Chapter 12
12
CAT
M aeve was stationed like a solemn sentinel outside the Ryder mansion when my carriage rolled up; a less-than-triumphant chariot arriving not from some grand adventure, but more of a misadventure in navigation. The moment I alighted and caught Maeve's eye, startled by a look on her face that could sour milk, I knew something was up.
Her big eyes dimmed as they narrowed on me. She took hold of my hand and quietly ushered me inside. Without speaking, we walked through the maze of the outdoor courtyard until we reached Arya’s room. Once inside, she sealed us off from the world with a thud of the door that seemed to echo her heavy heart.
I turned around to see her still facing the door, clutching the handles for dear life and resting her forehead on the wooden door panel. “Maeve?” I ventured, my whisper hanging in the air. “Is everything okay? I’m sorry I stayed out all night, but I didn’t know my way home and the only person I ran into that I knew was—”
“You’re not Lady Arya, are you?” Her breathy whisper was nearly lost in the room's silence.
Her words hit me like a wayward dodgeball—unexpected and a bit absurd, considering I’d spent our entire acquaintance insisting I was not Arya. Yet, there I was, feeling like a fraud in a play where everyone already knew the plot and only played along for the drama.
The silence stretched painfully before I admitted what she’d finally come to believe. “No. I’m not.”
Maeve’s sigh was as loud as a storm, and when she turned to face me, her expression was a mix of relief and dread. “Where is she?” Her voice trembled.
“I think she’s in my world.” I tried to paint a picture of safety. “And if she is, she’s probably enjoying a less complicated existence pretending to be me.”
Maeve nodded and tried her best to contain her tears. Arya didn’t deserve her loyalty.
“How did you figure it out?” I was curious, since I’d done so many things that should have made her believe me – my tattoos being a glaring red arrow – yet she never swayed.
“You… you fight really well,” she murmured. “My lady is delicate. She can hardly swat a fly on her own, nor would she try. But… it was when we were fighting the vampires that I knew you were not her.”
“How?” I frowned, puzzled by her detective skills. She watched me fight in the tavern and it didn’t sway her then. What was different about the vampires?
A thoughtful pause. “My lady never would have sacrificed herself to save my life. If anything, she would have sacrificed me to save hers.”
So that was why she hesitated.
I gave her a gentle smile. “I tried to tell you, Maeve. I hope you don’t think I lied to you or anything—”
“I know,” she said solemnly. “I just… I need to get my lady back.”
“We will. That’s why I enlisted Garrick’s help. Hopefully we’ll hear from him soon with some clue on how I can return to my world. When I do, I’ll send Arya back. But in the meantime, I need your help to continue to pretend to be her.”
She gulped and her eyes widened. “I don’t know…”
“You’ve been doing a splendid job so far. It’s just for a little while longer!” I pleaded, although technically, I had no clue how much longer I needed her help.
Maeve nodded and nervously wrung her hands together. “Well… what’s your name?”
“It’s Cat, short for Catalina.” I approached her tentatively, aware she was probably afraid of me after seeing me kick ass in two fights yesterday. “I hope you know, Maeve, that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me so far. I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” I said softly. “If you ever need help while I’m here, know you can always come to me.”
Her head bounced up and she gazed at me in shock, her eyes widening. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really. I can be loyal to those who are loyal to me.”
She gulped. “Okay… thank you, Cat.”
“Now.” I spun on my heels and walked toward the bed, where I dropped onto the downy blankets and made myself comfortable. “I heard we got invited to a luncheon,” I smirked. “Care to fill me in?”
Maeve’s eyes widened even more and she hurried closer, completely forgetting her fear in her haste. “Oh, my lady! The emperor has invited the Ryder family to the palace for lunch!” She leaned in and whispered, “No one knows what this is about, but Lord Zacharia is worried. I almost couldn’t hide the fact that you’d been out all night.”
I tilted my head. “Oh? What is he so afraid of?”
“Lord Zacharia is the Minister of Rites on the emperor’s council. He also provides the dragons with iron, which has been dwindling since there is less and less in the mines,” Maeve whispered. “Once the emperor finds out that Lord Zacharia has been keeping the emptying mines a secret, the Ryders might find themselves in hotter water than their tea.”
Maeve and I shared a conspiratorial glance. My unintended adventure in Arya’s shoes was turning out to be more of a saga by the minute. But on the bright side, this invite may not have anything to do with my little trip to Obsidian Reach and Damien’s secret.
“Why has Lord Zacharia been keeping this a secret?” I whispered in return. “Why doesn’t he simply tell the emperor that—”
“Because it’s a matter of national security.” Maeve nibbled her lip. “The iron the Ryders produce is the only thing that keeps the fae at bay.”
I frowned. “How so?”
“Iron is poison to the fae. It weakens them. So to avoid a rebellion from the fae, the emperor surrounded Faelight Forest with iron,” Maeve explained.
I grimaced. “That’s… horrible.”
