13. Drakonis
13
DRAKONIS
W here is she?
I don’t know. Drakonis answered in his mind.
We must find her. Drakonis’s dragon growled.
Days and nights ran together after Gavril’s funeral, yet the warmth from her arms remained. Clara said nothing as he fell into the depths of his despair. The only sounds he heard were the beating of her heart and the breath from her lungs. Occasionally she stroked his hair through the veil, but it was always soft as a bird’s wing, almost dreamlike. When he stood, she took the veil away and immediately turned her back to him, making herself busy in the room.
“Thank you,” he said. The words had felt like poison. When was the last time he had thanked someone?
“For what?” Her voice was flat. Clara acted as if he wasn’t there, grabbing a brush and running it through her long waves. “If you will excuse me, Your Highness, I must get some rest and recoup the power I have used this day.”
And that was it. They had not spoken since that day and he heard not even a servant whisper about his meltdown.
“I will not be able to entertain the lady today,” Alastair said, stretching his arms in the air. One arm bent to his shoulder and the other grabbed his elbow, pulling a little to the side. “Mikhael and I have some chaos to start with Kazimir’s faction. Marquis Valen and Duke Loukas decided to stir things up with Zillah instead of following your commands.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Laundering, coverups, silencing, who knows. But we are going to catch them in the act. Right now, it’s important we weaken them so we can get one of our own in the Chancellor seat.” Word of a new Chancellor made his stomach feel as if it were filled with stone. Politics continued just like before, as if Gavril was not even a thought to any but he, and his mother. “The festival is soon,” Alastair continued. “It will be nice to relax, drink, and visit my ladies.”
Drakonis barely heard a word. Before the Dawning Festival, which celebrated their nation’s birth, they had a hunt. It was a way for all the men to show off their physical and strategic strengths.
“Conserve your strength. I do not want you blamed for anything that could get you thrown in a volcano,” Drakonis said. He was half joking.
“Either you’ll get me out or I’ll defect somewhere. Kazimir says a bunch of words, but he is as weak as a fire beetle. His only strength is from those that listen to his nonsense.”
Drakonis chuckled. While Drakonis had practiced with swords and soldiers, Kazimir frolicked with women and made use of a silver tongue. He was dangerous in stirring crowds, but he could never act alone. No faction. No power.
“Nice distraction by the way, your highness. Where is Lady Clara?”
A brief image of Alastair walking cozily with Clara flashed in his mind. Knives scraped across his skull from his dragon and his chest ached. He pushed it away.
“I have not seen her since the funeral,” Drakonis replied.
“You should. She is all everyone talks about. Many are wondering if she is a dragon’s bastard with the way she handled things. A funeral like that has not been…”
“Recorded since Phaedrus. I know.” His dragon had told him so.
Drakonis distracted himself with the bustling around the palace gardens.
“Did something happen between the two of you?” Alastair pushed.
It was as if her arms were wrapped around him again. Her soothing breath in his ears. He swallowed. “No. Why would you ask that?”
“It’s not like you to avoid someone,” Alastair said. “You’re not still mad about Gavril planning his funeral with her behind your back, are you?”
Alastair’s hands went to his waist. His curved sword clinked in its scabbard, this thumb running across the hilt.
“No.” It was true he was angry before. But how could he feel such a way after the way she comforted him? “To be honest, I do not know what to say to her.”
“Well, you have been a right prick to her haven’t ya?” Alastair rolled his head, popping his neck. “Why don’t you invite her to the festival as your special guest?”
I like this friend.
Hush, Drakonis replied.
“Gavril said the same thing.” In fact, he had pushed the idea when he was poisoned.
“I don’t have time to run your agenda and play babysitter. I like the girl, but she has her mission too and I don’t have the power to get her what she needs. And when did you suddenly go lame when talking to women?”
“She likes different things than other women.” Clara preferred books over gems. Knowledge instead of trinkets. Unlike those bred to be wives, she was perceptive and levelheaded. Clara was unique. “But I was already planning to ask her. She has done a lot for Gavril, and thus the royal family.”
That’s how he would rationalize it. The fact that she had constantly been on his mind had nothing to do with it.
