2. Aries
Aries
“H a! Your Highness, you’ll have to be faster on your feet!” Metal meets metal when my sword clashes with Leo’s. Sweat beading on my brow, it takes a good portion of my strength to remain on my feet.
Of course, I’ll never admit that. Despite the strain, I grin, happier than I’ve felt in months.
“If I were any faster, my victory would be far too easy to obtain.” I whip my blade back then spin and kick his legs out from beneath him.
In the blink of an eye, I’m back on my feet, the dull edge of my training blade pressed against his throat.
“And don’t call me Your Highness, Your Highness. ”
Leo’s cheeks are flushed as he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the soft dirt of our training ring. A ring I don’t visit nearly as often lately.
Reaching down, I offer him my hand, and he takes it. Once my brother is on his feet, he brushes off his riding pants and shakes his head. “You kick my ass every single time, and yet I never seem to learn from it.”
I chuckle. “The day I cease kicking your ass is the day I’m being buried next to our father.” The dark humor is my only way of coping these days. I should have had a few more years at least. Years to find my mate and make my own mark before being forced to take on an entire kingdom.
And yet, here I am. Trapped in the midst of a nightmare.
He clasps my shoulder. My only sibling, Leo is my height, though where I have filled out with muscle, he is far more slender. He claims he’s built for speed whereas I am the brawn.
His bright blue eyes light up as he grins at me. “Let us hope that day is far from today, big brother.”
“Yes, of course. Can’t have you forgoing your trip around the world to step up and take my place on the throne.”
Leo visibly shivers. “Being king is quite literally my worst nightmare.”
I don’t bother mentioning that, unlike Leo, it’s the one thing I’ve lived and breathed for all my life, only because he already knows it. Just as he knows how miserable I’ve been ever since our father died. We’ve both grieved for the man who was more than just a king.
But even before his body had been placed into the ground, the expectations and responsibilities of a future king fell squarely on my shoulders, and my lack of a mate went from subtle disappointment to political nightmare.
Without my mate, I am trapped in this hell, unable to fully take the crown until I’ve found her yet too bogged down by the needs and wants of my constituents to actually go out and look.
Royal purgatory. That is precisely where I will remain until I am able to take my bride.
“You headed inside?” Leo asks, pulling me out of my brooding.
I shake my head and take a swig of my water. The leather is smooth beneath my fingertips as I offer it to my brother. “Going to take to the skies for a while. I need to check the southern borders.”
Leo returns my water and grins. “Hiding from Mother?”
“She will not rest until she has found my mate,” I tell him with a groan. “And I'm truly beginning to believe it’s an impossible venture. She’s paraded nearly every eligible maiden in front of me. Weeks of entertaining women I feel absolutely nothing for.”
“Your fate is truly horrible,” Leo replies, feigning misery by pressing a hand to his heart. “A parade of beautiful women. Sounds positively dreadful.”
I glare at my brother. “You go ahead and laugh it up, brother. As soon as she finds my mate, you’ll be next.”
Leo pales slightly. “Parades of women, I can handle. Our own mother doing the choosing, not so much.”
“Aries!”
I stiffen. So much for taking to the skies. Turning, I face my mother, the queen, as she comes to a stop beside the edge of the ring. Her dark hair has been braided to the side, the emerald gown she’s wearing pristine. The woman never looks disheveled.
Truly, as far back as I can remember, Dorthea Nemos has never had a hair out of place.
As she’s told us on many occasions, the Queen of Astronia is expected to be the picture of grace and control. Two qualities she has assured me my future wife will possess. Which is yet another reason finding my mate seems so far-fetched.
I love my mother, but the idea of marrying someone like her is honestly even less appealing than being drenched in troll blood and dropped into a sulfur pit.
Still, it’s not seeing her show up here that has me truly annoyed.
It’s the woman walking beside her. Dressed in a gown the color of spring tulips, her red hair is piled high upon her head and adorned with tiny white flowers.
Her face has been painted to the point of pageantry despite the fact that we’re hardly at a formal event.
