Page 27 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)
“And he means to replace you as heir with his firstborn son,” Cayden says through a clenched jaw.
“He’s going to have more children,” I echo in a daze. I’ll potentially have siblings. Innocents being born into a war-torn kingdom. “Oh, gods.”
Male heirs are favored, but in certain cases, like Eagor’s mother, a woman can ascend.
“ You are the princess of Imirath. Rightful heir to the throne with a bond to five dragons and a marriage secured to the king of their enemy kingdom. People will pledge themselves to your name no matter what your father says.”
“We will be fighting an endless war if he has a son before we kill him.” I rip the papers in half and toss them into the fire, watching as the flames curl their edges until they’re nothing more than dust.
“Whoever takes the throne after Garrick will always be threatened by your existence. They will never stop hunting you. Even if you withdraw your claim, you’ll still be the rightful heir reigning in their bordering kingdom.”
I rest my elbows on my bouncing knees. “What does the conflict between Imirath and Vareveth stem from? I know it had to do with disputes over magic and land, but there must be something more to poison two peoples against each other.”
Imirath is technically accepting of water magic; it’s not hard to understand given their capital is built upon a series of isles, but most mages keep to godly land.
Their use of magic was limited in Imirath, and it created tension with Vareveth rulers who predated Eagor and let earth magic run rampant in the kingdom.
When reading the myths of Ravaryn, I saw illustrations of mermaids sunning themselves on the black beaches of Imirath, shining with gold foil beside the lengthy text.
“Hatred can be inherited. It passes through bloodlines just as physical features and religion,” Cayden says. “Many Imirath and Vareveth people have lost loved ones to the ongoing conflict and harbor malice over time.”
“But the Crimson Tide War had a cause, even if it’s disputed by both sides. If I’m to unite two kingdoms with a strong, shared hatred, I need to know the true origins.”
“There was ‘The Slaughter of the Seven,’?” Cayden begins.
“About three hundred years ago a group of Atarah princesses and princes were traveling to a summer palace close to the Vareveth border. The queen at the time had a total of ten children, and the three heirs closest in line to the throne remained in the capital to study politics and swordsmanship instead of attending the holiday. However, the seven never made it to the palace. Every beach and forest was searched but there was no trace of them. Many blamed the abduction or murder on Vareveth soldiers sneaking over the border because a scrap of a torn green cloak was found on a branch not far from the road.”
“Gods,” I mutter. “That’s awful.”
Cayden nods. “There was also cause for Vareveth to villainize Imirath. After the battles between the two kingdoms began, a Dasterian crown prince was captured and fell in love with a lowborn woman from Imirath who healed him. He was too valuable for Imirath to let him die. One night, she set him free from his cell and smuggled him a piece of parchment. He pinned a letter to his cell stating he wanted nothing to do with the war and was running away with this woman. Imirath sent hounds after them, favoring his death over losing him entirely. Both were torn to pieces, and parts of the prince were delivered to the Vareveth castle. Their tale is called ‘The Pauper and Prince of Parts.’?”
“Well, whoever coined that certainly has a way with words. I’m beginning to think there are no happy endings in this world.” I shake my head. “And you think I should take the throne of Imirath? You think I can erase years upon years of hostility?”
“I want to make your father regret every wrong he ever dealt you and return it a thousandfold.” He licks his lips and moves closer, not stopping until he’s kneeling before me and clasping my hands in his.
I hate that they’re shaking. It makes me feel as weak as I look.
I’ve always wanted to be strong when facing Imirath, but sometimes it’s like the mere mention of it reverts me into the little girl splitting her wrists open on her shackles as she tries and fails to claw her way to her dragons.
My dragons.
They’d be hunted, too, not just me.
“You are not the flaw in the family line like he tries to make everyone believe; you are the pinnacle. You are the only ruler I have ever believed in, and I put faith in nothing. It’s true that Imirath and Vareveth have been enemies for centuries, but you are the first person to have a claim to both.
You will never be able to eradicate the past, but you can promise these people a future. ”
“Imirath.” I can practically taste the blood in my mouth, can smell it, can feel it.
My thoughts keep coming, pummeling me into the ground and making my limbs feel boneless.
I’m both light and heavy. Clammy and freezing.
I feel like I need to run and like I already ran a mile. “They humiliated me in that castle.”
“The people who were complicit in your torture will die.” His voice is raw and rough.
“I will kill any enemy and do whatever it takes to keep you alive. If you don’t want to rule Imirath, I understand, but I want you to think about it before declining.
When I took you to the village where I was born it…
eased something in me. The pain is still there, but there is also happiness.
You did that for me, and if you give me the chance, I’d like to do the same for you. ”
It’s nearly impossible to think with a clear head when it comes to Imirath.
I want to leave this tent and spend several days in the forest, not thinking, not speaking, just existing.
My words are stuck in my throat like thousands of bees buzzing within a hive, but I don’t have the energy to let them out.
I can’t live with the constant threat of Imirath, and it’s not only my life I’m fighting for.
When I was in exile, I was told I’d never have an army large enough to take on Imirath, but I do now.
I was told I’d never see my dragons again, but I freed them from the castle where my father cowers.
I was prophesied to either be the salvation or doom of Imirath, but maybe those two paths are actually one.
Perhaps the only way to be the salvation of Imirath is to doom the Atarah line.
I’m tired of being viewed as a discarded princess, unwanted by her own father despite being his only living heir.
Putting limits on myself never seems to work in anyone’s favor, and perhaps I should prove that to Garrick one last time by taking what is owed to me.
“What if—” I get to my feet and begin pacing, my boots silenced by the rug. My fingers press into my forehead, and then slowly slide over to ease the pounding in my temple. “What if I do want more?”
“Whatever you want, we’ll see it done.”
I dip my hands beneath my curls to rest on the back of my neck. “What about Feynadra and Urasos? They both rest on our northern border and I doubt they’d like the idea of Imirath and Vareveth becoming one kingdom. There would be no barrier between them and the largest army in Ravaryn.”
“To deny your claim to Imirath would be contradicting their own, and they’d like Garrick overtaking Vareveth far less.
You do not have the reputation of a tyrant, but Garrick does.
He continues to oppress the southern isles, which were once an independent kingdom before your great-grandsire conquered them.
Both Feynadra and Urasos are notoriously neutral.
The landscape of Urasos makes it nearly impossible to invade and Feynadra has a good relationship with Galakin—who you know hates Imirath—because their queens are sisters.
Though Nasha is the queen of Feynadra and hates Thirwen because of the sister she lost, she doesn’t have as much power as Cordelia because she married into her crown; Cordelia was born for hers. ”
“Be that as it may,” I begin, “no ruler in Ravaryn will support how we gained Vareveth’s crowns. Even a spark can light their world on fire.”
“It’s best to ignore the mumblings of a mindless mob built on tradition,” Cayden states, resting his hands on the hilt of his blade as he watches me.
“You and I were not raised as these people were. The world is controlled by people who believe they’re important and broken by those who know they’re not.
My worth was not given, I made it with my blade, and if they stand against us, they’ll soon realize their mistake. ”
I thread my hands through my curls again. “The people of Imirath have been conditioned to hate me for years. I doubt they’ll be secretly stitching banners with our sigil, waiting for me to return.”
His gaze takes on that calculating gleam. “There is another matter I need to discuss with you.”
“Well, it’s not as if this one is resolved.”
“No.” He drapes my cloak over my shoulders. “But this could influence it.”