Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Torchlight burns in the main entrance hall, right inside the closed doors that lead into the Golden Palace.
I watch the light dance over the pale walls, which makes them shimmer like gold.
I have no idea what this room looked like before the dragon shifters conquered our court, but now, there are no decorations in here.
No royal carpets. No furniture. Nothing.
It surprises me since most of the castle remains unspoiled, but I think the Icehearts might have deliberately stripped this first room bare as a cruel reminder that this beautiful castle is now a deserted relic.
I flick another glance at the closed doors.
My heart beats nervously in my chest. We have four contingency plans, but I still can’t entirely suppress the worry that ripples inside me.
Out of all the clan leaders, I know Gremar the most since he and his clan have been responsible for maintaining order in our court all my life.
He is ruthless, prideful, and he hates fae with every fiber of his being.
Which really doesn’t bode well for this conversation.
The doors are yanked open.
“It’s the bloody middle of the night,” Gremar Fireclaw growls as he stalks into the room. “What’s so important that you couldn’t—”
He jerks to a halt as he finds Draven standing there in the middle of the gold-glimmering entrance hall.
The torches cast flickering light over Gremar’s brown hair and red dragon scale armor as he just stands there for a moment.
Behind him, the doors that he so violently yanked open swing shut again with a thud.
The sound seems to snap him out of his surprise. His expression darkens, and he begins summoning his lava magic.
Draven lets out a huff of amusement. “I really wouldn’t, if I were you.”
With his gaze still locked on Gremar, he nods in our direction. Gremar casts a quick glance around the room.
By the left wall, Isera and I summon our magic while Alistair and Orion do the same on the opposite side of the room. Orion and I don’t do anything with ours, for now, but Isera and Alistair let their ice and fire magic crackle along their arms.
A hint of genuine surprise pulses across Gremar’s face before he manages to hide it. Indignant rage roars up in his eyes instead as he glares at us for another few seconds before shifting his furious stare back to Draven. However, he does the smart thing and lets his lava magic fade out.
“Oh, you really have sunk low, haven’t you?” Gremar says, shaking his head at Draven in disapproval. “Consorting with the fae.” He practically spits out the final word. “Have you no pride left?”
“Says the guy who is forced to make parts of his clan live with the fae,” Draven replies, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Have you no pride left, Gremar?”
Anger flashes in his brown eyes. “My clan doesn’t live with them. We rule over them.”
“Bane and Jessina rule over them. Not you. And they rule over you as well. Which is why you’re forced to spend so much time here in the Seelie Court even though you hate it.”
He opens his mouth to retort, but since Draven is right, he apparently can’t figure out how to refute that statement, so he just closes his mouth and grinds his teeth instead.
Draven lets out a long breath, and the vicious cruelty bleeds away from his features. Instead, he meets Gremar’s frustrated stare with serious eyes. “Your clan shouldn’t be ruled by a different clan. And neither should mine. Or any of the other clans. You know that.”
“You talk of treason.”
“Yes.”
“The Iceheart Dynasty has dominated this continent for millennia. It’s the natural order.”
“Natural order? Just because our society is structured like this now doesn’t mean that this is the way it should be structured. Just because we were born into the time and age that we were, we think that this is the normal way to live. But what’s normal isn’t always right.”
“And what do you want to do instead?” Gremar shoots a look full of disgust at the four fae around him. “Trust the fae? They enslaved us! They used dragon steel to control our minds so that we had no free will. Have you forgotten that?”
“They’re not the ones with a boot to your throat now.” Draven gives him a pointed look. “In fact, they are the ones who will help us all overthrow Bane and Jessina and take back authority over our own clans.”
“Overthrow the Icehearts?” He lets out a scoff of utter disbelief.
“Have you lost your mind? It’s because we are united that we are strong.
Without a united force of dragon clans, without the Dread Legion, the Seelie Court would try to rebel and the dryads would try to take over the woods again and the Unseelie Court would be attacking us instead of cowering behind their wards like whipped dogs. ”
Searing rage flashes across Orion’s face, and I think it’s by sheer force of will that the Unseelie King doesn’t start torturing Gremar right then and there.
“We’re not meant to be a monolith!” Draven snaps, frustration lacing his voice.
“We’re separate clans with different cultures.
We’re not meant to be ruled by one set of leaders as if all dragon shifters are the same.
” He stabs a hand towards Gremar. “Your clan has their own culture and their own traditions, but you barely get to practice them now because two people in an ice castle halfway across the continent is deciding what you’re allowed to do in your own homeland. ”
“We still have our own culture.”
“Really? Didn’t Fire Night used to be a huge tradition among your clan? A rite of passage even?” Challenge shines like steel in Draven’s eyes as he stares Gremar down. “When was the last time you got to practice that?”
Gremar opens his mouth, but no retort makes it out. Standing there on the pale floor, he just looks back at Draven, his mouth still slightly open.
“The Red Clan is fierce and proud,” Draven continues, his voice echoing with conviction through the high-ceilinged hall. “And it’s supposed to be ruled by you.”
Across the floor, Gremar hesitates.
“Azaroth didn’t choose Bane and Jessina to lead the Red Clan.” Draven holds Gremar’s gaze with blazing eyes. “He chose you. It’s time to take your clan back.”
For the first time ever, Gremar Fireclaw’s iron conviction wavers. He opens and closes his mouth several times, but no words make it out. So instead, he licks his lips and swallows while that uncharacteristic uncertainty flits across his face.
Still standing by the left wall, I watch it all in stunned silence.
Mabona’s tits, he’s good. This entire conversation, Draven has deliberately been hitting Gremar precisely where it will hurt the most. His pride.
It’s like watching a master archer shoot the wings off a fly.
I’ve always known that Draven is excellent at making people do what he wants, but watching him manipulate Gremar this thoroughly is so hot that I can feel the fire flickering through my veins.
“It’s, uhm…” Gremar begins, indecision still pulsing in his brown eyes.
The massive doors to the entrance hall are yanked open.
I whip my head towards them.
Ice spreads through my body like cold poison as two dragon shifters in elegant silver garments saunter in through the doors.
A slow smile spreads across Empress Jessina Iceheart’s face. “Well, isn’t this a lovely little reunion.”