Chapter 3
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KATALENA
Prince Andaros came forward with a smile. He didn’t ask permission to climb the stairs and approach me, which was my own fault. If I hadn’t needed to fetch the ingredients from Taia, I would have been on time and had a shred more control over the interaction taking place.
He took my hand and gallantly kissed the back of it. “It is wonderful to finally meet you, Princess Katalena. The reports of your beauty were not exaggerated.”
I held in my sigh. “Thank you.”
His eyes flickered over my visible skin, noticing the absence of my wedding marks. “I’m sure you have much to attend to before tomorrow, so we won’t keep you. Forgive me, I very much wanted to meet my bride before we reached the altar.”
Somewhere I found a smile. I wasn’t sure how to respond, because if the truth were told, I hadn’t wanted to meet him. Could have pushed it off as long as possible. But here we were. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
Andaros smiled, but something simmered in his eyes. “Your father has indulged my whims long enough, I think. I too have things to prepare.” Then he smiled wider, speaking more to the rest of the room than to me. “I wouldn’t want to keep my bride up late. I want her well rested.”
My cheeks heated at the chuckles rolling through the room. I knew exactly why he wanted me rested, despite my father’s and the rest of the court’s efforts to hide it from me or obscure reality. It was the reason I’d gone to Taia in desperation.
I bowed again. “Then I shall not keep you, my lord.”
The way he bowed before me, so deep he was nearly bent in half, sent more whispers running through the room before Andaros strode for the exit, his father and retinue in tow.
The doors to the throne room closed behind them with an echoing boom.
Pressing my lips together, I turned to face my father, who silently seethed even as he addressed the court. “We look forward to the festivities tomorrow. Court is dismissed.”
The volume rose in the room, courtiers chatting as they departed. My father summoned me closer with a subtle shift of his finger. “I don’t know what you were doing today, nor do I care.”
“I was?—”
“Do not lie again. I know you were not in the garden. Whatever thing you told yourself was more important than this, it is your last act of defiance, understood? King Edwan was nearly beside himself. You are lucky this little introduction went as well as it did.”
I said nothing. It didn’t matter, because he wouldn’t listen anyway.
“You will not be late tomorrow, Katalena. Do I need to send guards to monitor you in your chamber?”
“No, Father.”
He stared me down, assessing if I was telling the truth or not. I was. Despite my dread, I knew there was no way to avoid tomorrow, and I would not be late. The only thing he was wrong about was today being my last act of defiance. I would do what I could, no matter where I lived and no matter whose bed I slept in.
Finally, he nodded once. “Then get on with it. See to your preparations. And make no mistake, there will be guards to escort you at the proper time. You will be there.”
“Yes, Father.”
Silence hung between us, and in these rare moments, I sometimes imagined he wanted to say more to me. It felt like he wanted to say something more. Possibly something more fatherly and closer to the man he’d been when I was a child and my mother was still alive.
But he said nothing, instead looking away in dismissal. I took that as my cue and returned through the door I entered, relieved I wouldn’t be stuck in the throne room for hours entertaining the Craisos delegation.
My guards fell in with me, only to be stopped by a word. “Princess.”
Prince Andaros leaned against the wall in the dim hall, arms crossed, looking at me far more openly than he had in the throne room.
“Prince.”
“I wished to speak to you without the audience.” He looked pointedly at the guards at my side.
I allowed a faint smile. “I do believe it would be improper to speak to you alone before our wedding, Your Highness.”
He smirked. “Then the guards may wait at the end of the hall, so our conversation will still be private.”
His tone unsettled me, but I had no good reason to refuse. I glanced to the side and inclined my head. The guards retreated and Andaros advanced. Here, his gait was different. Smoother and easier. Confident in a stronger way.
With his head tilted to the side, he assessed me, glancing to see that the guards were far enough away for his liking. “The reports of your beauty were not exaggerated,” he said again. “But it seems the reports of your spirited temperament were. I expected more…” he shrugged, “fire.”
I lifted my chin. “Given who you are and what you are known for, I did not think fire something you would want in a wife or woman.”
He laughed softly. “I knew it wouldn’t take much for it to appear. And despite my reputation for dousing flames, life would be rather cold without any fire at all, don’t you think?”
“There are other ways to keep warm.”
“Are you interested in those ways?” The grin on his face told me what he meant.
Huffing a breath, I crossed my arms, showing him the barest amount of disrespect. “I spoke of blankets, my lord. Or the sun. Not carnal pursuits.”
Andaros truly smiled then. “Perhaps my purpose here wasn’t entirely in vain.”
“I am unsure what you mean.”
“I mean that Craisos does not hold to the same… traditions that Gleira does. We do not hold that a woman must be entirely pure when she comes to the altar, provided it is with her intended. I do not care if it is me you’ve shed your purity with. As long as it is no one else.”
