Page 5 of Veiled Flames (Destiny of Dragons #1)

Three

Rosomon

D ressed in a corset so tight I can’t breathe, and slippers so narrow and high I can’t walk, I join the elder of my twin brothers outside my chambers. Touching my mother’s gems at my throat, I try to draw more memories of her.

“What have I done to merit an escort?” I grin at Alfryd.

He doesn’t return the smile. “I am here at the King’s command.” Acting overly formally, my brother offers his arm, indicating I should rest my palm upon it.

Making a face, I nod my head toward his stiffly extended arm.

“Is this really necessary? No one is around to see us.” I immediately want to swallow my words.

“I mean… There are no courtiers nearby.” I should not have said that no one can see us.

Footmen line the corridor at intervals, ready to cater to our every whim. Well, my brother’s every whim.

“Tonight is very important,” Alfryd says. “You must be on your best behavior.”

I smile softly, thinking of the number of times I uttered those very words to my brothers when they were younger. Each had their own nurse, of course, but I did my best to stand in for the mother they never knew.

Alfryd’s arm remains patiently extended.

Conceding, I place my fingers lightly upon it, and the purple velvet of his formal coat is soft under my touch.

The color is becoming on the older of my two twin brothers, his peach-like complexion and chestnut hair very similar to our father’s, while Olifer and I take after the Queen.

“So, the King of Khotor is here?” I say, as we start walking.

“The King of someplace ,” Alfryd says. “Where is Khotor again?”

“Five days travel by horse to the South. Ten or more by carriage. Their reigning king is named Vyktor.” The name which earlier escaped me falls to my tongue and leaves a bitter taste. “The King is very old, and his son, Lancet, is first in the line of succession.”

“Kingscraft and history are such a bore,” Alfryd says. “I can’t keep the details in my head. You’re so much better at this kind of thing. It’s too bad I am first born.”

I glare at him—I was born seven years before my brothers, who have but five and ten years.

“Perhaps I should be the one to succeed father,” I say, willing it into existence.

“If only.” Alfryd smiles wistfully.

Hope for my fate rises. “Once you become King, should you find the role doesn’t suit you… You could always abdicate to put me on the throne.”

My brother laughs so hard he bends forward, and his arm falls from my touch.

“Is that so funny?” I adjust my bodice, trying to ease the stabbing pain of the corset’s bones.

He straightens and gives me a quizzical look. “Are you being serious , sister?”

“Of course.”

Making a face, he shakes his head. “That’s beyond absurd.”

“Why?” I raise my chin. “You yourself stated that I’m far more suited to the role. I know the history and geography of the Seven Kingdoms of Light. I better understand both diplomacy and battle tactics. In fact, I bested you in every subject taught by your pedagogues.”

I bested both my brothers in combat training too, especially Olifer who has always been frail, but there is no need to be a braggart, or to rub my brother’s nose in the truth like a puppy.

“Come.” Alfryd raises his arm again. “Father’s waiting. There’s no time to spin your tales of fancy, like you did when Olifer and I were children.”

“Tales of fancy?” I rest my hand on his arm again.

As we walk, my slippers painfully crush my toes, fueling the ire bubbling inside me. I hate that he compared my perfectly valid idea to the fairytales I told my brothers when they were young.

“My suggestion was real,” I say. “My statements were fact .”

“Perhaps.” He shakes his head. “Perhaps if you were a man.” He shrugs. “With the Prime Klerick’s blessing, it’s possible that I could abdicate for Olifer. But you are a girl , and the mere suggestion of you sitting on the throne is laughable. And against the laws of succession.”

I unclench my jaw. “When you become King, you could change any law you desire.”

“But I do not desire it,” he says sharply. “Besides, it’s more than a law, it’s a Tenet of Othrix.” His arm stiffens under my fingers. “Is this the thanks you give when I offer a compliment, sister? One day I will be King. You best learn your place.”

Retorts threaten to burst from inside me.

I know my place all too well. But my anger remains trapped inside the tight corset, and my rage is left to bubble against its boning and fabric, like underground caldrons of mud that erupt from the depths of the earth in the barrens beyond the Seven Kingdoms.

Luckily, there are no such portals to the Darkness in Achotia.

“Sister,” Alfryd says more gently, “you are blessed with other ways to serve the King.” His pace quickens, and I’m forced to match it, amplifying the pain in my feet. “In fact, your service is why Father seeks an audience with you now.”