“Don’t forget, Lady Arya—I mean, Cat, the fae are cruel creatures. If they ever rise to power again, it will be the end for us. The dragons are protecting us.”
I wasn’t reassured. It was a case of whether you would kill Hitler as a baby to avoid the holocaust if you had the chance to go back in time. The answer was complicated, and the right answer may be wrong. Since I wasn’t interested in a long-winded history lesson on the fae, I changed the subject. “What do I need to learn before going to the palace?”
Maeve nodded. “We need to have a quick etiquette class.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me off the bed, stopping in the middle of the room and facing the mirror. Her face was prim. “You can’t walk as you usually do. Do you see how gracefully Lady Gianna carries herself?” She waited for me to nod. “ That’s how noblewomen walk.”
I snorted. “And how exactly do I do that?”
Maeve placed her hand on my lower back to straighten it, then between my shoulder blades to push my chest out. My spine was ramrod straight. She floated around to my front and tilted my chin up; not too high where my nose was in the air, but enough to give the illusion of a regal air. She nudged my feet and pushed them together.
“Maeve—”
“Shh!” She took my hands and placed each one delicately on top of the other just above my belly button. Then she stepped aside so I could look at myself in the mirror.
Being former military, I was used to the pomp and circumstance of ceremonial positions, but this… this was something else.
“You must not sway your arms when you walk, my lady.” Maeve met my eyes through the mirror. “You must always maintain your hands in this position.”
“What if I get a cramp?” I was tempted to move, my nose itchy all of a sudden.
“Ignore it,” she offered dismissively. “You cannot make any mistakes in the palace. It could bring trouble to your whole family, and they certainly don’t need any help there.”
“Jesus,” I murmured. “All right, I got it.”
“Once you’re in front of the emperor, close your right hand into a fist and place it in the palm of your left hand with your thumb up, then extend it out at chest level and bow.” Seeing my confused expression, she demonstrated the move and I mimicked her position. “While you are bowing, you will say, Long live Your Majesty. May you be blessed with another thousand years .”
“He’s a thousand years old?” I gasped, wondering if he was older than Royal Prince Bai.
Maeve shook her head. “No, but dragon time is relative. Now repeat it!”
I sighed as I placed my fist into my palm and bowed. “Long live Your Majesty. May you be blessed with another thousand years.” I went to straighten when she stopped me.
“You’re not allowed to rise until the emperor gives you permission.” After a moment, Maeve released the pressure on my back so I could rise.
“So many damn rules,” I murmured. “How come you know all of this? I would assume this would be something only the nobles knew.”
Maeve nodded. “It is, but I once entered the palace with my lady, and she taught me just in case we ever encountered the emperor.”
“Ah, okay.” I stretched my neck from side to side. “Will you be coming with us?”
Maeve shook her head. “I won’t be needed. The palace has plenty of servants to tend to your needs.”
A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of going without Maeve. She was my little Wikipedia of Elaria. Without her, I didn’t know shit about this place.
“Now, let’s get you dressed and ready. It’s almost a two-hour ride through Dragon Valley.” She ushered me to the vanity and I sat on the upholstered chair. She met my eyes again in the mirror, wearing a solemn expression. “You’ll have to be very careful, Cat.”
Maeve wasn’t wrong. It was time to put my acting prowess to work. All our lives could depend on it.
Maeve pulled out all the stops, turning me into a walking, talking Renaissance painting—only with better hair and a more dramatic eye. My dress, a deep shade of emerald green that popped against my golden skin, hugged me in all the right places before billowing out into a spectacular train that I was pretty sure I’d trip over at least once today. Long sleeved, of course, to hide my tattoos. The material felt expensive and heavy, like wearing a luxurious weighted blanket but in a fancy way. My hair was coiled in an elaborate up-do, decked out with gold hairpins and autumn-hued leaves that made me feel like I was wearing a crown, except without the heavy metal and the responsibility.
Maeve applied my makeup to the nines. My face was smoother than a photoshopped model, and my eyes—well, let’s just say they would make a smoky bar jealous. And my lips were a bold, dark red that was probably visible from space.
Riding in a carriage fancier than any limo back home, Lord Zacharia, Gianna, and I were on our way to Dragon Valley. According to Maeve, that part of the country didn’t house only the palace; it was also home turf for the four dragon clans—Drakonar, Nocturna, Blazix, and Ignis.
The carriage wheels crunched along the gravel road as we wound deeper into the folds of Dragon Valley. After a solid hour-and-a-half trek that had my rear numb and my patience thinner than my eyeliner, curiosity got the best of me. I yanked back the plush curtain, eager for my first real look at Dragon Valley. Maeve had hyped it up like it was the supernatural equivalent of Hollywood, and honestly? She wasn’t far off.
The valley sprawled below us, a lively tableau that mixed rustic charm with dragon-sized grandeur. It wasn’t just a river and some pretty leaves; this place was alive . A river snaked through the center, a blue vein pulsing with vitality, bordered by rows of quaint houses and bustling markets.
