Page 9 of Wild Flame (Wild Bond #2)

Chapter Nine

“ A nd how have you found our fair city so far, Your Highness?” Prince Amir asked the next night at dinner. I had once again been seated next to the Zehvitian royals. Prince Amir sat across from me, while his brother sat at the head of the table. Zara and Queen Vashti had already been excused and were mingling with the other guests in the banquet hall. Dozens of dragons in their minor forms were spread out around the hall. Amir’s dragon, Virath, sprawled lazily next to his rider, while Azrun was beside Malik. The red dragon’s back was straight as his assessing gaze scanned his surroundings, deceptively casual, but ready. I was constantly amazed at how similar dragon’s temperaments were to their riders.

“Hot,” I replied honestly.

Amir chuckled. So did a few others who remained at the table.

“Really? This heat is mild compared to that of the true summer months.”

I gave him a tight smile. “Then it is fortunate I missed them.”

“I suppose it takes strong Zehvitian blood to handle our weather,” Priya—who sat a few seats down from me—commented with a fake smile as she lifted her wine goblet to her lips.

I made sure my smile wasn’t at all fake as I responded. “I wonder how well your Zehvitian blood would handle a Halmarish winter, my lady?”

Amir chuckled as Priya’s mouth tightened and tipped his glass to me. “Touche', Princess. Though surely you have found something to like about our kingdom.”

“She has. I hear you have befriended our sister,” Malik stated.

A look of annoyance flashed over Amir’s face at the interruption, but he masked it quickly.

“Word travels fast,” was all I said.

Malik eyed me. “It’s hard to keep anything a secret in this palace.”

I gave him a look. “It’s not a secret. Do you have a problem with my befriending your sister, Your Highness?”

He shook his head, a piece of his dark, cropped hair falling to rest beside his temple. “None at all. Except for the fact that she simply won’t stop going on about you. 'Leida said this. Leida did that . . .'” he mimicked with a smile. “Realms, one would think you were The Maiden incarnate for how much she carries on. Though I will admit to being surprised.”

I looked at him sharply. “Why should my befriending your sister be surprising?”

“I simply find it an unlikely pairing,” he answered without hesitation. “Though, not unwelcome.”

I had no reply to that, and so instead took a drink of my wine.

“Zara told me you sparred with her on the practice field,” Priya spoke up once more. “In a dress. ”

Prince Amir made a scoffing sound, as if he found the idea of sparring in a dress ridiculous. Either that, or he was scoffing at the very idea of my sparring at all.

“Was that a question, Lady Priya?” I asked, perhaps a little too sweetly, but this woman was getting on my nerves. I had hardly said two words to her since our introduction, and for some reason she seemed to want to antagonize me.

The woman shrugged, her bare tan shoulders gleaming in the candlelight from the chandelier above. “I was merely making an observation.”

“Yes, we did spar. And yes, I happened to be in a dress at the time. I hadn’t been planning on participating, but Zara can be quite convincing.”

“Zara said you have skill,” Malik noted. That dark, focused gaze never moved from me, and my blood thrummed in my veins as our eyes met and held for a brief moment.

Before I could respond, another voice from across the table piped up. “She’s more than skilled. She nearly beat Zara during a few rounds,” Ramin stated. I tried to fight my blush as he continued speaking. “It was impressive when you consider she’s not a dragon rider herself.”

“Zara is only a trainee,” Priya argued. Then she glanced my way. “Not to impugn your skill, Your Highness,” she clarified, though the comment lacked sincerity. It was also the first time she had used my title when addressing me. I wasn’t one to stand on ceremony, but it also irked me that she was being purposefully disrespectful.

“She held her own when we sparred,” Ramin rebutted, eyeing the other woman. “And I am no trainee.”

The conversation moved on after that, but I caught Ramin’s eye and gave him a slight nod of thanks, which he returned.

Sometime later, dancers came in along with a group of musicians. By this time, the food had long since been cleared away and people were mingling and having discussions over glasses of wine.

I moved to the side to watch the performance, so I was well out of the way. Leif came to stand beside me as we watched the half-veiled women move through the crowd, dancing provocatively around the guests.

“Aren’t they wonderful?” Zara asked with a wistful tone as she came to stand on my other side. “I wish I could dance like that.”

“Me too,” I found myself saying, and I was stunned to find it was true. Zara giggled, and I allowed my eyes to travel over the dancers. They snagged on one dancer in particular, who was now swaying before Prince Amir. The prince’s eyes were glazed, and it was obvious he’d had too much to drink; even his dragon was swaying slightly. Dragons couldn’t get inebriated like their riders, but they could be affected by their rider’s state through the bond. For this reason, most riders were very disciplined in how much they drank and what they put into their bodies. Nothing good came of a rider—or dragon—with impaired reasoning.