I’m shocked and excited that the King wants to see me. Instead of leading me to the banquet hall, Alfryd guides me toward a small reception room at its side, a private space reserved for my father and his most honored guests. A place I have never seen in my life before now.

Alfryd leaves me at the door, and my belly rises in my throat. Why does the King want to see me? Does he know I took Sky Stallion today? Does he mean to scold me himself, instead of leaving that to Nurse?

A large fire crackles and snaps, and Father stands before it.

His tall, solid body leans forward, and both his hands rest on the stone mantel like he’s searching for something lost in the flames.

Three of his spaniels, I know not their names, raise their heads as I enter.

But they quickly return to their naps as if they too know I’m no one worth noticing.

The room is lined in the finest stonewood panels and decorated with tapestries and paintings depicting hunting and battle scenes.

The furniture in here is large and bulky, and the air is scented with ale and stormgrass smoke.

I’ve never been inside a place so unabashedly masculine, and it fills me with a sense of power, like I’ve been admitted to a secret club.

“Your Grace,” I say, thinking he did not hear me enter.

Father pushes off the mantle and turns toward me.

I curtsey.

“Good,” he says.

I lift my gaze. Was that praise for me? Is he complimenting my curtsey?

“You look very well in that gown.” He steps toward me and stands with his legs spread. Firelight glows around him as his gaze travels over my personage, like he’s surveying a section of his property.

And that’s exactly what he is doing.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

He drops into a large chair, covered in worn, deep brown leather. Placing his hands on its arms, he leans back, and the dogs position themselves at his feet. Situated, he continues to study me as if I’m a creature from a land far flung from the Kingdoms of Light.

He gives no indication I should sit. Manners and protocol dictate I should not, even though my feet are now screaming to be freed from the torturous confines of the slippers, tilting me painfully forward onto crushed toes.

I’m rarely this close to him, and the fire highlights a few strands of gray in his hair I haven’t seen before, and a few in his closely cropped beard.

His expression is grim. I am to be scolded. At least that’s some form of attention.

“Daughter, I have something of the upmost importance to discuss with you.”

Hope and curiosity push aside my discomfort. Something important ? With me ?

“Come.” He reaches his hand toward me, and I tentatively step closer, every bone in my body feeling like this is some kind of trap. Father rarely even looks at me, never mind touches me.

Finding a space to stand between the lounging dogs, I slide my fingers over his offered palm. He looks into my eyes, and I’m instantly filled with warmth and happiness, basking under my father’s much wanted attention.

“I fear I have failed you, my daughter.”

“Failed me?” My heart is racing so fast I fear for my life. “What do you mean?”

“After your mother passed to the Great Beyond—” his eyes fill with sadness “—you were raised without discipline, like a wild beast.”

Looking into his eyes, I feel the depth of how much he misses his queen, and my heart goes out to him. I barely remember her, but she was his wife.

“You remind me of her,” he says.

“I do?” Pride swells my chest. He’s comparing me to the beautiful woman in the main gallery’s portrait. The image of my mother I best know.

Father drops my hand, and I instinctively take a step back, narrowly missing a spaniel’s tail.

“Yes, you very much remind me of her.” His expression turns serious. “And I call upon you now to serve your kingdom, in the same way your mother served hers.”

My chest swells with pride. “What do you need of me, Father? I’d do anything to serve Achotia.” Anything to serve him , in truth. After years of Father’s indifference, my time has finally come to prove myself.

“You will help me strike an accord with Khotor.”

I shudder, thinking of that horrible king. Am I meant to aid in the negotiations? “I…I don’t understand.”

“There are many things you do not understand.” He shakes his head as if my ignorance is bothersome. “As a girl, you are ignorant of many things, but I’ll make an attempt to explain the situation in the simplest manner possible.”

I bite my tongue.

“First,” he says gravely, “you must know that there are sinister plots afoot.”

I lean forward, drawn into the intrigue, beyond excited that he’s involving me in the affairs of kingscraft for the very first time.

“Ever since the Upheaval—” he shakes his head “—I have no time to explain what that means. But suffice it to say that the Seven Kingdoms have lacked stability.”

I nod. I’ve read extensively about the Upheaval—how the Darkness invaded, and only by the grace of Othrix did the Seven Kingdoms survive.