The fountain nearby went from spouting water to spouting fire. Guards rushed all around them and Alastair excused himself to investigate.
A plant he was watching became bright with flame then died instantly. Drakonis’s eyes widened, and he looked around. In the distance he saw familiar red eyes glowing in the shadows of brush and trees right before the hunting grounds. After making sure no one noticed him, from the windows or around the chaos, he slipped away.
“You have a lot of nerve sneaking in here Nero,” Drakonis said when he past the tree line.
“And you have nerve to insult my lady.”
Politeness went out the window. Drakonis crossed his arms.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ragnar believes you to be the greatest mind in Ouroboros. Don’t insult him with brainless words.” Nero rolled his eyes, leaning against a tree, remaining half in the shadows. With his midnight skin and onyx hair and horns he blended in perfectly. It was always the flames in his eyes that could be seen, and so often, scared those that saw him. “I do not do well with coddling. My princess was close to crying, and the only times I like tears are in a dungeon.”
“Clara cried?” He felt slithering in his body. A serpent tightened around his heart. “Impossible.”
“She must bottle up a lot while here. I suspect she let her guard down for a familiar face.” Nero said. “But she is at a point where she is second guessing her mission. You need her as much as she needs you. Go patch things up.”
“I have done nothing to her.”
He felt a sharp pain on the back of his head, like he was slapped.
Would you stop? He thought to his dragon. He received a hiss in return.
“You haven’t exactly been comrades. I need you to at least be an ally.” Nero said. He pushed off the tree and stepped closer to Drakonis. “Like your friend, I have many things I must do. One of those is keeping an eye on my queen’s sister. Make it easier on me and protect her. Give her what she needs so I can get her out of here as soon as I can.”
Drakonis told her many times that she did not belong in Ouroboros. But the thought of her leaving had him upset.
“I swore I would not let anything happen to her and I have not failed in that duty. And we may have been comrades in the war, but I’m not going to go so far as make your spying easier. Ragnar likes surprises. We’ll keep things interesting.”
“He’s changed since getting married. Ragnar desires peace and he’s not going to achieve that with your brother interfering in things he does not understand.”
Nero’s words brought a heavier weight on his shoulders. “I am well aware.”
“So, while you’re helping my princess find the Heir, I will humiliate Kazimir. And do not spout nonsense to that woman. She is too kindhearted for a jaded, and prejudiced, world view.”
“She is quite capable of speaking up for herself.” Drakonis found himself defensive. Nero speaking as if he knew her made his fist itch. Like he wanted to start a fight.
Nero sighed. “Just listen to the woman. And give her what she needs. If I find out you are hindering her I’ll torment more dragons then just Kazimir.”
“You forget that I fight as well as you do,” Drakonis challenged. The man may be his friend, but he would protect his people.
“And you forget the connections I have. I could snatch up your people from the farmlands and tradesmen from Lav and you would never see them again. I don’t need to fight physically. I’ll hurt you economically.” Drakonis bared his teeth and growled. His instincts pushed him to draw his sword, but he ignored it. “Glad we have an understanding. Be sure to fix those weak points when you become emperor.” Nero raised a finger, pointing behind him. “She’s at the cove. Don’t disturb her, but I’d rather you escort her back then one of your weakling servants.”
Drakonis narrowed his eyes and walked past. The air between the two was electrifyingly chilly.
“Listen to her Drakonis,” Nero said, then he disappeared in the wood.
“Cut your fire on the way out.”
Their relationship could be seen as treasonous, but it was a political necessity. Just as Nero was here, he had spies in Herrlof.
He’s too close to her.
“He’s, her guard,” Drakonis said internally.
That woman should be ours. Hurry along and fix your transgressions.
“I was already planning on it,” Drakonis argued. His dragon was becoming wearisome. “But we cannot get too attached. She must return…
No! We keep her here.
Scales along his legs burned. His pace quickened when the burning sensation on his lower back began to slowly intensify.
“I already told you I planned on going to her.”
You are slow. The gargoyle said she is in the cove. We find her.
“I’m starting to wonder if we purposely got rid of our inner dragons for being so troublesome.”
