Page 74 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Fifty-four

Cayden

If there’s one lesson I’ve learned, it’s never to trust anything or anyone.

A person can make empty promises sound as good as gold before you realize their pockets are as empty as their words.

A prince isn’t a king, and Zale can preach about the future he wants, but he’s never had to fight to see his next day.

He’s hopeful because he’s never had to face the cruelty of the world without a safety net.

I tug on my watch chain to check the time before replacing it in my hand with the grappling hook looped on to my belt. The curved metal wooshes through the air as I swing it in wide circles, keeping my eyes on the guards monitoring the ramparts above from the dense palms surrounding me.

I count the seconds down in my head before a rumble shakes the ground, and a shrill bell clangs through the air. “Fire! Bring water! Fire!”

The guards patrolling above rush around the tower to get a look at what’s happening.

Tragedy calls to humans like flies to honey.

People love to watch the demise of others because for that brief moment, the universe’s spiteful nature is reared at someone else.

They can relax because they know for the duration that fate bites the jugular of another, its claws won’t sink into them.

The grappling hook sails through the air before it latches on to the banister, the sound drowned out by the bells and flowing river that runs beneath the bridge.

Yanking on it a few times before determining it’ll hold, I press my boot along the castle wall, using the shade the bridge provides to my advantage, and pull myself up.

Sweat beads on my forehead and slides down my spine, but I keep my pace quick.

I’d rather not kill guards in a kingdom I’m trying to forge an alliance with, but if they cause a commotion, I’ll find a way to shut their mouths and make them disappear.

It’s just another task that I don’t need added to my list, and though I wear all black, blood is always a bitch to get out from under your nails.

I swing my leg over the side and crouch behind the ledge as I wind the rope and attach it to my belt again.

If I walked up to the front gates, I’m sure I would’ve been let inside—I’m a visiting king, after all—but I’d probably have to wait for Cordelia to return from greeting the Feynadra ship that docked in the harbor.

I can keep my temper in check when she insults me, but Elowen is a hard line that I don’t let people cross.

I hustle across the stone bridge and through the parted curtains that lead to the royal wing.

The castle guards aren’t as vigilant as the royals believe them to be.

I’ve been spying on their property since I left Elowen at the beach.

I never made my presence known to avoid her inevitable questions and only followed her to ensure Zale hadn’t planned an ambush.

I didn’t leave until I saw her hold a flame in her cupped hands.

I knew she’d learn; she’s already proven herself capable after wielding dragonfire, but I look forward to the day I’m able to watch her incinerate our enemies.

The curved tile-lined halls act as a sound tunnel for the crashing waves and gulls that fly above them.

Nautical-themed paintings adorn the walls in elaborate gold frames, and hissing sea serpents line the halls like pillars.

Two guards round the corner, and I dip into an alcove hewn into the wall between two serpents, containing only a tall potted palm.

I call on the shadows dancing along the wall as the plant sways in the ocean breeze, but I feel nothing. There’s no connection.

The guards pass and I pull out the sleeping powder Elowen and I used at Kallistar Prison, not giving the soldiers stationed in front of the king’s study time to realize what’s happening before I blow the dust into their faces.

The magic seizes them immediately, and I step back as they fall haphazardly at my feet.

Without knocking, I shove the door open and stride into the study.

The worth of an idea is determined only by the outcome, so time will tell if this was all for naught.

Erix abruptly stands from behind his desk, and quickly overturns paper spread across the surface.

It’s set in front of a semicircle of arched windows with gently wafting gauzy red curtains, and the ceiling is a mosaic of a sunset.

The study resembles the rest of the castle, accented with shades of their house colors—red, orange, and yellow—with regal and oceanic detailing expressed through the carved wood molding and fabrics in the sitting area.

“King Cayden,” he says. “I wasn’t aware we had a meeting.”

“It wasn’t scheduled,” I respond, gesturing to the whiskey on a high rounded table, relieved to see the familiar amber alcohol in this rum-plagued kingdom. “But I believe we have much to discuss so I took it upon myself to find you.”

“So in other words, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m not supposed to be in a lot of places.

” I pour myself two fingers of whiskey. “And yet I find those are the most beneficial places to be.” His eyes dart toward the closed door.

“Call for your guards if you wish, but it’ll take them awhile to respond.

