believes to be impressive armor, swords in his hands, standing in a small arena of sand surrounded by lush greenery and heavy, golden blossoms.

Surrounded by guards with bows, of course. I’ve lost my opportunity for escape, curse it, distracted and far too lost in thought for my own good.

It’s clear what he wants before I even step into the ring with him, the Sunnish heir saluting me clumsily with the sword in his right hand.

It’s far too long for his height, meant for visual impact, not any real benefit in a fight, and the bulky chest plate of silver and gold will buckle the moment I punch it, let alone a blade.

I’ll slice through the soft metal with minimal force.

It’s pretty enough, but if he thinks it will save him, I’m about to prove him wrong.

I’m grinning when I stop, but my hips are suddenly lighter, and as I turn to look, one of the guards has snuck up behind me while I allowed myself to be distracted by Theille’s ridiculousness, and unhooked the sword belt from around my waist.

Leaving me defenseless, even the dagger in my right greave gone.

Did they discover my secret, I wonder? I finger the cuff of my wrist guard, and my smile deepens, because they didn’t look closely enough.

Not that I need the fine wire or its two thin, steel handles wound in a tight coil inside the leather, Prenese’s clever garotte gift remaining.

But it’s comforting to have it, my hands flexing at my sides before I still, grounding into the sand, ready and willing to kill this boy.

“Let’s see what you have about you,” Theille says, lunging at me with both swords swinging.

He’s awkward and brutish despite his small size, easy to avoid, and will tire before too long.

I could take him then and there, snap his neck with a blow from one elbow as he overreaches and stumbles, presenting an easy target.

But the archers are ready, and the guards lining this toy arena have their own swords out, eyes locked on me.

Besides, this might be fun, and I’m short on that just now.

I step out of his way and wait for him to recover, flashing my teeth.

Theille grunts and comes for me again, stumbling through the sand, one blade sweeping low, the other high, meant to take me out at the knees and neck.

But he’s far from skilled enough with one sword, let alone balancing two in that intricate attack, and when he finds I’m no longer there, pivoting past him, he lands on his face in the sand.

With a little help from my foot planted in his skinny ass.

He comes up from the ground in a rage, spluttering and screaming, voice cracking, eyes wild. He’s discarded one of his swords and grips the other in both hands, swinging violently, chopping at me like so much firewood.

Theille’s humiliation will have to suffice, so I let it unfold, luring him close enough to see the spittle on his lips, the insanity in his dark eyes, before I trip him and send him sprawling again, waiting for yet another tantrum.

This time, when he reaches his feet, he’s barely coherent, though his meaning is clear when he points a shaking finger at me, face dark red and eyes bulging. “KILL HER!”

The guards hesitate. It’s the only saving moment in one that’s about to go badly, because it gives me the second I need to tuck and roll and slide free the garotte, steel handles in my hands, the thin wire circling his neck as I hunch behind him.

There are archers on all sides, but if I can use him as a shield, surely, they’ll take the threat seriously and not fire?

I’m about to find out, a thin line of blood blooming where the fine wire cuts his skin before the arrows are drawn and aimed.

“I’ll take him out before you can touch me,” I say.

Theille shudders in my grasp, gasping when that movement tightens the wire.

He stills immediately, whimpering, a tear trickling down one cheek, the sparkle in my periphery.

I can smell his terror, feel his deep tremor that will turn to sobbing soon enough, have to ease the tension on the garotte so he doesn’t decapitate himself, the fool.

I’ll happily kill him, but I’m sad I won’t get to do the same to Hallick, to this coward’s father.

That I won’t see my loves again.

“Well, that was stupid.” Sheelan marches through the tension like she doesn’t even realize how much danger she’s in, tsking at her brother and shaking her head.

I hear the easing of the bowstrings, the archers lowering their weapons, clearly unwilling to threaten their Sun God’s daughter, their concern and lack of surety allowing me to keep breathing for a least a little while longer.

“What were you even thinking, brother?” She gestures at me, her request obvious.

But it’s not until I spot that the black-clad warrior has joined us that I unwind the wire and step back.

Fully expecting arrows to take me out instantly.

Instead, Sheelan tugs on Theille, pulling him away from me, dusting him off while he shudders and stares at her, unable to speak.

“You’re a ruler, not a fighter. Leave such rough and tumble to the gladatte and guard.

” She pats his cheek with a fond smile that feels so out of touch with the moment that I almost laugh out of utter surprise.

“Go clean yourself up, dear,” she says. “I’ll take care of this. ”

Theille’s jaw tightens, but he nods and turns, viciously wiping at the tears on his cheeks, casting a furious look at me, though his eyes don’t meet mine, stalking off, throwing bits of his armor away from him in a show of temper that is far more toddler fury than nearly grown man rage. Pampered little shit.