He meant?—
Fucking stars. No.
“You spoke truly in the throne room, Prince Andaros.”
“Call me Daros. Most people do. My wife should as well.”
Slick, cold dread slid down my spine. “You spoke truly, Daros. I have much to attend to this evening, as do you. And while Craisos does not hold to those traditions, I do not belong to Craisos.”
“Yet.” He was right, but I wasn’t going to agree with him. Taking one step closer to me, I took a step back. “I’ll make sure you enjoy it, Princess.”
I slid my hand into the pocket of my gown and retrieved the dagger at my thigh. The next step he took had the blade pressing against his throat. “The other thing we hold to in Gleira is a woman’s right to say no. No matter who it is.”
“Hmm.” Anger sparked in his gaze. “Seems we have much to learn about the other’s culture. Once we reach Craisos, you will not have that right. You will be my wife. In every way.”
It wasn’t like I didn’t know, but the way he said it now made me shudder. “Do you think that surprises me, Prince? You are known for your violence. Not once did I think you wouldn’t turn that violence on me.”
“Hence the knife?”
“Hence the knife.”
“You will not be allowed weapons when you are my wife.”
All I did was smile. Weapons were a convenience, but I didn’t need them. I might not be as strong as the men who surrounded me, but I knew enough. “Since I am not your wife yet, I will bid you goodnight, Daros.”
He lifted his hands, taking a step back from me. The anger in his gaze gave way to smug victory. “This is going to be so much fun, Princess.”
I very much doubted that.
It wasn’t until he’d disappeared out of the hallway that I turned and made my way back to my rooms. The guards had turned their backs—no wonder they hadn’t come to my aid when I drew my knife. Yet another example of the failure of palace security.
Then again, Prince Andaros was a hero here. In these halls, no one would consider that he might be a danger to me. To anyone.
Neither guard spoke as they followed me back to my chambers, and I managed to hide the shaking. Adrenaline pulsed in my veins, and the relief he hadn’t tried further made the sweat on my skin cold.
Helena looked up from her seat when I came in, where she mixed the shining gold ink for marking my skin. She noted my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Prince Andaros thought he would bed me tonight. The threat of my blade was the thing that held him off.”
Her mouth fell open, but I didn’t stay to see. I strode straight into my workshop and pulled on gloves. The potion still had to brew, and I would set it to work while Helena painted me. The jar on the table moved a little.
“Helena,” I said. “I need to tell you something.”
“What a glorious ass you’re intended is?”
I laughed once. “Sadly, no. But before I tell you, I must swear you to utter secrecy. On the Fallen.”
“What?” Her eyebrows rose. “I’m sworn to you, Lena. You know that. I cannot betray you.”
When I came of age, she swore her vows to me. Vows on her life that she would never betray me, in the same way her grandmother had served mine, until death, and beyond if necessary. There was no way to make an unbreakable vow, but to her, breaking them was unthinkable.
“Still, please.”
“I swear on the Fallen I will not speak of what you tell me.”
I nodded. “Put down the ink as well. I don’t want to startle you.”
She obeyed, but now she looked more curious than afraid. Pulling the jar across the table, I lifted the lid. “All right, you can come out now.”
When the dragon climbed out onto my hand, he was no longer the color he’d been when he went in. He was a silvery shade of blue, like a lake limned in moonlight. I’d never heard of a dragon who could shift its color before. But perhaps it was merely a young dragon whose scales hadn’t settled yet? I didn’t know.
Helena gasped. “By all the stars. Where did you get that?”
“I found him in an alley while hiding from some guards in the city. It didn’t feel right to leave him behind. Not when most others would snap his neck on sight.”
The small dragon crept up my arm and pressed his head gently against my shoulder, like he was thanking me for rescuing him.
“I understand why you asked for the vow, though you know I wouldn’t have said anything.”
“I know.” Reaching out, I scratched the top of his head with a finger. “I don’t know what to do with him. Do you know anyone who might smuggle him out of the city?”
She shook her head. “No one who would be able to retrieve him in time.”
In three days we would leave with the Craisos delegation to travel to our new home. “See if you can think of something. Until then, he’ll stay here.” I gave the dragon a careful look. “But if anyone else comes in, you must stay hidden.”
He bumped my arm with his head again.
“Good.”
I set him on the table and moved to the ingredients Taia had given me. The potion was already resting in a pot near the fire, and I moved it closer on the hook so it would boil.
“The other thing you must keep secret is what I make here tonight. Why I had to make the trip to see Taia and Baris. There were ingredients I needed that I could not get elsewhere.”
“Is this different from your other creations?”