” He moves to step around his desk, but I pin him with my gaze.

“Sit down, Erix. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done so already. ”

“You are a horrible diplomat,” he mutters, dropping into his seat again as I claim the one across from him. “And yet I find myself not entirely loathing you.”

“Your kindness is enviable.” I drop my elbow to the arm of the chair, the ice in my glass clinking as I swirl it slowly. “I assume you know your son hosted a meeting this morning?”

“Indeed.” He mirrors my position, relaxing in his chair while placing a smoke between his lips and lighting it by summoning a flame from the lantern along the wall. “And I’m assuming you’re here to solidify whatever my son promised you?”

“One thousand ships to me, trade between our kingdoms, and both he and Zarius agreed to pull their ships back from where they clash in the Dolent Sea.”

The wood of Erix’s chair strains under his grip before he slackens it. “Can you trust Prince Zarius? How am I supposed to know for sure that he’ll pull his navy back from clashing with mine?”

“I don’t trust Zarius, and neither should you.” I take a sip of the whiskey. “But I know he wants to be king and that he’ll do whatever he needs to get us on his side. As for a trade agreement, I’d sign one right now if you presented it to me.”

Erix drums his fingers along the desk, letting his eyes drift to the sea that sprawls to the horizon. “And if I disagree?”

“Despite Cordelia’s words at dinner, Elowen will always hold Galakin in a higher regard than other kingdoms because you presented her with her dragon eggs.

” I trail my tongue over my lips, taking time to mold my next statement.

“However, your wife’s hatred for bastards makes me believe you have a few hiding within the kingdom, and well…

if a bastard with the blood of commoners can take the throne, imagine what a royal could do if given the right opportunity. ”

Erix’s nostrils flare and his eyes narrow on me. “You have no idea what you’re speaking of. I could have your tongue for that.”

“You’d be dead before you rose from your chair.” I take another sip, placing a boot over my knee as I lean back. “I don’t care where your cock has been. The only reason I’m here is to ensure my wife has the highest chance of survival in the battles to come.”

I can take on their armies, but it’s Elowen who will face the navy while on dragonback. Galakin can aid her efforts in ways I can’t while fighting on land. After almost losing her in the last battle, I need to take every precaution to ensure that never comes to pass.

“And do you intend to achieve that by threatening me?”

“I mean to achieve that by whatever means possible, and always remember that no threat of mine is empty when it comes to her,” I state. “My loyalty is not to a crown or a kingdom; it will always be to my wife.”

Erix takes a deep drag of his smoke, looking to the sea again as he blows it out.

“Though I don’t agree with your methods, I respect you as a man.

” I remain silent, not really caring about what he thinks of me.

All I want are his ships. “Love has always had a way of bleeding duty dry. As king your duty is to your kingdom, even at the expense of those you love. The crown on your head must always come before the ring on your finger.”

“You were born into a role I claimed with my sword, and considering you have bastards, I don’t regard any of your advice on how to conduct myself as a husband highly.”

His nostrils flare. “I never admitted to that. I love my wife.”

“You didn’t have to, and I don’t care.”

Erix knows he’d be a fool to make an enemy of me.

With Elowen claiming the Imirath throne, our kingdom along with the southern isles will become the largest kingdom in Ravaryn.

Not only that, but its queen is bonded to five dragons, and the flame-wielders of Galakin can’t wield dragonfire if Elowen’s revenge finds them next.

“A treaty must be drawn up,” he says. “But I will aid your naval force only with the guarantee that trade will be established and Thirwen’s ships will be pulled back from where they skirmish with mine.”

I finish off the whiskey and place the empty crystal on the edge of his desk. “A pleasure doing business with you, Erix.”

I yank open the doors to the study and step over the still-sleeping guards. They’re in Erix’s command so he can deal with them however he sees fit.

“Your Majesty!” someone calls out behind me, but I keep walking, eager to get out of this castle. “Your Majesty!”

I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, a servant has her eyes on me. She pauses for a moment to catch her breath when she’s close. “I only wanted to ask if you’re lost. I know the towers can be confusing.”

“I was just on my way out.”

“But the queen has just arrived,” she says.

“Queen Cordelia is busy with her sister, and I suggest keeping her occupied until I’m gone.”

“No, sire. Your queen. Her majesty has arrived with Prince Zale and Commander Finnian.”