A last zap touched the side of his head.
Vibrant colored birds flew from branch to branch, their cheeps and songs bringing peace to the air around them. Alastair, and his soldiers’, voices grew distant. His booted feet became more silent the deeper he went into the wood, with moss and lush grass replacing sticks and branches. His last report was that Clara was taking a trip in the garden mazes behind the castle. This was so far off that path. Nero was an obvious culprit on why she had gone so far from the castle, and it bothered him.
Like Nero and his dragon, he was truly to blame. He had been kind to her in public but had been standoffish in private. She unnerved him in ways he couldn’t explain. But was it necessary to keep those feelings now? Gavril trusted her with his final rites. Something sacred to dragon kind. That had to mean she gained his trust, something he let few have.
The down rush of water was the first sound that reached his ears as he broke through the brush. Smoky mist rose from the water’s surface and a rainbow glimmered in the long blue cascade. Drakonis bent under a low hanging branch, his eyes roving along the grassy bank. A large boulder was to the side with a brown cloak resting and small sandals in front of it. Was Clara barefoot?
“Clara!” He yelled. The rushing water drowned out his voice.
Was she under the water? Humans only had limited breath, right? Surely, she would have popped up as he entered or during this time he was looking.
“Lady!” He yelled again.
The sun was starting to set, the sky turning orange and yellow. If she was exploring, it was a rough time to do it. It was during the night that the violent creatures came out. Someone as weak as her would be prey quickly.
Just as he was turning on his heel to go deeper in the wood, a splash stopped him.
Breaking the water’s surface, Clara jumped, throwing her hair back, water droplets arcing above her head. Her hair slapped her wet back and the sun’s setting rays made her tanned skinned look glittering. From the side, her normal smooth forehead looked as if it had large wrinkles.
A white dress clung to her body in the most seductive ways. She might as well have been nude with the way her breasts pressed against the fabric, her nipples peaking from the cold air that hit them. She hummed as she swooped her black hair over her shoulder, running her fingers through it. The low back of her dressed kissed her tailbone, bringing more of her exposed body to his view.
Drakonis’s mouth became dry. She was more beautiful without the painted runes and jewelry. A water nymph that would temp any god within the area.
Now we see the appeal of merwomen. His dragon whispered, zapping him. Drakonis slapped his neck with a growl.
We mustn’t drown. His dragon said followed by a dark chuckle.
Clara turned quickly. Her hair clung one breast, leaving the other exposed. Water droplets clung to her clavicle and her waist looked so tiny as she sunk in the water.
“Your Highness,” she gasped.
Drakonis’s eyes moved to her forehead. He had thought it jewelry at first but a third, lidded, golden eye was in her skin, staring at him. There was something enchanting about it. The eyeball quivered, beginning to move, until Clara put her hand over it.
“I’m so sorry your highness,” Clara said in a rush. “Please disregard me for just a moment.”
She let go of the eye as she dunked under the water. Her dark figure was quick as she practically glided to shore. Drakonis rushed to her side, his hand extended as she broke the surface once again. The eye was not as predominant as before but fading into her skin.
A blush dusted her cheeks as she kept feeling her own forehead.
“Please do not be bothered. I find it fascinating.” Just like he, it was like she had an entity inside of her. Was that eye how she knew about his dragon?
Drakonis admired the way her white dress fit along her hips. It was slitted high on her thigh and left nothing to the imagination. Muscles contracted in his lower belly, a fire beginning to build. He cleared his throat.
“What were you doing here?” Drakonis asked.
“Oh!” Clara looked back at the water, biting her lower lip. In just these last few moments he saw more emotion coming over her than since she had arrived. “I was purifying. This and meditation help me focus my powers and relieve stress.”
“Not many people come here. How did you find it?” She said she could never tell a lie. Would she rat Nero out?
“I was guided here.” Her answer was short. She looked around and spotted her sandals.
“By whom?” Drakonis pressed.
“Someone who looked like a guard.” Drakonis had to figure out how Nero got his disguises without getting caught.
“You must tell me how Lord Nero does it.”
