Page 69 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Fifty

Elowen

I stand at the bow of the ship, letting the sea air caress my cheeks and whip my curls behind me.

There’s something so calming about being on the water, and when I look at Cayden sharpening his sword while gazing at the shore, I wonder if he gets the same freeing feeling aboard a ship as I do on dragonback.

We leave Zario behind and cross the river that splits it from Zraka and spills over steep cliffs into the ocean.

My skin prickles with awareness, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand.

I feel like I’m being watched. I look over my shoulder, but nothing is out of the ordinary.

Finnian, Ryder, Saskia, and a few crew members pile breakfast onto their plates.

Cayden’s gaze still hasn’t found mine, but my eyes drift to the river and the mountains in the distance.

Something tugs in my chest like someone tied a string around one of my ribs, and Cayden’s eyes flick to mine.

“Did you feel that?” He nods while setting his whetstone aside, granting me his full attention. “What’s in those mountains?”

“They’re uninhabited for all I know, infested with venomous snakes and other reptiles, not to mention the monsters native to this kingdom.”

Venatrix screeches as she glides closer to the river, only spreading her wings wide to alter her course when I get too far away for comfort. “Hmm.” I keep my eyes on the falls as we continue sailing past, not moving until they’re out of eyesight.

Ser Rhys escorts Prince Zarius onto the deck, and I dig my fingers into my throbbing temples in an attempt to alleviate the dull headache before he gives me another.

A water mage ventured into the city to collect the remainder of their things from Zario early this morning, so at least the prince looks more presentable than the previous day.

Nothing fancy, but his red linen shirt isn’t wrinkled or reeking of rum, and he’s donned some silver jewelry to add a bit of regality.

“Queen.” Zarius nods to me, seeming much more formal than last night. “King.”

“Have you thought about our offer?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Everyone has a choice. It just depends on whether you’re able to live with the consequences,” I answer.

“I have terms,” Zarius states, and Cayden gestures for him to proceed.

“As I mentioned yesterday, I do not have an army, and my father has other heirs from his new wife who citizens may favor. After this is settled, you will sign a treaty between our kingdoms, opening trade to both Galakin and Vareveth as you requested, but I require you to fight with me as I will join you. If there is rebellion in my kingdom after I retake the throne, I need the demon king and dragon queen to help quell it.”

I exchange a glance with Cayden, but it’s a fair deal. Seeking Zarius out to place him on the throne so we can secure an alliance with Thirwen will all be for naught if he can’t hold it. “Yesterday you said you didn’t want the throne. Why the sudden change?”

He rolls his lips, tilting his head to the side as he contemplates. “Perspective.”

I look to Ser Rhys standing stone-faced by his side and wonder how much sway he has over the prince. Whatever his influence, I’m grateful for it as I clasp my hands behind my back to avoid a handshake. “Very well.”

Strands of white hair brush against his sharp cheekbones as he nods and bows his head slightly to glance at the markings on my and Cayden’s skin.

“What is it?” I ask, and Cayden narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“I’ve never seen godly markings, only heard tales of them,” he says, stepping toward the spread to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“Tragedy follows the gods’ involvement in mortal lives.

News of your ability to wield dragonfire traveled over the Dolent, but I have to say I didn’t believe it until I saw the markings.

People don’t survive the ritual you performed. ”

“How do you know all of this?” Saskia asks.

He looks at her, but his impassive expression doesn’t change. “Just because I’m a discarded prince doesn’t mean I didn’t receive an education in my formative years.”

No matter how I feel about the gods, and how many unanswered prayers I muttered over the years, the markings at my wedding…the ritual…it must mean something. I don’t ponder their presence out of piety, but I’d be a fool to deny the shadow I’ve walked beneath since the eclipse.

The ship cuts through the sea, bypassing staggering mansions set on sprawling tropical estates as the island the castle is built on looms into view.

Crew members hustle around the deck to slow our pace as we glide beneath an extravagant golden archway made to look like two serpents shooting up from the sea and plunging their fangs into a burning sun between them.

The port is vast, and deep enough for vessels like ours to dock.