Every other day I had some new potion or experimentation. Helena was used to it. Despite my fascination with the science and craft, I had yet to delve into the potential magics of ingredients and all the possibilities. I hoped to one day.
“It is,” I said. “This one is a known recipe. A very old one, and it cannot be undone.”
Unfolding the packet of fade flower, I carefully sprinkled the petals into the warming liquid. Then the Thymde Sariette, and finally, the Sikala. They disappeared into the black mixture, only the petals still visible.
“Lena, please don’t tell me you are choosing to end your life.”
“No,” I said quickly. “No, it’s not that. But this…” taking a breath, I met her gaze. “This will render me unable to conceive.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath.
Children were never something I felt strongly about, one way or another. But given the monster I was about to marry, I would not give this world a union of his blood and mine. I would not create a new generation of monsters to hunt creatures who merely wanted the freedom to exist.
“You can’t mean that.”
“I do. I will not bear him children. Being owned by him is enough. We do what we can, and I refuse to create a life he will poison and turn into an abomination.”
Slowly, Helena nodded. “Will they know?”
“Some women are barren. I’ve never been bedded. There is no reason for them to suspect anything other than a misfortune of my own body. They will never know.”
She hesitated and stopped. It was clear she wanted to speak, but was afraid. “Say what you want to say.”
Still, Helena hesitated a moment more. “Do you think your grandmother would approve?”
Sour grief filled my chest. The dragon peered over my shoulder, sniffing at the brew before making a sound of disgust and backing away, sitting with his tail curled around the coin he loved so much.
“I think my grandmother would have rather given my mother, and therefore me, to the stars at birth than ever give us life. It has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with knowing how this world works.”
We do what we can, Lena. What we can however we can. It is the only thing that makes a difference. You must not stop. You cannot let the truth die.
“Yes. I think she would approve.”
I left the potion to bubble and returned to her. There was no more to say.
Helena helped me undress down to my shift, and I sat, still as death, as she painted the traditional designs on my neck, shoulders, and arms. These weren’t blue, but gold. I might be wearing blue in honor of Craisos, but gold was the color of weddings in Gleira.
“You will look beautiful,” Helena said. “No matter what happens.”
“Thank you.”
On my workshop table, the dragon curled around his coin and watched us. Despite my knowledge of dragons, I’d never been this close to one. Only to the draygs, which I knew were not the same. Draygs had none of the intelligence of dragons, their breeding ensuring they were the malleable creatures people wanted them to be.
This creature wasn’t that.
“Do you have a name?” I asked.
Helena glanced up. “Can he speak?”
“I don’t think so, but he clearly understands us to some extent.”
The small dragon tilted his head and then looked around the room. As I watched, he shifted from the shining silver blue to a pleasant, soft green. Mossy and subtle. With the gold coin in his mouth he hopped off the table and trotted across the floor, stopped, and looked at me.
“I don’t understand.”
One tap of his claws on the floor. But there was nothing there. I shook my head again.
He huffed, a small puff of steam coming out of his nostrils. Helena and I shared a smile as he took off running, this time closer to me. Again on the floor, just behind where I sat. He tapped the ground.
Stepped one foot to the side, waited, then stepped back to that spot and tapped the ground. The only difference was… “Shadow?”
In the place where he’d paused, the light of the workshop fire lit him up. Where he sat now was hidden in my shadow. The place where he’d first gone was the shadow of a chair.
He tilted his head, like it was close, but not quite there.
“Varí,” Helena spoke softly.
The dragon’s eyes went wide, and he spun in a little circle before rushing over to brush himself against her leg through her dress.
“You speak the ancient language?”
“Not well.” She reached down and ran her hands along Varí’s scales. “I’ve lost much of it, but I still remember some. Seems like he does too.”
“Varí,” I said, and he came to me, nuzzling my hand before he retrieved his coin. A one-coin hoard. Portable and precious. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You’re finished,” Helena said. “And it should be dry.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you need anything else?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She left with little fanfare. We spent most of our days together, so a goodnight was not a grand affair. But I did notice her look back once, because neither of us had forgotten the potion now boiling by the fire.
It had turned glossy, with a sheen like rainbows on the surface. Which meant it was complete. The pot was hot—too hot—but I barely felt it as I moved I moved it to the table and filled the bottles I’d prepared.
There was a parcel already addressed to Taia prepared. I would send all the excess to her. I was hardly the only woman who needed such a thing.
Taking the only bottle left, I banked the fire and folded myself into bed before closing my eyes and downing the whole thing in one go. It tasted awful. Bitter and oily. I already knew it was correct as heat followed the fluid down. I had no idea if it would be painful, but by morning I would be safe.
Varíleapt onto the bed and curled against my side, purring softly. I pulled the blankets up around us both. In the morning I would be safe, and I would keep him safe as well.