The streets were a flurry of activity, with dragon shifters in their human forms mingling, bartering, and going about their daily routines. Stalls overflowed with goods that glinted under the sun—jewelry that could make a magpie weep, spices that tickled my nose even from a distance, and fabrics that shimmered as if they were woven from the night sky itself. It was a far cry from the stiff upper lip of the Northern District where the nobles strutted, and miles away from the gritty, downtrodden vibe of the Southern District. Here, everyone moved with a purpose and pride that was contagious.
And the dragons? Oh, they weren't hiding. Immense creatures swept through the skies with a casual grace that made Olympic gymnasts look clumsy. Occasionally, one would shift mid-flight, transforming from a majestic beast into a person who landed with the ease of someone hopping off a bus. It was clear who ran the show around here, and it wasn’t the folks up in the Northern District with their fancy titles.
As we coiled up the mountain, the homes and markets thinned out and gave way to lush, open parklands where younger dragons tumbled and played, their laughter echoing against the stone. The scene was so different from anything back home—like stepping into a fantasy novel where dragons were neighbors, not nightmares.
And there, just visible as we rounded another bend, were the tips of the palace peeking over the mountaintop like it was playing hide and seek with us. It sat aloof from the vibrant life below, its spires catching the light, a silent sentinel watching over its lively domain. I leaned back, impressed despite myself. Dragon Valley wasn’t simply a place; it was a whole vibe, a kingdom where dragons ruled not just the skies, but the marketplaces and homes, their presence woven into the very fabric of the valley.
“How are you feeling?” Lord Zacharia carefully asked as I pulled the curtain back in place.
I peered over and realized he was talking to me. Throughout the carriage ride he’d been relatively quiet, whispering with Gianna, who sat beside him. I cleared my throat. “Um… I’m fine.” Looking at him still unnerved me. He was an exact replica of my father. My very dead father. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and hug him something fierce, but I knew deep down in my bones, he wasn’t really my father. He was Arya’s. And no replica could replace him.
“Good… good,” he murmured. “I’ve been busy, so I’ve been unable to check on you much since your accident. I hope Maeve has been taking care of you.”
“She’s been wonderful,” I said. “Maeve’s the best.”
Lord Zacharia and Gianna froze as they stared at me in bewilderment. Hmm… I guess Arya doesn’t sing Maeve’s praises much.
I tapped the side of my head and chuckled. “Maybe I’m not all there just yet.”
They laughed awkwardly with me and nodded. “Are you up to seeing the emperor in your… condition?” Gianna asked softly.
I waved off their concern. “Maeve prepped me, so have no fear. I should be fine.”
“Father, maybe it’s best if Arya pleads illness,” Gianna said with a grimace.
I frowned. “I said I was fine,” I repeated.
“Arya, it’s just—”
“If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it,” I cut her off, channeling the real Arya’s attitude.
Gianna jerked back as if I’d slapped her. Maybe I’d been too nice lately and she had gotten so used to this new, gentler, kinder Arya that she didn’t expect it.
Honestly, I didn’t understand Arya and Maeve’s hostility toward her, but I didn’t appreciate her suggestion that I needed to leave after we’d already ridden two hours to get here. Like, what was the point? This was a conversation we should have had before we left home if she was that concerned. If I turned around and left now, it would look bad, an insult to the emperor.
Her actions seemed… pleasantly intentional. I didn’t like this kind of shady shit.
Her guileless eyes widened. “My apologies, Arya, I just thought—”
I smiled cheekily. “Don’t.” Dismissing her, I turned my attention back to Lord Zacharia. “Do you know why the emperor summoned us?”
He shook his head. “No, darling, I don’t. But we must be careful. At yesterday’s council meeting, the emperor was not happy. We don’t know what his mood will be like today.”
I nodded and Gianna said, “Of course, Father.”
As our carriage climbed the final stretch, the full majesty of the dragon palace unfolded before us. Perched like a crown atop the highest peak of Dragon Valley, it was a sight that could make even the most cynical tourist drop their camera in awe. Unlike the castles plastered over postcards and fantasy book covers, this one had an architectural flair that screamed dragon-made . The main structure spiraled upward, mimicking the natural curvature of a dragon's tail, with towers that resembled claws reaching skyward as if trying to scratch the clouds.
The walls of the palace shimmered with a scale-like mosaic, reflecting the sunlight in a thousand hues—reds, golds, and deep greens that shifted with the light. Massive archways loomed like the open jaws of a dragon, inviting—or warning, depending on your mood—visitors to step inside.
As we drew closer, the gates of the palace opened to reveal a grand courtyard paved with stones that sparkled with embedded gems, likely treasures from the dragon's hoard. The courtyard bustled with dignitaries and palace staff who moved with the purposeful haste that accompanied high-stakes gatherings.
Lord Zacharia, ever the composed noble, adjusted his collar before stepping out of the carriage, while Gianna practiced her most diplomatic smile and mentally rehearsed her curtsy. I was the last to exit the carriage. As I stepped into the crisp mountain air, I felt every bit an imposter in my borrowed finery. My nerves buzzed with a mix of excitement and mild panic—typical fake family lunch vibes, if your fake family happened to involve dragons and mysterious imperial summonses.
