Page 65 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Forty-seven

Elowen

Despite it being winter in Galakin, the kingdom is the embodiment of summer.

The docks are bustling and the scents of spices and sweet tropical fruit create an intoxicating combination.

I lace my fingers through Cayden’s as the five of us hustle into the city.

Zario is vibrant with revelers for the winter solstice dancing to music performed by street musicians.

We were able to find a covered cave in which to dock the ship after sailing along the coast of an unpatrolled beach.

I thought the dragons would be upset when I commanded them to stay behind, but they dove into the shallow water, flapping their wings in the tiny waves as they relaxed.

They didn’t show signs of fatigue on the journey, but I’m sure they’re enjoying their rest.

Zario is built along a steep hill with curved roads framed by white stone homes no taller than two stories with domed roofs in varying colors.

My hair tickles the back of my arms as I tilt my head, gazing up at the staggering palm trees, heavy with coconuts.

Wherever we go, the ocean is visible and it’s just as crystalline at night.

Cayden tugs on my hand, stopping us at one of the street vendors selling slices of some fruit I’ve never seen while Finnian and Ryder try on extravagant masks embellished with feathers and jewels.

“What is this?”

“Just try it,” Cayden answers above the music and holds one of the slices sprinkled with red powder up to my mouth.

It’s sweet, savory, and a bit spicy all at once.

He chuckles when my eyes light up and I reach for another piece.

“The fruit is a mango, and it’s sprinkled in a mixture of lime, chili peppers, and salt. ”

“Why don’t we have these at home?” I ask incredulously.

“Mangoes only grow in the southern isles and Galakin, and they’re expensive to import.

This dish comes from the southern isles.

Many people fled here when Imirath conquered them because it most aligned with their lifestyle.

The winters in the isles are cold, not as bad as on the mainland, but in Galakin the people could make a living on the ocean and not have to worry about freezing while hauling nets. ”

It’s nice to hear him speak positively about the isles. He rarely does, and I can’t blame him. “When we win the war, I promise to eat mangoes with you until we hate them.”

“Sure thing, princess.” He throws an arm around my shoulders as a warm breeze ruffles my skirt and we turn down another road.

The entire row is made up of gambling dens, all in close proximity for people with deep pockets to hop from one to the other. Shutters on all establishments are open, and the sounds of cheers accompanied by cards being slammed down and chips raining drift into the street.

“Yes, I’d say we’re in the right place,” Ryder muses.

“Where do we even start?” Finnian asks.

“In the worst one possible,” I answer. “It’s the people nobody notices who know the most about everyone.”

I snag a bottle of rum off a table surrounded by unsuspecting patrons and take a swig before passing it along.

Though I’ve seen flame-wielders in action at home, it’s different being here where they’ve worshipped fire for centuries.

They pull the element from the lanterns lining the road and send sparks shooting through the air.

Some even go as far as to create a flock of fluttering birds or a slithering serpent coiling around the sun.

Neither my nor Cayden’s godly markings draw unwanted attention despite our arms being on full display because various citizens have covered their bodies in colorful, swirling paint.

Bowls of discarded shades spill onto the white stone road, and footprints create faded paths as whoever ran through it found something to capture their attention.

A deep bout of shouting draws my attention away from the paper lanterns hanging above. A clearly drunk man is thrown down a set of steps leading to one of the gambling halls by a sellsword far larger than him, made even more threatening by the burn scars covering half his face.

“This place looks perfect.” I grab the rum from Finnian’s hand before he has the chance to tip it back while I lead the group to an alleyway beside the small building. “You four wait here and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Why do I have to wait out here?” Finnian whines.

“Because you blush when you lie.” I take another sip before pouring some into my hand and dabbing it on my neck and the tops of my breasts, which are pushed up by my white band top with a star sapphire at the center.

The matching skirt hangs low on my hips along with a jeweled chain, and I dab more alcohol on my stomach to ensure I smell like I crawled through a tavern.

Cayden leans down to lick some off my chest and I shove his shoulders. “No interfering with the performance.”