She smiles widely at us, her eyes bright—and assessing. It’s that assessment in her gaze that sparks my annoyance. I’ve seen it a hundred times before. Like she’s trying to decide whether her name or mine should go first on the wedding invitation.
“Morning, mother.” Leo steps forward first and kisses her noisily on the cheek.
“You missed your appointment.” My mother’s tone is scalding, her gaze firmly on me.
I know exactly what appointment she means, too.
A blind date with the woman before me. It had sounded, honestly, worse than the war brewing should I fail to take a mate.
So, I came here instead. Though, based on the woman’s obvious interest in my brother, she doesn’t seem to mind my offense.
“I’m sure Aries had a good reason,” the woman coos as she reaches out and brushes dirt off of my brother’s arm. “Combat training is such an important part of being king.”
My mother winces.
Leo, however, grins back at me. “You have the wrong brother, love,” he says then steps aside and gestures to me.
The woman’s cheeks flush crimson. “Of course, I was merely cleaning the dirt from your tunic.”
“Of course you were.” Leo winks then turns to me. “I’m off to train the next generation of Astronia fighters.” As soon as he’s behind our mother, though, he wiggles his brows at me.
The bastard.
“Very good, darling, see you at dinner,” she tells him. And then with her full attention aimed at me, she asks, “Were you planning on showing up at all?”
The fact that she’s willing to ask me this in front of a stranger shows just how angry she is.
“My apologies. I’d planned to be there, and then something came up. A security issue reported early this morning,” I admit. “I wanted to fly over and check the southern border. Ensure that the horde remains at bay.”
“You have a duty—”
“It’s quite all right, Your Majesty,” the woman interjects. My mother’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t correct her for her interruption.
Honestly, if I weren’t more than happy to miss the ass-chewing, I might have been offended on my mother’s behalf. No one interrupts a queen, or if they do, they haven’t met my mother.
“May I have a few moments with Aries?” the woman boldly asks.
“Of course,” my mother bows her head graciously then leaves me alone with the woman. So she got her way after all.
“Your Highness,” she begins, bowing. When she straightens again, the assessing gleam from earlier is replaced by a coy smile. She inches closer. “My name is Esma Oleander.”
“Lovely to meet you, but I really must—”
“It is truly not a problem that you missed our appointment. In fact, now we have the perfect moment alone to get to know one another better.”
I don’t bother to hide my grimace.
Interrupting my mother is bad enough, but the woman seems hell-bent on not allowing me to speak either.
She loops an arm through mine and guides me toward the gardens.
“I know how tiring your responsibilities are, and I, for one, am more than grateful you are training with your blade. Proficiency is far more important than punctuality if you ask me.”
I hadn’t, but she continues anyway, “What you need is a wife who can help balance your responsibilities. Someone who will be punctual on your behalf so you may tend to—well—the more physically challenging tasks.” She stops walking and faces me, not bothering to hide the innuendo in her words.
Surrounded by bright blooms, the woman looks as though she might simply blend into the topiary around us. She’s beautiful, there is no question about that. High cheekbones, an angled face, bright eyes—but standing here in her presence, I am lacking the one thing I am desperate for: connection.
“My grandfather’s mother was royalty,” she explains. “So, our children will have that on my side as well. Three, I think, is a good number for a royal offspring.” She grins at me, eyes sparking with interest. “Unless, of course, you’d be interested in more.”
“I appreciate your interest, Madame Oleander, but you are not my mate.”
She waves her hand as though dismissing me.
“Let’s be frank with one another, especially if we are to be married.
” Her assumptions know no limits, I see.
“You and I both know your mother is little more than a figurehead.” I stiffen at that, but she presses on.
“The horde will not wait much longer before they storm our borders. You need a wife to secure your place on the throne and to stave off this war. Not to mention heirs. And with my royal heritage and shifter blood, our union will be more than enough.”
“I need a fated mate to ensure the dragon line continues,” I remind her.
“Perhaps not,” she replies with an unconcerned lift of her shoulder. “My kind can fly as well.”
“And what kind is that?” I can sense that she’s a bird of some kind, though she’s not meek enough to be a sparrow shifter, nor is she fierce enough to be a peacock.