We were greeted by a herald who bowed deeply, his robes sweeping the ground. “Lord Zacharia, the Emperor awaits your presence in the Sovereign Hall,” he announced, his voice echoing slightly off the stone.
As the grand gates of the Dragon Palace closed behind us with a resonant clang that could have been mistaken for a distant thunderclap, Lord Zacharia led the way. Our footsteps echoed off the high stone walls, a subtle reminder of the grandeur and gravity that surrounded us. The path to the Sovereign Hall was a winding journey through corridors that seemed to throb with the pulse of the palace itself.
The hallway was flanked by towering statues of past dragon rulers, each carved from a different type of stone, their eyes set with precious gems that seemed to follow our movements with unnerving precision. Pungent incense filled the palace with a smoky fragrance that mingled with the cooler mountain air seeping through the hidden alcoves.
“Stay close,” Lord Zacharia murmured as we followed him through the hallways. He knew his way through the palace and from the looks of it, so did Gianna. I assumed if Arya was here, she’d probably know it as well. I was the only outsider.
Gianna reached for my hand and clasped it. Startled, I flinched. She peered over at me and frowned at my reaction, but held firm as she turned her attention back toward Lord Zacharia. I honestly couldn’t get a read on this chick. I didn’t know what her intentions were or whether she was as good as she pretended to be, so for now, I remained mindful.
The winding corridor finally opened into a vast antechamber filled with light. Towering walls were adorned with intricate mosaics depicting the legendary battles and alliances of the dragon clans. The level of detail was staggering; each tile was a whisper of history, laid by hands who honored every legend.
Finally, the Sovereign Hall loomed before us, its doors as tall and imposing as the reputation of the emperor himself. The doors silently swung open, revealing the grandeur awaiting us inside.
“Remember to stay close and follow my lead,” Lord Zacharia cautioned under his breath again right before we crossed the threshold.
The Sovereign Hall, as we soon saw, was a masterpiece of architectural and artistic prowess. We passed through hallways lined with tapestries that told the history of the dragon clans, each thread shimmering with magic that made the scenes move and pulse. The hall itself was a vast, open space topped with a high, arched ceiling supported by columns that seemed to be carved from crystal, reflecting light in dazzling arrays. The floor was a polished stone that mirrored the ceiling's light, creating the effect of walking on the sun.
A herald stepped forward as we entered Sovereign Hall and his voice echoed grandly in the cavernous space. “Lord Zacharia and esteemed guests, the emperor awaits.”
The sheer opulence of the place struck me like a wave. My eyes gaped and my mouth hung open a bit longer than I'd care to admit.
Small, low tables were arranged around the perimeter of the room, surrounded by plush cushions instead of chairs. There, clusters of elegantly dressed figures were already seated, their attire glittering under the soft glow of the crystal chandeliers that hung high above. Each person looked more distinguished than the last, obviously key players within the empire's intricate social tapestry.
But all paled in comparison to the figure at the room's heart—the emperor. Positioned on a raised dais at the far end of the hall, he sat not on the floor like everyone else, but on an elevated throne that commanded the space. His table, unlike the others, was clearly designed for a single occupant and was set apart by its grandeur and height.
The hall's atmosphere was electric, each whisper and clink of cutlery resonating with an undercurrent of power and opulence. The emperor, a regal figure draped in silks that cascaded around his form, exuded an air of serene authority. His eyes briefly met mine, a piercing gaze that seemed to weigh and measure in a single glance.
As I ventured a closer look, my eyes were snared by something other than the emperor's commanding presence. The tables were masterpieces—crafted not from wood, but from what appeared to be solid gold. Their surfaces gleamed with a rich, almost indecent luster that captured every flicker of light. A small gasp escaped me, partly in awe and partly in a whimsical thought of how many heists it would take to clear this room.
The temptation to 'liberate' some of this splendor was a fleeting, mischievous thought—quickly dashed by the realization of just how out of my league I was in this den of dragons and diplomats.
“Lord Zacharia!” Emperor Valenor called out with a boisterous laugh. “How wonderful of you to join us!”
Gianna and I followed Lord Zacharia toward the center of the hall and all eyes darted to us as a hush fell over the room. The emperor’s words demanded immediate respect. When they dropped to their knees, Gianna pulled me down with her and I fell to my knees without a scrap of elegance and nearly tumbled over. Lord Zacharia and Gianna placed their right fist into their left palm and bowed, and I quickly followed.
“Long live His Majesty! May you live another thousand years!” the three of us said in well-practiced unison.
There was a dramatic pause and we remained without moving on our knees in a bowing position with our arms extended out. To say I was uncomfortable would be putting it mildly, but Maeve told me I couldn’t move. The seconds ticked by, yet we remained rigidly locked in position.
The uncomfortable silence continued until someone cleared their throat, followed by the emperor’s hearty laugh. “You may rise,” he declared.