Shaking my head and dismissing the prince from my thoughts, I decided it was now or never. “Zara,” I said, clearing my throat. I couldn’t stand the idea of this innocent girl getting hurt if there was something I could do to prevent it.

She turned to me, and I could see I had her full attention.

“I have something for you.” Reaching down, I unclasped the silver bracelet I had bought for myself after being inducted into The Order of Assassins and held it out to her. It was a simple chain, with only a small shimmering scale suspended in pale amber at its center.

“It’s a scale that came from an ocean sprite,” I explained as she took it from me. “One of the rarest creatures in Halmar. Its scales are said to be a protection from harm and bad luck as long as you wear it.” It would also protect her from the Nakki poison that The Order always used in some form during their assassinations if another attempt was indeed made on her life. It was the only protection I could offer Zara right now without revealing what I was and what I had done.

Mesmera, who I had failed to notice until now due to the fact that she had been hiding in Zara’s long hair, began fluttering above her, staring at the glimmering bracelet with rapt attention. Dragons were notorious for having a fixation with shiny things.

Zara stared at it, too, then her eyes met mine. “It’s beautiful, but—but why give it to me?”

I shrugged ever so slightly, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t of great importance. “It is tradition in my land to always wear protective charms or talismans. Usually, they are tied to one of the Nine, but not always, and they always hold significance to the wearer.” I looked at her. “I want you to have this one, as a—as a sign of our friendship, and to thank you for being so kind to me since I arrived.”

For a moment she didn’t react, and I worried I had made an error. My mind scrambled as I tried to come up with a way to backtrack, when without warning, Zara flung her arms around me in a hug.

“Thank you, Leida! Thank you!” she cried excitedly. “I shall treasure it.”

Startled by her enthusiastic response, it took me a second to return the embrace, and as I did, I tried not to feel the guilt that assailed me. Pushing that aside as she pulled back, I smiled at her. “You’re welcome.”

Thankfully, I was given a reprieve when the queen beckoned Zara over to her. I grabbed a glass of wine from a passing servant and took a drink.

“That was very kind of you,” Leif noted from beside me and I jumped, nearly sloshing my drink on the floor. I had forgotten he was there. The man was so quiet.

I glanced at him. “Yes, well . . . I’m here to foster good relationships with Zehvi. Am I not?” Not that I had been doing a very good job of it so far. I hadn’t really been trying to get close to Malik like my father wanted. I wanted no part in whatever political game he was playing, so I was dragging my feet.

Leif’s eyes gleamed, and I could have sworn his mouth quirked ever so slightly, but he didn’t call me on the lie. He simply nodded. But then he murmured, “You know you are allowed to make friends, Leida.” I glanced up at him and he smiled. “Other than myself and your sister, I mean.”

I rolled my eyes at him as a Zehvitian rider I didn’t recognize moved to Leif and began to engage him in conversation.

Turning back to face the hall, I noted that the dancers had moved off to the side and a man and woman now stood on a small platform that had been erected in the center of the space. The woman began to sing an achingly beautiful ballad about a lost love, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to get lost in the music.

I had always adored music. As a little girl, I would sneak down to the great hall after the nursemaid had already put me in bed in order to hear whatever performer my father had gained for the entertainment that night. I had always been small and good at hiding, even back then, and so it was easy enough to find a spot near the back of the hall to hide and listen and watch. My favorite had always been when my father allowed bards to sing about the old tales. I loved hearing stories about our ancient seafaring ancestors and the warring clans, or the tales of Queen Lethara.

I never cared if the tales were sad or happy. I loved them all, and I loved the music that accompanied them. It was what had first inspired me to sing songs of my own.

A presence came to stand beside me. I didn’t have to glance over to know who it was before he spoke.

“She has a lovely voice,” Malik murmured. “Though it pales in comparison to yours.”

I opened my eyes and glanced at him. “Hardly. You, my lord, have had too much wine.”

Without taking his eyes off me, he nodded towards the performers. “I should like to see you up there, enchanting the room with your siren song.”

I rolled my eyes—I was doing that a lot tonight—and took a sip of my own wine. “As I told you before, I don’t perform for others. The only person who has ever heard me sing is my sister.”

“And me,” he murmured conspiratorially.

His eyes danced as I stared up at him, and I tried to ignore the small flutter in my stomach as I conceded, “And you.”

His lip twitched. “Will you sing something for me, siren?” he asked. “Not here. Not today. But someday?”

“No,” I said, the word coming out slightly breathless.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You would refuse a king?”

I glared at him. “You are not king yet. And you are not my king.” My reply only seemed to amuse him more. “Why should you want to hear me sing, anyway?”