Sheelan approaches me, holding out her hand. Her request is obvious. I drop the garotte into her grasp which she admires a moment before tossing it to a dazed guard who bows deeply to her as he accepts it. She then gestures to me with a beaming smile.

“Come,” she says. “You must be thirsty after all that silly fighting.”

Whatever she’s up to, I already know she’s not this empty-headed and charming daughter of the Sun God she’s playing at, but this is the second time she’s saved my life, and I’m beginning to think she’s made my safety her mission.

But for what reason?

I follow her back to my quarters, her hips swaying in front of me the whole way, the lingering threat of the order warrior behind me.

I ignore the latter in favor of Sheelan, far more graceful than her brother, though they share a similar physique, much like their father’s small stature.

It suits her, and while she’s small, she has a presence to her that has nothing to do with her accident of birth.

It’s not until the doors to my quarters close behind us, Sheelan firmly locking the warrior woman out despite her attempt to join us, that she turns to me, lips parted, eyes huge, anxiety taking her over. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “Are you all right?”

I’m not sure what to do with that. “I’m unharmed,” I say. “Thanks to you.”

She throws herself down onto the cushions on my bed.

They’ve been changed out, now a deep purple to match the dark tone of my armor.

A salute to the flag of Heald? It has to be Sheelan’s doing, though if she doesn’t know it matters not to me what color the fucking pillows are, I’m not going to say so.

I’d rather continue to have her on my side, for better or worse.

“I have no idea what’s gotten into Theille,” she says.

“Or Father, for that matter. No,” Sheelan frowns, biting her full lower lip before letting it free again in a soft pout that’s oddly appealing.

“I know exactly what happened.” She meets my eyes with her dark ones angry now.

“I trust you hold no love for the Chancellor whom your Overking sent to parlay with the Sun God?”

“Hallick,” I tell her as I cross to sink down next to her, closer than is polite, on purpose. “He’s a piece of shit whose guts I plan to spread over the floor at some point.” She giggles adorably, one hand over her mouth, while I point at her feet. “I’ll try not to get blood on your slippers.”

She bats at me then, her giggle turning into open laughter.

“I worked hard on that one,” she says. “Imagine, they think so little of me, that these,” she wiggles her toes, “mean more than…” Sheelan catches her breath, then looks away.

Is she blushing as she stares down at her hands?

“Well,” she pushes at a lock of hair that’s come unbound from her woven tresses, but misses tucking it, so I reach up to do it for her.

But she dodges my touch, fingers shaking when she finally succeeds the second time she tries.

Which has her stuttering a little before she lurches to her feet and rushes on.

“I’m just glad it did work. I’m worried.

” She turns to face me, grim again. “I don’t trust Hallick or your Overking, Remalla. ”

“But you trust me,” I say. “Sheelan.”

She starts like I’ve just revealed some giant secret that she hadn’t known she’d uncovered. “Oh, I…” her confusion has me sighing in my head.

You’re messing with her , I call out to the dragon.

This isn’t my doing , she says, surprising me by answering right away. The girl has a crush on you . She grumbles something that sounds like, the fire knows why. You’re making a mess of this seduction that’s been handed to you on a golden platter .

I stand deliberately, while Sheelan watches, both hands pressed to her chest.

“I shouldn’t,” she whispers.

“Shouldn’t?” It’s two strides to reach her, to stand over her. I don’t touch her, wait for her to touch me. I can tell she wants to, hold her gaze, let myself smile. The dragon’s wrong about the seduction. This I can handle.

“Trust you,” Sheelan says. Her lips tremble when she licks them, gaze falling to my mouth, flickering back to my eyes again. Her flush darkens further, the soft tremor taking her over.

Before she firmly, if shakily, backs away a step.

I give her that step. I could close the distance again, take her choice away from her. It would take so little, I can tell. A single kiss, a stroke of her neck. She’s ripe and she wants it, but until she comes to me…

I can’t trust her. And I need to be able to do that if I’m going to use her to escape.

“I should go.” She turns and flees, hurrying out, gone behind the door, leaving me frustrated and annoyed with myself, as the dragon sighs in my head.

What? I snap that at her. I don’t see you out here seducing princesses .

She doesn’t comment, gone again, too, leaving me more alone than I’ve felt in a long time.

And feeling very guilty, as much as I’m my mother’s daughter, and Jhanette would be the first to goad me into taking what wasn’t offered freely, if it meant success in this battle or any other.

The problem is, I like Sheelan. She’s proved herself different than her father, her brother. While seducing her isn’t off the table, I won’t force her into it.

There has to be another way.

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