We straightened and got to our feet. I was tempted to rub the soreness from my knees, but when I peered over at Gianna, I saw she was standing there stoically like Maeve taught me, so I mimicked her.
My gaze traveled around the room and I found a familiar face sitting at the first table on the right side of the room – Royal Prince Bai. He nodded subtly once we made eye contact, and I did the same.
“Please, Lord Zacharia, introduce me to your daughters,” Emperor Valenor commanded.
I peered up to get a better look at him. From my spot at the center of the hall, it was difficult to size up the emperor without making it obvious. Middle-aged, maybe, but the guy wore it well. There was just enough gray threaded in his dark hair to scream distinguished rather than ancient , styled in a way that said, 'I’m too busy ruling to bother with hair gel.' His piercing blue eyes didn’t merely scan the room; they did full security checks, like laser beams in a spy movie. Seriously, if looks could be weaponized, this man had enough ammo in his gaze to stage a coup.
Damien must have gotten his dark eyes from his mother, but he was gifted with his father’s rugged jawline, all squared and ready for a statue. The emperor’s beard was so perfectly trimmed, it must have had its own royal barber. And that smile? It was frightening. He stared at everyone with an imperious scowl that declared he knew we were all a bunch of liars and he was ready to behead us all and laugh while he did it.
I realized this wasn’t just any emperor; this was the kind of leader who probably had his own action figure line back home—'Emperor’s Greatest Hits’, complete with real smoldering blue eyes action. Or maybe he was the villain. Yeah, he was probably a villain if what Royal Prince Bai told me about him was true, which I had no doubt it was.
The emperor’s cobalt robe was trimmed in gold, and I noticed that the others in the room wore similar attire. But beyond his royal bearing, the gold crown that sat perfectly atop his head and the gold rings on his fingers studded with different colored gems announced he was a cut above the others. In other words, the man was blinged out.
“Your Majesty, this is my eldest daughter, Gianna.” Lord Zacharia motioned to Gianna at my left and then turned to me. “And my second daughter, Arya.”
“You have a son as well, if I remember correctly?” the emperor asked with a raised brow.
Lord Zacharia nodded. “Yes, he is a proud member of Your Majesty’s army.”
The emperor’s eyes widened in sincere surprise. I guess he didn’t know. “Is that so? Under which command?”
“Nightwing, Your Majesty.”
That surprised the emperor even further. “Those are some of my most elite soldiers, Zacharia.”
He turned to a man standing so quietly beside him, I hadn’t noticed him until now. The man was tall, slender, and covered head to toe in a gray robe with a hood that obscured his face. Even though I couldn’t see any distinguishing features, he looked hella creepy.
“Send rewards to Lord Zacharia’s son over at the Nightwing.” He swiveled his icy blue gaze back to Zacharia. “What is your son’s name?”
He deferentially inclined his head, all manners and graciousness. “Jacob, Your Majesty.”
The emperor said, “Jacob Ryder,” to the man beside him. The hooded man nodded without saying a word.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Lord Zacharia bowed again.
“Please join us, Zacharia.” Emperor Valenor motioned to a group of empty tables just large enough for one person each on his left.
Lord Zacharia took the first table, Gianna took the second, and I took the third. They primly knelt on the cushions, but after jumping out of planes so many years, my knees weren’t conducive to remain kneeling for long periods of time. Instead, I sat my ass down and crisscrossed my legs. It wasn’t an elegant look, especially wearing a dress, but they would have to compromise with me.
Royal Prince Bai sat across from us, along with another gentleman who seemed to be around my age. Actually, other than the emperor and Royal Prince Bai, everyone else in the room seemed to be closer to my age. Then again, age was relative in Elaria, so who knew how old these people actually were?
“You girls may or may not know, but this is my older brother, Royal Prince Bai,” the emperor greeted. “Beside him is my eldest son, Crown Prince Thorne. He’ll be looking for a Crown Princess soon.”
When Emperor Valenor winked at us, I held back a grimace with great effort. From what Maeve told me while she helped me get ready, the dragons did not marry outside their race. So his little comment was both insulting and totally unnecessary.
“Please, Father!” Thorne laughed and brushed off his comment. The eldest prince looked like a much younger version of his father, down to the same piercing blue eyes. He was handsome, I’d give him that, if you were into the boy next door vibe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Prince Thorne said with a measured nod, his eyes lingering on Gianna.
Did he like her already? Hmm… interesting. I peered over at the emperor to see if he noticed, but he was staring at Gianna, too. My spidey senses tingled. Either they were both inexplicably drawn to Gianna and her unparalleled beauty, or… she was the reason we were here. And there could only be one reason why—Damien.
I sighed in relief and sagged, then nearly fell backwards when I remembered I wasn’t sitting on a chair and had nothing behind me. I darted out a hand to grip the edge of the table and the utensils rattled, catching the attention of the gentleman sitting beside Thorne and directly across from me.