“Can I have a private one?”

“I’m very expensive.”

He shrugs, leaning his back against the wall across from me and devouring me with his eyes. “Name your price.”

“You can’t say anything sarcastic for an entire day in response to any of us.”

“I said price, not miracle.”

“And he failed already,” Ryder says, claiming the spot beside Cayden. “I bet she gets what we need in twenty minutes.”

“Ten,” Cayden replies, shaking Ryder’s outstretched hand and jutting his chin toward the entrance.

Pride zings in my chest and I alter my walk slightly when I make it to the front steps, not wanting to seem obviously drunk.

Subtleness is what sells a performance. If I were truly drunk, I’d be doing everything in my power to make people believe I wasn’t.

The dragons push against the bond, wanting to disobey my command to stay out of sight and find me, but I dig my heels in and issue the command again, closing my eyes so nobody sees them glow gold in the dim light.

I knew their complacency would be short-lived, but I didn’t think it would end this quickly.

There’s hardly anything noteworthy in here aside from the chipped mosaic of the sea crashing along the domed ceiling, but it’s faded, same as the mismatched tables strewn about haphazardly.

The air is hot and thick with pipe smoke and sweat, and I shove my way to the bar, catching myself on the wooden surface.

I laugh to myself as I hop up onto a stool and smile at a pair of women who make brief eye contact before returning the gesture, giggling into their glasses.

“What are you drinking?” I ask, dropping my head onto my fist and kicking my legs.

“Rum and coconut water,” the one closest to me says. “Would you like to try?”

“Why not?” I give my order to the woman behind the bar and thank her when she slides it in front of me. I don’t love it, but it’s not the worst thing I’ve tasted.

“Are you from here?”

“Oh, no.” I laugh. “I’m just passing through on my father’s merchant ship.”

“Well, there’s certainly enough entertainment for a young woman in this kingdom in case you haven’t noticed.

” She glances over her shoulder where I don’t doubt several men glance in our direction, not just for me, but for them as well.

They may not be dressed in ornate gowns, but the lack of calluses on their hands makes me believe they’re highborn ladies looking for an escape.

Highborn people mostly keep to the more expensive part of the city, the Light District, so they’d have a better chance of not running into anyone they know here.

Beneath the bar, I transfer my wedding ring to a different finger. “Perhaps I should take advantage. My father plans to marry me off to the highest bidder once we dock at home. I fear I won’t be getting out of any arrangement unless I step back onto his boat with a prince on my arm.”

The woman on the left laughs, sympathy lining her eyes. “Well any prince of Galakin will be locked in the palace. They never come into the city. Prince Zale does on occasion, but never outside of his favored places—mainly artist piazzas or the theater.”

“Pity,” I slur and finish off my drink. “I heard that the prince of Thirwen is here? Is that true? I’ve always wanted to meet a prince.”

Both of them giggle as I smack my lips and huddle closer to hear their lowered voices. “There are rumors Prince Zarius frequents The Oracle . It’s a gambling den a few blocks over and much more expensive than this.”

My eyes light up. “Tell me more.”

The one closest to me leans in again, her brown eyes alight with mischief.

“He’s allegedly an awful drunk and even worse when he’s sober.

He has no inheritance but somehow has money despite his father disowning him.

I’d steer clear if I were you. He’s not known for his kindness and his red eyes are said to be quite unnerving. It’s like looking into pools of blood.”

“Then wish me luck trying to find a different rich man who will please my father.” I sigh and hop down from the stool, reaching over to pat their hands that rest on the bar.

They raise their glasses to me and I make sure to stumble over a chair leg as I wave over my shoulder. The scary bouncer at the door glares like he’s ready to throw me out if I linger too long and annoy him. I fist my skirt as I strut down the steps and around the corner to greet my friends again.

Cayden’s eyes light up at the sight of me and Ryder groans as he tosses a sack of syndrils into his outstretched palm. I drop into a curtsy, share the information I acquired, and the five of us make our way to the unknowing prince.