The shining rays spilling from the sky caress the white stone spires, and I blink, forcing my eyes to adjust. A mixture of blue, red, orange, and yellow domes top every tower, and all are connected by bridges, with waterfalls spilling down the steep hill and into the ocean.

Palm trees stand tall in the open spaces, as do several types of tropical flowers, their sweet scents carried by the wind.

My dragons fly onward, circling the various buildings that make up the structure, and a mixture of servants, ladies, and lords flock to the open spiral staircases within the turrets overlooking the bay to catch sight of them.

I smooth my hands down the dark blue chiffon that flows around me like midnight waves.

My back is bare aside from the thin draping chains that connect the fabric.

Two golden cuffs fashioned to look like two dragons flying toward the north star adorn my upper arms, and the dragon cuffs from Cayden hug my wrists.

A sapphire on the bodice sits between my breasts, just above a small triangular cutout, and matches the circlet gifted to me on my wedding day that rests across my forehead.

Cayden steps up beside me, sliding his steel into its sheath strapped across his back, offering me his arm.

He’s also wearing the same crown he did at our wedding, however I can’t blame him for not having the patience for finery beyond that in this heat.

His wavy hair is untamed as a result of the wind, and he wears another black linen shirt with matching loose pants tucked into his boots, but I think he looks like a dangerous dream.

“King Cayden and Queen Elowen Veles of Vareveth!” Ophir announces as we stride down the gangplank and meet a steward at the base of the promenade leading to the castle.

“Welcome to Galakin, Your Majesties,” the man says, wearing a red tunic embroidered with yellow and orange that complements his dark complexion and even darker hair.

His eyes linger on Prince Zarius, but he thankfully doesn’t say anything.

We thought it best to introduce him to the royals ourselves before his identity is confirmed to their court.

“I’m here to escort you to the royal family. ”

We begin our ascent of the hill lined with streams and flowers as the dragons fly overhead.

My thighs burn by the time we make it to the top, and my eyes are spared from the blinding sun when we pass through a parted set of orange curtains that leads to a room open to the air on all sides and filled with regal furniture and palms.

We’re led through curved halls decorated with painted tiles and across several bridges bordered by trees with butterflies and colorful birds flying around.

The sun warms my shoulders when we step onto a patio with a long rectangular pool filled with lotus flowers and lily pads that stretches in front of a pavilion framed with House Ilaria banners.

Servants back away from the royals when they note our presence, taking with them bowls of melon and trays of iced lemonade.

“May I present King Erix, Queen Cordelia, and Crown Prince Zale of House Ilaria,” their squire declares from his place beside the steps leading to the platform.

Queen Cordelia rakes her brown eyes over us as she sips her drink.

Her red gown covers the chaise she reclines on, and like all furniture within, it matches the House Ilaria colors.

“I thank you for making such a journey to attend our ball.” She rises from her perch and takes her husband’s arm to descend the steps and kiss both my cheeks.

My chest tightens, but I force myself not to stiffen.

“Thank you for inviting us, Your Majesty. I’ve always wanted to visit Galakin, though the tales I heard pale in comparison to its beauty.”

Her hands remain on my shoulders as she faces Cayden, her smile straining as King Erix reaches out to shake his hand, and says, “I believe congratulations are in order, for freeing the dragons, acquiring your crown, and your new bride.”

Cayden clasps Erix’s hand, though he doesn’t return the smile as Cordelia cuts in again, “Yes, my sister wrote to me about how beautiful the ceremony was. It was a shame we missed it.”

“With war approaching we believed it best to solidify our union as quickly as possible.”

“Of course,” Cordelia responds, her auburn curls draping down her back like spilled wine as she turns to gesture her son forward.

“We won’t keep you long—I’m sure you want to get settled after such a long journey—but may I present the crown prince.

” A man who looks to be around my age leans down to kiss my hand, causing my discomfort to heighten.

“The conqueror king,” Zale says, regarding Cayden. He is only a few inches taller than me, has the same eyes as his mother, and has curly hair like his father though it’s brown instead of gray.