The strange man smirked wickedly and winked, which made me frown. His reaction was way too friendly, almost like he knew me. And if he did, that was a problem because Maeve did not prep me for it. Once again, here was another secret Arya had kept from her maid servant.
Emperor Valenor leaned forward and speared my almost-father with a pointed look. “Zacharia, from my understanding, Lady Gianna spends a lot of time with one of my sons, does she not?” He grabbed his wine goblet and drank, his eyes never leaving his Minister of Rites.
I searched for a servant, hoping to flag one down for a glass of water. There was no way I could drink wine. Just one sip would leave me with a mega migraine.
Lord Zacharia chuckled awkwardly. “Yes, the third prince, Prince Damien,” he admitted. “We have the honor of hosting him when he visits the mainland once a month.”
The guy directly across from me, the one who smirked at me, snorted loudly. Taking his goblet, he chugged the wine and slammed the glass down on the table. The sudden noise drew everyone’s attention his way.
“Excuse my other son, the second prince, Prince Julian. He lacks manners at times.” The emperor brushed off his son’s tantrum like it was no big deal and his behavior was an everyday occurrence.
“Apologies unnecessary, Your Majesty,” Lord Zacharia graciously offered. “We’re very grateful for the invitation today.”
“Of course you are,” Prince Julian scoffed. “When else would we allow humans to dine with us?” He rolled his eyes, no attempt to hide his disdain.
I hadn’t been following the conversation much, but I froze, just like everyone else did at that comment. My hand was mid-air as I was trying to flag down a servant, but I dropped it and turned my attention to the arrogant second prince. He was another carbon copy of his father with the same dark hair, but his blue eyes were a bit darker, almost indigo. Where Prince Thorne was tall and regal, Julian appeared to suffer from small dick energy.
“What did you say?” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. I stuck my pointer finger in my ear and made a show of wiggling it as if trying to hear better. “I don’t think I heard you clearly.” I leaned forward and looked him dead in the eyes. “Why don’t you repeat what you said?”
Julian looked at me and narrowed his gaze. “I said, when else—”
“Let me stop you right there,” I cut him off, extending a hand to stop him. Gasps rang out around the hall.
“Arya!” Gianna gritted beside me, but I ignored her.
I sucked my teeth and looked up at the high ceiling. “Man, I didn’t know this was the sort of hospitality offered by the royal family.” I dramatically sighed and glanced at the emperor, who seemed to be at a loss for words. “We might be mere humans, but these mere humans provide a lot for your daily enjoyment. Things that allow you to live comfortably up in these mountains.” I tsked. “It would be such a shame if the people of Elaria realized this was how the royal family felt about them.”
“Arya!” Lord Zacharia reprimanded, his face livid. “That’s enough! You are not to speak out of turn!”
I looked over at my fake father and offered a sweet smile. “Oh, of course, Father.” I turned my attention to Emperor Valenor and offered a slight bow from where I sat. “Apologies.” Then I looked back at the second prince and smirked.
“Fascinating,” the emperor stated blandly. “Absolutely fascinating. Zacharia, your youngest has quite a way with words. If I wasn’t in such a good mood, I’d have her tongue.”
His comment sobered me up quite a bit and I schooled my features, unwilling to show the emperor how his words affected me. Julian, the second prince glared at me like he wished he could kill me on the spot. I winked at him.
My fake father sputtered, “Apologies, Your Majesty! Arya had a terrible accident a little over a week ago and hasn’t been… well since.” Lord Zacharia tapped the side of his head. “She seems to say everything that’s on her mind, even if it’s offensive. We haven’t been able to control her and we’re—”
“Is that so?” the emperor interrupted. He tilted his head and stared at me with the same kind of morbid curiosity one would expect from a boy who roasted ants with a magnifying glass. He rubbed his perfectly coiffed beard and motioned toward the creepy robed guy beside him. “Malachar, tell me, have you ever heard of this condition before?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Malachar responded. His voice was colder than hoarfrost. It sent a shiver through me. “I’ve never heard of such a malady.”
Emperor Valenor waved me off as if swatting a pesky fly. “Enough of that. I want to know more about your eldest, Gianna, and her relationship with the third prince.”
My gaze darted to Royal Prince Bai, who met my gaze with an answering nod. It felt as if we could read each other’s minds.
This meeting was about Damien… but not in the way we thought.
“Brother,” Royal Prince Bai interrupted, “you may not be aware, but Prince Damien and Lady Gianna are no longer in communication.”
I saw Gianna lower her head in shame. She wrung her fingers on her lap and sniffled as if trying to hold back tears.
“Is that so?” The emperor glanced around the hall for confirmation. “And why was I not made aware of these developments?” He sent a pointed look at the second prince, Julian.
“Father,” Thorne cleared his throat, “I did advise you not to listen to rumors. Julian often tends to associate with those… beneath his station.”
Julian scoffed. “As if you don’t.”
Thorne whipped his gaze at his younger brother and glared. “I don’t,” he said confidently, and I believed him.
