36. Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
It hadn’t occurred to me at any point between waking up and finding Sin bleeding in Corym’s office that I might have missed a memory during last night's tumble through my past encounters. Learning that Sin loved me was pretty all-encompassing of my thoughts, so it was only understandable that I didn’t realize I had a few instances of people speaking in Rivellan that I still had yet to experience.
It was this realization that both intrigued and frightened me as I closed my eyes and found myself hidden in the shadows of the door to the grand hall.
I waited patiently, knowing exactly what I was about to see and yet still nervous all the same. It was the argument between my father and Dey. The one that he assured me was nothing, yet I knew had to be something.
“ You had one job, Deylan. One!” my father roared. “I have treated you like my own son. Raised you in the palace and given you all the finest things in life. And this is how you repay me? She was raised among humans, how hard could it be to seduce her? They are barely better than animals, and you are a Vitaean.” His voice dropped an octave as he bit out, “Fix this, Deylan. You have no idea what will happen if you fail, so do whatever it takes to make her fall in love with you. We are counting on you. ” He gave Dey one last ominous look, then stalked out of the grand hall. I didn’t watch him go, I just waited for the person I knew was about to emerge.
I hadn’t registered it the first time I saw him. The extent of shame and embarrassment on Dey’s face all because he failed to seduce me.
She was raised among humans.
Barely better than animals.
The words hurt more than a fenite dagger in my back.
I wasn’t disoriented this time when I woke up. I knew exactly where I was and what I had just witnessed.
I barely made it to the bathroom before I vomited my breakfast into the diamond-accented toilet.
You had one job.
Barely better than animals.
I couldn’t stop hearing the words inside my head. Any glimmer of hope that had been left inside me, any miniscule piece of my heart that still held onto the possibility that my father had a good reason for everything he had done… Gone. Incinerated by the flames coiling underneath my skin. A fire that wanted to rage until anybody who had ever hurt me regretted the day I was born.
If I had any sense of self left, I might have been worried about the dark thoughts coursing through my head. The voice inside me that screamed I was powerful now, and they couldn’t treat me like that.
Barely better than animals.
I held up my hand, visualized what I wanted, and smiled as thin wisps of fire emerged from the tips of my fingers, curling slightly as the writhing flames coalesced into inch-long talons. I pressed my hand to the floor, and the claws burned into the stone easily as if it were littler harder than clay, leaving a red hot glowing handprint.
My father wanted to manipulate me? Fine. I could play his game.
I rotated my hand, admiring the control I already had over my ability. Maybe it was my hatred driving it, maybe it was just a reaction to my father’s words.
It didn’t matter how it happened. He could call me whatever he wanted.
This animal had claws.
I’m not sure what I might have done if I had been alone in my room. The fire inside me demanded retribution and pain. I wanted to rake my new fiery claws over the king’s face and watch him scream until his magic healed him so I could do it again and again until he knew what it felt like to be helpless.
Only I wasn’t alone.
It was so soft, the tiny mewling noise that caught my attention.
The flames disappeared back inside me as I spun on the cold floor of the bathroom to look behind me.
“Jenni?” The word slipped out on a stunned exhale.
A tiny red creature sat in the middle of the doorway, its head cocked to the side, analyzing me.
Jenni.
My crescia.
I held out my trembling hand, and she tentatively moved toward me, her legs unsteady as a newborn fawn. Four tiny new tails swished behind her, the miniscule scales only giving off the faintest twinkling sound as they brushed together. She was bigger than her unbonded form, but still so small that she could climb into my hand and sit comfortably as I lifted her up. She couldn’t weigh more than a pound or two, but her size didn’t detract from her magnificence.
“My crescia is a baby dragon?” My words were hushed and awe-struck, made only more reverent by the slight echo off the stone that surrounded me.
Jenni wasn’t a baby dragon, of course. Dragons did not have four tails. Dragons did not have gauzy bat wings that looked like sky dimming into night—a deep shade of crimson that faded into purple then finally black with star-like speckles on the edges. And dragons definitely did not have adorable little feline faces, complete with whiskers that tickled as she nuzzled my palm.
She was fascinating.
She was perfect.