“Flamingo,” she tells me as she straightens. “Could you not tell?”
Fucking flamingos. Her bravado makes sense now.
Her kind love to flaunt themselves and see no harm in doing so even when that flaunting is done by insulting others.
“Of course, it makes sense now,” I reply with a tight smile.
“I truly apologize, Madame Oleander. You seem like a kind woman, but you are not my mate, and I am unwilling to settle for less.”
Her expression cools, and if her forwardness weren’t bad enough, in this moment, her pouting reminds me a bit of my mother. “You would risk war for your petty heart?”
My smile turns razor-sharp. “My heart is not your concern. And you’d do well to watch your tone with your future king.”
Her gaze narrows, and she points a finger at me. “You are going to be the destruction of this kingdom,” she accuses. “All because you cling to some foolish notion that dragons must prevail. Your mother is not a dragon. She is a fae, is she not?”
“She is, but she was my father’s true mate.” I keep my voice calm, my tone steady, even as the beast inside of me surges to the surface as a direct result to my anger.
“Your brother can continue the line. Your job is to take a queen so she may help protect these lands from the hoard.”
“You are vastly overstepping, Madame Oleander,” I warn. “And should you continue, I will have you escorted from these grounds. What might your family think then, I wonder?”
She growls—actually growls at me. It’s almost impressive really. Especially for a flamingo. “You cannot—”
“Good day,” I interrupt then turn on my heel and march out of the gardens. My mother is waiting just outside, inspecting some roses and pretending to have not been eavesdropping.
“Please see to it that Miss Oleander gets home safely,” I tell my mother, who, to my surprise, smiles knowingly.
“Of course, son.”
“I’m off to check the borders.” Without waiting for her to argue, I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “I promise, I will find the one I am destined for.”
In a rare show of emotion, my mother sniffles. “I only want what’s best for you.”
“I know you do.” I smile then leave her behind and let my beast free. The moment I’m clear of the arena, my dragon bursts from me, obsidian scales covering my flesh as I grow larger than any other shifter in existence, and two massive, leathery wings spread out on either side of my body.
I shake, the beast within beyond thrilled to be free of the confines of my mortal form. Turning to my mother, I drop my head and snort, my way of letting her know I will be home soon.
Beside her, Miss Oleander stares at me in awe, her eyes so wide they’re nearly completely white. Unable to help myself, I shake my head at her then push up from the ground and take to the sky.
Wind whips at my scales, a welcome chill that thrills me beyond measure. Before I’d been bogged down by responsibilities, I’d fly just like this each morning.
Now, I’m lucky to break away twice a week. Since the moment my father left this world for the next, my every waking moment has been packed full of new responsibilities.
Until I find my mate, the throne eludes me.
And Esma was right about one thing. My mother is simply a figurehead at this point.
Our kingdom doesn’t recognize a single ruler; only mated pairs.
It’s a tradition that has existed for centuries because it spreads power rather than consolidating it to one single ruler.
The hoards don’t care about that so much as exploiting a weakness.
My mother’s precarious position as a lone queen is all that stands in the way of an all-out invasion.
It was dragons who’d sent the horde running from these lands centuries ago, and without a dragon on the throne, we’re mere moments from total catastrophe.
Swooping low, I fly over our traps, checking to ensure they are empty.
I hadn’t lied about the disturbing security reports.
According to our scouts, there’s been zero movement detected in a region where the attacks used to come weekly.
The horde has been uncharacteristically quiet as of late, something that makes me even more uneasy with each passing day.
Our borders are at least three days’ ride from the castle grounds, but up here, with massive wings propelling me, the trip takes barely more than a couple of hours.
Gliding over rocky mountains tipped with snow, I drop down beside a waterfall.
Droplets of spray from the falls coat my scales as my talons dig into the soft dirt.
I shift back into human form, using this time alone to get my head right. Choosing a mate is more than a desire; it’s my royal responsibility.
I just haven’t been lucky enough to find her. Yet.
I dive into the water, the coolness enveloping me. Swimming to the bottom, I hold my breath and allow the quiet to calm my racing mind. One day, I will find her. One day, I will be the king my people deserve.