“Enough. I don’t need you reprimanding me.” Emperor Valenor waved away Thorne’s comment. “Lady Gianna, apologies. I believed you were involved with my third son and was… worried for your safety. He is not good company, as you might imagine. Hence his exile to Obsidian Reach. I wouldn’t want the Ryder family implicated in anything unsavory simply because of him. Don’t you agree, Lord Zacharia?”
Lord Zacharia appeared startled by the sudden turn of events. “Huh? Oh, yes, of course.” He pulled a silk handkerchief from his doublet and dabbed the beads of sweat that had collected at his brow.
I rolled my eyes, unable to stop my muttered curse. “Pussy.” Reaching toward a gold bowl filled with assorted nuts, I dropped them into my mouth and munched loudly, not giving a rat’s ass about propriety. They already thought I was missing some marbles; I might as well run with it.
“What was that, Lady Arya?” Julian speared me with a knowing look.
Still chewing, I offered a bored look. “I said pussy . Do you know what that means?” Of course, I knew damn well he didn’t. Some words just didn’t translate here.
Julian frowned, along with everyone else in the room except creepy Malachar, who stumbled forward and barely caught himself before he fell. I laughed and looked back at Julian.
“Look it up in a dictionary.” I dusted my dirty hands on my very expensive dress and raised my eyes to the emperor. “Apologies, Your Majesty, but may I be excused to… relieve myself?”
His lips curled in distaste, but the emperor nodded and motioned to one of the servants standing behind my table. “Escort her,” he commanded.
The servant helped me stand and quietly guided me out of the hall with a soft hand on my back and another on my arm. When we exited the room, I turned to the young girl and whispered, “When we return, can you trade my wine for water?”
Startled, the servant gasped, obviously not expecting me to speak to her.
“I asked if you could replace my wine with water,” I repeated. “I’m thirsty, but I don’t want wine.”
“Oh, of course, my lady.” We walked the rest of the way down the hall and into a room in silence. “The chamber pot is inside, my lady. Please let me know when you’re done so I may wash your hands.”
I nodded and entered the washroom. It was small, but there was enough space to move around. I looked down at the porcelain chamber pot and groaned. “Damn, I really want to go home,” I muttered.
I was tired of relieving myself in these things. They were beyond gross. Besides that, it made me incredibly uncomfortable to think of someone else cleaning it out. Like, I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t want someone else to do it, either.
“Jesus Christ, my dilemma.”
Just as I started to lift my dress, the door to the washroom burst open. I barely held in my shriek when someone stormed in and shut the door behind them. I dropped the hem of my dress and looked at the newcomer…
Julian, the second prince.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m about to take a piss. I doubt you want to be a witness.”
Julian snorted and prowled toward me with predatory hunger. “Is that any way to speak to me?”
I stood stock still. Waiting. Preparing.
“I always knew you were spoiled, Arya, but I never thought you were spoiled enough to think you could speak to the emperor like that.” His voice dropped to a whispered purr. “It was… tantalizing .” Julian wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me toward him.
“The fuck?” I pushed against his chest. Did I read him wrong in the hall? Were his glares not glares at all?
He leaned down and pressed his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” He pressed a wet kiss on my exposed skin.
I felt gross all over. By reflex, I kneed him between the legs.
He groaned, releasing me immediately and stooping over in pain. “You wench!”
“Wench?” I chuckled. “I guess that’s your way of calling me a bitch. Rude, but I’ll take it.” I shrugged. “What gives you the right to touch me like that? I don’t fuckin’ know you.”
Still hunched over and cupping his crown jewels, he peered up at me in confusion. “What? What do you mean you don’t know me? I think my bed would beg to differ!”
I frowned and then groaned. “Jesus Christ, Arya.” I started to run a hand through my hair before belatedly realizing it was in an up-do. “Fuck.” I spun on my heels and started to pace, trying to put as much distance as I could between us in this very small space. “Look, you heard about my accident. I lost my memories and I don’t remember anything, so… yeah. Please refrain from molesting me without my consent.”
“Without your consent?” he repeated as if the words were foreign to him. He straightened and narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t need your consent, Arya. You’ve already given yourself to me. So when I ask for it, you’ll give me what I want. It’s as simple as that. Unless you truly want to defy a prince?”
I paused to weigh my options. I would never in a million years willingly give myself to this jerkoff. Not even if he was the last man on earth and I needed him to repopulate the world. I’d end the human race or pray to God to make me the next non-virgin, virgin Mary. Either way, this wasn’t happening.
On the other hand, my refusal could potentially break some rules in this time and place, especially if I fought back, which I abso-fuckin-lutely would. So how to get out of this pickle? Was there a way out?
Shit, I really needed to pee. Couldn’t he have waited to reveal his douchey nature after I emptied my bladder?
I chuckled awkwardly. “Is there any way we can negotiate? For starters, I have no memories, and secondly, I really need to pee, and if I wait much longer, I will soil this dress.”
Prince Julian tilted his head and frowned as if I was speaking in another language. “You are not the same as before…” he murmured. “You’re possibly better.”