Clara stopped and turned; her eyes wide. “You know about Lord Nero?”
“Yes. In fact, he’s the one that told me you were here.” She did not need to know the rest, but looking at her now he was glad that he was the one who found her. “Please let me know when you want to return here. If it helps you, I’ll be happy to arrange it.”
She quirked a brow. “Thank you, your highness.”
“There is no need to thank me. And please call me Drakonis when we are alone.”
Drakonis bit back a groan as Clara bent to pick up her sandals. The woman might as well be naked.
I’m sure we could convince her to be, his dragon purred.
“Allow me to help,” Drakonis blurted. Clara squeaked, wrapping her arms around his neck as he placed her on the boulder. Her feet were so tiny as he held them in his hand. He could feel how stiff she was. He ran his thumb up and down her ankle in a soothing motion. “You must be cold.” Drakonis removed his outer kymu wrapping it around her shoulders.
“I have…”
Drakonis threw the brown cloak, he assumed to belong to Nero, on the grass. She stopped speaking as she watched it float down.
“That does not look like one from Ouroboros. I must insist you use my kymuruh . It is a kymu made to adjust to one’s body temperatures.”
“Fascinating. Do all your clothes do that?”
“Most. Dragons are cold blooded. The heat does not bother us as much as the wind. We make sure that our cloth is lined properly.”
Drakonis kneeled to pick up her sandal, moving the tiny straps where they needed to be. He looked up the length of her body under his lashes. Every bump and curve was exposed to his eyes here. From the slit he could see her thighs rub together and how her breast bobbed as she moved to get comfortable. She seemed calm in her nakedness. His claws twitched. How many men had seen her in this way?
“Your highness…”
“Drakonis.”
“Dr-drakonis.” It was the second time he heard his name come from her mouth. His chest rumbled. An image of her being thrown on his bed came to mind. Her husky voice calling his name, while he bent her in other ways to get a good look of her body. He pinched himself to bring him back to reality. It had been long since he bedded a woman. “You needn’t go so far. I can puton my own sandals.”
“It is of no consequence,” Drakonis responded, caressing her other foot. He wanted to feel her skin as much as he could in this moment. “This is the least I can do.”
“I have not done anything that warrants such thanks.”
Drakonis glanced up. She had pulled his kymuruh closer. It was adorable how she looked as if she swam in it. He thought of her once more in his bed, wrapped in his comforter. He shook his head. Seeing her in such a state was starting to rile his instincts. He craved closeness to her more now than ever before. Clara thought she did a duty, but her releasing his long-forgotten brethren was honorable. Neither god or humans had ever showed such reverence for his people.
“It is my duty to look after you.” He stood and extended his hand. Clara took it, albeit hesitantly, stepping onto the grass from the boulder. His callused thumb rubbed her knuckles in circles.
“To make sure I do not do anything that harms dragon kind,” Clara said. His repeated words stung.
“Maybe at first but now…” He paused. What could he say? He did not even understand what he was feeling. He went from being cautious to being simultaneously overwhelmed and at peace around her. “It’s different,” Drakonis said.
His laced his fingers between hers, squeezed them, not wanting to let go. Minutes felt long as he watched her light brown eyes look from it to his face multiple times. When she did not release it, there was a sigh of relief. Instead of the castle, he desired to move her to his room. He needed to get her properly dressed. Maybe that would calm his mind.
Drakonis tugged at her hand, moving the forest’s brush and branches out of their path. Her body contorted as she avoided anything touching the kymuruh , at times pulling it so close he could glance her figure.
“Please do not worry,” he said with a smile. “I have plenty made and one getting damaged…”
“It would be disrespectful,” she interrupted.
The sky morphed from orange to purple. Conversation was dying as it normally did and he scrambled to figure out a topic of conversation. He just wanted to hear her voice for a little longer.
“Have you been comfortable in your room? Is there anything you desire?”
“I am very comfortable. I’m hardly there. Most days and nights I am in the library.” She paused, peaking at him from under piece of long black hair that fallen on her face. “But I am becoming frustrated with lack of information about Phaedrus. Are there any other places I could look?”