And when she opened her mouth and coughed out the tiniest little spark of fire before curling up in my palm and falling asleep, I knew that she was mine.
I spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Jenni and Opal. I was terrified someone would come in and find her, so I pushed my dresser in front of the door. It seemed rather unfair that every room in this castle had a lock except mine, though I couldn’t really be that surprised. I was well aware that my father was manipulating every move I made, so of course he wouldn’t allow me the privilege of privacy. It would be pretty hard for Dey to sneak in and show up naked in my bed if the door was locked.
Dey.
I rubbed at my chest. There was still a bit of an ache from that one. I didn’t even know what was real anymore. Had he been pretending the entire time? For all I knew, he might secretly loathe the amount of time he’d been required to spend with me.
I had suspected my father’s deceit from almost the very beginning, and I don't know why I kept making excuses. All he did was mold and shape my actions to whatever end he wanted. I wasn’t his daughter. I was his pawn.
I had trusted Dey, though, even considered him a friend despite him calling my people savages. I guess it was better than animals.
But the worst part of it all, the part that had me refusing to leave my room, was the fact that if Dey could fool me, then anyone could. Cam. Ram. Corym. I gulped. Even Jo.
Dey had some fucked-up, racist ideology, but I never once doubted that he cared about me. And if he was lying the whole time… then who else was lying?
This is why I never made friends. It was always a bad idea for me. I knew I wasn’t planning on staying here, and yet I had stupidly let so many of them into my heart.
I tried to summon my flames back to my hand, needing to express my frustration in some way that might make me feel better, but despite trying multiple times, they remained trapped underneath my skin. Apparently I didn't have the control I thought I did.
I punched the side of my bed instead, sending Opal and Jenni into a tizzy as they squawked and took flight.
“Sorry,” I called out to them, watching as they landed on top of the wardrobe and peered down at me. Great. Now I was scaring my crescia. Stellar move, Rain.
I held out my arm for Jenni to return, but she only twisted her head to the side defiantly. I couldn't help but laugh. She had so much personality. I knew what Dey meant when he said Thorell wasn’t a pet. Jenni was smart. Too smart sometimes, it seemed.
I made a sad face. “Pretty please?”
Another tiny fire burp popped out before she flew over to land on my arm. She nipped at my skin in admonishment as I ran my hands over her beautiful red scales. Her teeth were so tiny she couldn’t even break the skin.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her cat-like eyes narrowed even further, then she walked up to my shoulder, curled herself into a ball, and promptly fell asleep.
Sensing the danger was over, Opal flew down and snuggled into the center of my braid that I had coiled like a nest atop my head. She was never far from Jenni, and I was starting to worry what I would do about that. I couldn’t keep Opal too. She had a Vitaean out there somewhere just waiting for her bond. It would be selfish not to take her back to the Sylvarium. Then again, I wasn’t exactly an altruistic person by any stretch, so I could hold off a little longer.
I looked at Jenni sleeping on my shoulder. She was so precious with a fuzzy little snout and cute little whiskers sticking out from either side of her face that faintly tickled my skin. “You might be the hardest one to leave,” I whispered.
She cracked a single eye open at the sound of my voice.
“Rain not leaving.”
The words echoed through my brain, similar to when Jo spoke to me, yet the voice was so innocent, so child-like. A soft, melodic sound that danced inside my head.
I gawked at her. “Did you just talk?” There was a solid chance at this point I was literally going crazy and had imagined it.
“Yes.” Another fire burp escaped, and she squawked as if it had caught her off guard.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me that I could speak with my crescia?” That seemed like an important thing someone should have mentioned.
“Rain special.”
Now it was my turn to cock my head in confusion. “Are you saying that no one else can speak to their crescia?”
She dipped her head slightly twice in an action that appeared far too reminiscent of human behavior.
“This is insane. Nobody can speak to pets where I come from.”
Jenni’s eyes narrowed sharply, then she hopped down to my knee and gave a roar that would have been terrifying if she wasn’t five inches tall. The mini fireball that accompanied it barely left a noticeable scorch mark on Peywyn’s pants.
“Sorry! Poor word choice. I know you are more than just a pet. Trust me, I know.”