I groaned and paced the small space. “Give me a break, dude. Like you mentioned out there, I’m just a lowly human. What the heck do you want with me?”
Prince Julian scoffed. “What else are humans good for but to be our pets?”
I rolled my eyes. “Wow, you’re really winning my heart here.”
He smirked and prowled toward me. “I don’t need to win anything, because I already have you. Just like I’ll one day have Dragon Valley.”
I furrowed my brows. I wasn’t an expert in royal procedures, but I recalled the emperor introducing Thorne as the Crown Prince, which I assumed meant he was next in line for the throne. So what the hell was Prince Julian prattling on about?
“Sure,” I murmured, eyeing him skeptically.
“You’re mine!” he growled.
The threat in his tone was clear, but fear wasn't an option. When he reached out again, I was ready. I caught his arm and twisted it behind him, but he was quicker than I anticipated. With one swift movement, he rolled and reversed our positions. Now I was the one with my arm twisted behind my back at an awkward angle. His face was inches from mine, his breath hot with fury.
But I wasn't done. Pivoting on my back foot, I slipped out of his grip and lashed out with a sharp elbow to his ribs. Julian grunted, momentarily winded, but quickly retaliated by sweeping a leg towards mine and trying to knock me off balance.
We moved like shadow and flame, back and forth in a dance of power and resistance. As we grappled, his hand snagged the sleeve of my dress, tearing it with a violent rip. The fabric gave way to expose my arm, which was covered shoulder to wrist in a tableau of intricate tattoos—markings he had never seen before.
Julian paused and his eyes widened in shock at the sight. “What are those?”
Seizing upon his hesitation, I lunged forward, wrapped my arm around his neck, and pulled him into a tight headlock. His momentary shock gave way to a struggle, and he tensed and tried to pry my arm away. “These tattoos,” I hissed close to his ear, “are new. And no, they don’t recognize you, either!”
I squeezed tighter, hoping to put him to sleep. He had just dropped to one knee when the washroom door opened and Royal Prince Bai stood on the threshold. I didn’t loosen my grip for even a second. Not when the threat hadn’t been neutralized.
“Lady Arya!” Royal Prince Bai gasped as he looked between me and Julian. “What are you doing ?”
“He attacked me,” I gritted between my teeth.
“Uncle—” Julian gasped for help.
I chuckled because in my world, that was the term for tapping out, so I did him a solid and released him, adding a kick in the back to nudge him toward his uncle.
Royal Prince Bai stared at me with his mouth agape as if seeing me for the first time, then his gaze fell on my forearm and my exposed tattoos. His eyes widened further and he gasped again, pointing at me as if I was the anti-Christ. “Y-You!” he stuttered.
“Me? Me, what?” I frowned and glanced down at my arm, covering it with my other hand. “Is there something on me? Oh my God, get it off!” I jumped around wildly, imagining a huge, woolly spider straight from the depths of this medieval hell crawling up my skin.
Royal Prince Bai grabbed my arm to halt my movements and pushed away the torn sleeve, revealing my tattoos.
“Uncle, what are you doing?” Julian groaned from behind him. “Are you going to let her get away with assaulting a prince?”
Ignoring his nephew, Royal Prince Bai scanned my forearm and his brows shot up to his hairline. He ran a hand over my latest tattoo, almost as if trying to rub it away. “How long have you had this?” he whispered.
I furrowed my brows, confused by his reaction. “All of the tattoos or just that one?”
He pointed to my newest ink. “Just this one.”
I shrugged. I’d gotten it the night before the accident. “It’s only been a week and a half.”
“Around the time of the boating incident?” When I nodded, he gently covered my arm again and released me with a barely audible sigh.
“Uncle!” Julian shouted, annoyed.
“Julian, enough !” Royal Prince Bai yelled back, his voice echoing in the small room. “Do not take me for a fool!” He whirled on his nephew. “Lady Arya excused herself and you just happened to follow her in here? Where she was about to relieve herself? I doubt she invited you in here,” he scoffed. “Unless you want me to bring this matter up with your father, I suggest you leave here with your soiled dignity somewhat intact.”
Julian’s mouth fell open as he looked between the two of us, aghast. Even I was in disbelief. I thought for sure I was screwed. Without another word, Julian stormed out of the restroom without bothering to shut the door behind him. In his fury, he pushed past the row of startled servants and made several of them fall to the floor with muffled cries.
Seeing the young servant girl who had escorted me to the washroom on the floor with the others, I walked around Royal Prince Bai and helped her stand. “Are you okay? Sorry about that.”
“No, no, my lady, it’s not your fault!” the young girl mumbled as she hurried to her feet.
Royal Prince Bai said, “I think Lady Arya may need a change of attire. Could you please assist her? I’m sure one of the princesses’ dresses would fit just fine. One with long sleeves.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” the servant offered with a bow. “This way, my lady.”
I was ushered down the hallway, away from the chaos I had inadvertently caused.