“There is.” Gavril had mentioned she was interested in the emperor’s personal library. He was the prince, so he was allowed to freely enter. Problem is he would need his father’s permission to bring Clara. “I will see what I can find,” he said.
You talk to her with the grace of a gremlin ! his dragon scolded. Ask her to the Hunt.
Drakonis took Clara by the waist, pressing his fingertips into the part of her torso under her breasts, lifting her over a branch arching from the dirt. Her cheeks were dusted pink. His chest hummed from the close contact. It was every time now. When she was near, his instincts wanted to have her touch him. When he did touch her, he didn’t want to let her go. He no longer wanted to fight it.
“Our Dawning Festival is going to be kicking off soon.”
“Oh yes. Gavril told me about that. He said it was the most celebrated time of year.”
“Yes.” Drakonis agreed. “Before it begins, my father hosts a hunt. Noble men and soldiers go out and find big game for the festival feasts.”
Clara’s feet touched the grass. Wanting to keep her close, Drakonis tucked her arm into the crook of his arm as they walked. Her honeyed perfume filled his nose. Whatever it was he would buy it and make into incense.
“That sounds like a delight,” she answered.
“Will you come?” he asked. Clara stopped and looked up.
“You wish for me to be there? But you…” She didn’t finish what she was saying. Her lips pursed then relaxed. “If that is what your highness wishes then I will be there.”
She wasn’t as enthusiastic as he hoped but it was a start.
“You will learn much about my people there. It may help in your research.” Drakonis rationalized. Whatever brought her there and kept her there.
“Your highness…you do not have to force yourself to be near me,” Clara stated. Drakonis’s eyes widened. “I understand how uncomfortable you must be right now.” Did he? Yes, but it wasn’t for the reason that she thought. “I know what it is like to lose someone precious.” Clara continued. “My father was…murdered.”
Drakonis sucked in a breath, remembering the ugly words he had said. The grief in her eyes, the emotion that completely disabled him, was raw. He was a fool.
“It…it tore my family apart. I had to raise my youngest brother while my oldest lived absorbed in the Oceanus army. He believes that glory and deeds are the only way he can provide and protect us. And my sister…” He saw her other hand shake. Her eyes glazed in tears. “My sister carried so much guilt that she returned to the surface world and disappeared. We thought her dead until she met the gargoyle king of the north.” Clara seemed lost in her thoughts. Then she shook her head and looked up at him. “I tell you all of this so we can understand each other. Mourning is hard, especially when it’s someone so close. All you can do is take it one day at a time.”
Drakonis’s heart warmed. Clara was unlike any woman he had ever met.
“I am not forcing myself,” he said. His shoulders felt lighter. She was connecting with him, and he would take the invitation. “If anything, I am grateful to you.” Drakonis brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I want to help you prepare for the hunt if you wish to go. Will you please be my escort?”
Clara smiled. At him. Indescribably happiness filled his heart. He squeezed her fingers and memorized every detail of this moment with her.
Fire torches pierced the tree line. He fought a growl when Clara pulled back her hand. She removed the kymuruh , handing it to Drakonis. He declined.
“I feel we have finally taken a step to be friends,” she said. “I will be fine until I reach my room. I do not wish to sully your reputation.”
“Are all oracles stubborn?”
For the first time he heard her laugh. It was a small chuckle but it was a start.
“I hear that it runs in my family,” she said.
“Indeed.”
Her clothes had dried some. At least they were not as transparent as before. But the images of her moaning his name in his bed had returned. He stepped side to side, trying to alleviate the new feeling in between his thigh.
“Goodnight your highness.”
Drakonis was stunned. As she turned her back to enter the castle the moon had cast its glow on her. It was as if she embodied Nyx herself.
He stopped her, grabbing her wrist. Her lips formed an ‘O’. He grabbed her free hand and ran his fingers down her wrist. He looked down at her from over his nose bringing both of those tiny hands to his lips. He kissed each knuckle and lightly nipped one.
“Goodnight princess.”
Yes, they had taken a step towards something. His princess called it friendship, but if these feelings of his continued to grow, he would make sure it was more. For this night, it would have to be in his dreams.