She huffed out a little puff of smoke, and I had to take a second to imagine the implications of this tiny creature being annoyed with me. The fact that she was intelligent enough to know when to take offense was beyond fathomable.
I ran a single finger across the red scales on top of her head, down her back, and over the spot where her spine split into four thin tails. “Forgive me?” I asked softly.
She gave a little wiggle and one of the tails reached back and wrapped around my pinky. The swell of joy in my heart at that tiny motion bordered on painful, and I imagined this was what people felt when a newborn baby held onto their finger.
“Can you tell me why I’m special?” I asked slowly, enunciating my words for her.
“Crescia know Rain. Inside. Rain is home.”
I sighed and leaned back against the bed. I didn’t think I was going to get any kind of straight answer out of her. Maybe her eloquence would improve as she got older.
I wondered if I should tell anyone about her ability to speak with me. I had no clue how they might react. In my world, if a human was able to talk to animals, they would likely end up in a government lab getting their brain sliced open, but how would Rivellans respond? Sin had seemed in awe of my unique fire ability, so maybe he'd feel the same about this. Although, he also had love coloring his response.
Love.
I still didn’t know what to do about that. I needed to tell him that I knew, but that would lead to a conversation I was terrified to have. Sin had known me for ten years, but I had only known him for a week. There was an undeniable connection between us, and when I was in his arms everything just felt… right.
But love? What did I even know about love.
A soft knock saved me from ruminating on those depressing thoughts. The door creaked open an inch, banging into the dresser.
“Just a second,” I called as I jumped to my feet, cupped Jenni in my hand, and rushed over to the tall wardrobe. Yanking it open, I set her on the bottom, then plucked Opal from my hair as well.
“You have to be quiet,” I said in a desperate yet hushed tone. Jenni gave a single dip of her head, and I shut them in.
I pushed my dresser away from the door and cracked it open slightly.
Dey eyed me curiously through the gap. “Is everything okay, Princess? Why is your door blocked?”
I clenched my fists at my side, summoning every ounce of willpower I had to not punch him in the face. Instead, I feigned a hint of embarrassment and said, “Sorry. I wanted to take a nap without being bothered. I don’t have a lock on my door so…”
Dey nodded in understanding. “Yes, apologies for that, but this was the only available room befitting a princess.”
“Perhaps a lock could be installed?” I asked, my face a picture of innocence.
“Yes, perhaps,” Dey replied flippantly. “The sisters are here to get you ready for dinner. Would you let them in?”
Shit. I had forgotten about dinner.
“Actually,” I said, fanning a hand in front of my face, “it was kind of warm in my room this afternoon, so I’m feeling a little sweaty. I’d like to take another shower first. Can you ask them to come back in a little bit?” I gave him my best doe-eyed princess look and prayed that he didn’t know me well enough to recognize the deception.
He smiled. “Of course. Enjoy your shower.” He turned to speak with the sisters, and I promptly shut the door.
Dashing over to the wardrobe, I pulled it open and knelt down to where Jenni and Opal were curled up together in the back corner.
“You guys were great, but I need to find a spot to hide you for the rest of the evening.” Jenni unfurled her body and gave a tiny squawk. “I know, I don’t like it either, but no one can know about our bond yet.” I searched around frantically, then scooped them both up, crossed the room, and set them on the long marble counter that comprised the back wall of the oversized bathroom. “You can stay in here, but if anyone comes in, I need you to hide in the pockets of my robe. Can you do that?” I tugged on the luxurious fabric to show them the spacious gaps.
“Jenni Opal secret. We hide.”
I gave them both a quick stroke and hurried back over to the wardrobe to rummage through the assortment of dresses.
Shit. They were all short-sleeved.
A panic attack began percolating inside me, but it faded when I found my salvation tucked in the very back. A silken, long-sleeved half jacket of a bright crimson hue.
I snagged the first gown that might match the color, then rushed into the bathroom. Pulling the dress on, I secured the jacket’s jeweled clasp across my chest. I glimpsed myself in the mirror and fought the urge to cringe. The shades of red were just different enough to look tacky together, and the diamond encrusted bolero did not match the wispy lacey vibe of the dress at all.
I was past the point of caring, though. Maybe they’d chalk it up to horrible human fashion sense.
After all, we were barely better than animals.