“Prince,” Cayden responds. “There is also another in attendance.” He gestures behind us, and our newfound friend steps forward. “Prince Zarius Liluria of Thirwen.”

Erix lifts a brow and Cordelia’s hand tightens on his arm.

“I thought Prince Zarius died with his mother,” the king says.

Zarius gives a dry smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Cordelia’s eyes burn holes into Zarius, but she remains silent, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Erix nods slowly, regarding the prince like he doesn’t know what to make of him. “You stand with your father’s enemies willingly?”

“I owe my father nothing.” Zarius juts his chin in my direction. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“So it seems.” Cordelia’s lip curls before she masks her features. “We will discuss your presence in my kingdom later.”

Calithea flies above us, screeching as she perches on one of the tallest domes, keeping her silver eyes locked on me.

“I’ve always wanted to see a dragon.” Zale’s tone is filled with awe as he gazes up at her.

“Her name is Calithea.”

“Incredible.” He smiles. “If you’d like to see more of the castle I can take you on a walk through the gardens before dinner.”

We’re here for an alliance, I remind myself.

Cordelia loves her son, and I snubbed their informal marriage offer at the alliance ball.

There’s so much you can hide behind a smile, and I’m realizing that it might be my sharpest weapon when facing a court.

Not every battle can be fought with a blade; some require weaving the correct words together to form a web to trap your prey. “That would be lovely.”

Cordelia seems pleased as she gestures for a servant to lead us to our chambers.

Every room and corridor of the castle is bathed in warm tones and regal touches, and I look down at the river running below the bridge that leads to our rooms as the servant unlocks the door.

Similar to the rest of the structure, the windows don’t have glass, and sheer orange curtains flutter in the breeze.

The sitting area is circular, leading to a balcony overlooking the ocean, and our bedroom is behind gilded doors.

I spot Delmira swooping in the skies just in front of the balcony and I step through the opening to greet her. Seagulls squawk in the distance, and waves crash against the base of the tower.

“Hello, Delly.” I lean forward, dropping my arms to the banister, and watch as she flips and turns for me.

Her sky-blue wings should blend in with all the shades around us, but she stands out despite that.

Cayden presses a hip into the railing and tucks his hands into his pockets.

The dragons must sense him because in a blink four more are added to the show.

“You give them too many treats.”

He shrugs. “I needed to get into their good graces somehow.”

“No, you just love to spoil me and them by extension.”

“I make no apologies.”

“Mhmm.” I straighten up to face him because he clearly has something to tell me.

“I don’t like the way they look at you,” he says, but he doesn’t have to specify who.

“You don’t like the way anyone looks at me. I think you’d be happy to consider it a criminal offense.” He narrows his eyes but doesn’t deny it. “I didn’t like the way Cordelia looked at you either.”

“Why?”

“She stared at you as if you didn’t deserve to be here, to wear the crown, to stand beside me. You’re more deserving than any of them. You won your crown; theirs were given to them. I—”

“El.” He frames my face with his hands, running his thumbs over my cheekbones.

“I’m a bastard—which I don’t doubt they know—a criminal, and referred to as a demon.

I’m not unused to people glaring at me or being unnerved by my presence.

In fact, I prefer it because I don’t have to pretend to care about who they are or what they’re saying. ”

“I care,” I whisper, clearing my throat. “I care about how they treat you.”

He lifts my chin when I try to drop it, and my heart pounds so fiercely I’m sure he can feel it.

I don’t know why it makes me nervous to admit things like that.

I told him I loved him and yet it feels like I’m ripping myself open all over again, no matter how simple the confession.

Perhaps because my feelings have been weaponized against me throughout my life, I’ve never felt like they truly belong to me.

“What you think of me is the only opinion I care about,” he replies.

Be that as it may, I don’t want people looking down on him just because of where he comes from.

I lick my lips before pressing them to his quickly and step into his arms to watch my dragons.

He stiffens at first, but then he relaxes and tightens his embrace.

There’s not a single place in the world that’s ever felt more like home for me than his arms. I’ve been lost for so long, but when he looks at me, it’s like I’ve finally been found.