He studied me, and when his answer came, it was not what I expected. “Because you have the voice of an angel, and I want to hear it again.” A simple answer. Said with none of the teasing calculation or charm I was coming to expect from him. Truth rang in every word.

It was . . . disarming.

“Will you sing for me?” he persisted. “Someday?”

Something in my chest tightened. The feeling was entirely unsettling. “No,” I finally said softly. “No, I will not.”

He smiled, and it was knowing. He held my stare. “We’ll see.”

Wanting to get some distance from that look in Malik’s eyes, I glanced away. But my gaze then fell on Salim and Priya, who stood across from us on the other side of the hall. They were staring boldly at Malik and me, Salim glaring daggers at me and Priya with a sour look she quickly masked when our stares collided.

It was also at that moment that I could feel the tension coming from Leif on my other side. He had obviously finished his conversation with the rider he had been speaking to and I felt embarrassment creep in that he might have heard some of my conversation with Malik.

Malik’s eyes were still on me as well, and I was scrambling for something to say when an enraged shout interrupted the performance, and everyone in the hall turned to see the cause.

Prince Amir.

He was obviously drunk and was yelling at Ambassador Nilfren, pushing the other man away from him.

Malik tensed beside me and gestured to a few of the guards. But in the next second, Amir’s dragon shifted to his natural form, smashing several tables and knocking over one filled with refreshments in the process. Virath snarled down at a now terrified looking Nilfren.

Several nobles screamed and scrambled back, nearly being crushed by the dragon’s massive bulk. One man was swept off his feet by the dragon’s long tail. The hall was large enough to accommodate several dragons in their natural forms, but not when it was full of people. Many of the dragons in their minor forms were hissing and snapping in agitation, adding to the rising din.

“Step back!” Malik commanded. Members of the Fangdar and several other riders began to clear the hall, ordering people out or to the edges of the room.

Leif pulled me back as Malik and his dragon strode into the empty space that had been created, and Azrun transformed. The red dragon was larger than Virath, and I gaped at seeing his massive bulk up close. I had thought my father’s dragon was intimidating, but this creature was another thing entirely. Azrun was one of the largest dragons in Palasia, second only to the black dragon, Naasir, bonded to the Baldorian spymaster. His long black horns framed his mammoth head and ran along his entire back to his whiplike tail, merging with his crimson and scarlet scales.

“Enough, brother!” Malik cried. His dragon stood like a sentry behind him, arched his long, spiked neck and let out a ferocious roar that echoed around us, reverberating throughout my entire body as I covered my ears.

Several things happened at once. Amir took a faltering step back from Nilfren, Virath cowered and shifted back to his minor form, and a nobleman near me stumbled back, lost his footing, and collided with a lit brazier in front of one of the marble pillars. The bowl of flaming oil tipped precariously before crashing to the ground and spilling its contents everywhere. The fire spread quickly and suddenly all I could see were the flames before me.

I forgot about the dragons, the confrontation, and the others in the hall. All I could hear was the crackling of the orange flames and the feel of heat on my skin. I fought to keep the panic at bay and was failing miserably when large hands gripped my arms and yanked me back from the flames.

I blinked to find Leif’s familiar face staring down at me in concern as he pulled me to a safe distance. “Are you all right, Princess?” he asked, cupping my face.

His skin felt rough against mine and I quickly nodded, blinking several times as I sucked in a large gulp of air and forced my breathing under control.

“I’m fine,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile that was probably more of a grimace before he nodded and dropped his hand, though I could still see the concern in his deep-set eyes. We never spoke about it, but Leif had been there the day I was brought back to the castle on a litter, my back a burned mess. He hadn’t known, however, about my resulting fear of fire.

He did now. I could see it in his eyes. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then again, maybe he had always known. Helene could have told him during those many months I lay healing in my bed.

When I could finally focus on something other than my fear, I turned back to find the majority of the flames had already been put out, the broken furniture beginning to be cleared away, and the room set to rights. Amir and his dragon were no longer in the hall, and the musicians had started up again. But their efforts were in vain. The festive air of the celebration had been ruined, and I knew many would begin to seek their beds.

Across the hall, Azrun had shifted back to his minor form and stood beside Malik. One of Malik’s men was speaking to him, but the prince’s gaze wasn’t on him. It was on me. Considering. Those dark eyes moving stiffly between me and Leif.

Suddenly realizing how close Leif and I were standing, I made a point of putting some space between us. I also tried to look like my heart wasn’t still racing and my palms weren’t sweating from being scared out of my wits mere moments ago. But I knew those eyes of his missed nothing.

Leif’s jaw hardened as I stepped away, but he made no comment. Instead, he offered to escort me back to my room. I nodded and refused to acknowledge the continued stare I felt burning into my back as I left the hall.