Chapter 19
19
Zabriel
I t rains all day, and continues long into the night. It’s common for rain to fall in spring in Maledin, but I hope that the weather will clear for Isavelle’s coronation in six days’ time, and the Dragon Games that will follow.
Isavelle has been quiet all evening, and now she paces up and down our room at bedtime.
“ Sha’lenla , what is the matter?”
My mate gives me a long, tense look. “I don’t wish for you to worry about me, or to imagine that I have upset myself for no reason. I was reading necromancy books at Master Gaun’s archive today, and some of the details are difficult to stop thinking about.”
She rubs her belly absentmindedly, and I wonder if some of what she read had to do with children.
I sit down on the bed, pull her into my lap, and cradle her under my chin. “My sweet little witch. How sorry I am that you are feeling this way. Did you make yourself read it all because you believed it would help us fight Emmeric?”
I feel her nod. “I thought I could discover a weakness we could use to our advantage, but the magic is so cruel and despicable. I wonder how many people became excited and inspired reading those words.” She shudders at the memory. “At least it is kept locked up at the archive. That is some comfort.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Until there is some new sighting of Emmeric or he makes his next move, let’s put him out of our minds. There are many good things for us to focus on right now.”
“I will try, though I wonder how I will sleep tonight.”
“Shall I tell you something good?”
“Please.”
“Tomorrow the schedule for the Dragon Games will be posted, and all the riders will start to plan for their strongest events.”
Isavelle sits up in my lap, and a smile touches her lips. “Tomorrow? That is exciting news. I will probably have a thousand questions about each event. How soon will the games begin?”
“In six days, on the afternoon of your coronation.”
“Wonderful,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “I have my mate, my baby, and my dragon. The ceremony is important, but I long for a celebration and to witness all the beautiful dragons of Maledin. I want to feel like a dragonrider.”
I rub the tip of my nose against hers. “You are already a dragonrider, but I promise that the games will make you feel even more like one.” I press my lips to hers. “And the coronation will make you into the queen you are.”
Every dragonrider, wingrunner, resident of the castle, and what feels like half the city is crowded into the Great Hall the following morning. Enormous boards are carried in by the women of the Flame Temple, who are coordinating the event on behalf of myself, Stesha, and all the dragonriders. The Temple Crone and her two most senior Temple Mothers will referee and manage the scoring.
As soon as the boards are placed, dragonriders and avid fans of the forthcoming games cluster around them, exclaiming the schedule of events.
I smile when I see the first event, as it’s ideal for Scourge and myself. I already know what the events will be, but the order has been decided by the Hratha’len .
The smile is wiped from my face when over the sound of the happy crowd, I hear the screams of angry and distressed dragons. All the riders in the hall look around in confusion. Pavel, the rider of a charcoal gray Alpha dragon with violet eyes, pushes through the crowd in the Great Hall toward me, waving his hand and calling out to me. When he reaches me, he’s out of breath. “The dragonmaster sent me, Ma’len . There are three feral dragons and their riders at the dragongrounds. Two of them are yellow females that resemble Auryn. The flare is in an uproar.”
On the other side of the Great Hall, I see Kane leaning against the wall, grinning to himself. Yellow dragons. Dragons from his flare, and he’s found riders for them. Yet again, he hasn’t given me the courtesy of a warning.
I stride through the crowd, and people fall right and left to get out of my way. As I bear down on him, the grin fades from Kane’s face. I grasp him by the back of his cloak and drag him from the Great Hall. He fights me every step of the way, twisting in my grip, and punching and kicking me. He viciously attacks my side where I was injured by Emmeric, but I keep him off-balance by jerking him off his feet every few steps.
“What the fuck are you doing? Let me go.”
We cross a courtyard, and I pull him up a set of stone stairs as he stumbles and swears. Out on the ramparts we have a good view of the dragongrounds. Three Alpha dragons have landed at the eastern end of the dragongrounds. Two are yellow, and I recognize them as Auryn’s sisters. The third is scarlet.
I release Kane with a shove. “You were warned not to bring dragons from your flare into the city.”
Kane adjusts his black cloak, glaring at me through his stringy hair. “You spoke of Auryn, not of the other dragons of my flare. Are they not allowed to compete, Your Highness? Ma’len . Whatever you’re called.” He gives a sarcastic little bow. A crowd is gathering below us to witness our disagreement.
I have given this man every chance to prove that he can be reasonable and responsible, and yet everything he does is calculated to annoy someone. Especially me.
I seize his jacket with both hands, yank him to me, and say in a low and deadly voice, “You wish your riders to compete against mine? Every rule that I have given you applies to them, and I’m making you responsible for their behavior. Do not continue to test my patience. We outnumber you. We are better trained than you. Your mate will not weep over your broken and bloody corpse. Get these dragons out of my city before I rip you from the face of this earth.”
I release him, and he doesn’t move. Either he attacks the King of Maledin in front of hundreds of loyal onlookers, or he walks away with his tail tucked between his legs. In this moment, I’m so angry with him that I’m almost wishing for him to reach for his sword. This man causes my mate and Ravenna nothing but pain, and he’s a constant aggravation for me.
“Prepare for humiliation,” Kane says, his eyes filled with hate. “You will be utterly destroyed by our dragons.”
He turns and pushes his way through the crowd as everyone jeers at him. So that’s how he wants things to be for these Dragon Games. Not a friendly competition to bring out the best in the dragonriders, but a struggle for domination between two flares.
With the events revealed, the crowd begins to dissipate, and I struggle to hide my burning temper as much as I am able. I can feel the other dragons and riders on my territory, and it’s taking all my willpower not to leap onto Scourge and drive them out of Lenhale.
Isavelle joins my side and loops her arm through mine. I give her a smile and a swift kiss, but my insides are boiling.
“Zabriel? My father and sister have arrived.”
I don’t take in what she’s saying, and when I turn to her family, I must glare so fiercely because her father and sister both flinch. I take a breath and make myself relax. “Greetings. We’re so glad you’ve come for the celebration. You’re most welcome here.”
“The dragons are noisy today,” Anise says, peering past me toward the dragongrounds.
“Several wild dragons from the outskirts have arrived unexpectedly to compete in the Dragon Games. They’re still settling in,” I explain.
“Unexpectedly and aggressively arrived,” Isavelle adds.
“I hope you will be safe, Isavelle. Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to compete in the games?” her father asks.
She rests her hand on her belly. “I will be safe, Dad. I have Zabriel, Scourge, Esmeral, and all the dragonriders in Maledin to protect me.”
“Which events will you enter, Isavelle,” Anise asks her excitedly. “There are so many, and I have no clue what all the names mean. Shall we go and look at the board?”
The two young women disappear together, and Isavelle’s father and I stand side by side, admittedly a little awkwardly. I wouldn’t say that he dislikes me, but he hasn’t had many reasons to feel much confidence in me as a husband or father of her children. I’m the reason why she’s here in the capital and not safely at home with him. My people are the reason his wife and son are dead.
He watches Isavelle and Anise thread through the crowd and examine the board. “She was my little girl, then the Brethren took her away, and now she’s to be queen and has a baby on the way. I haven’t felt like I’ve been able to catch my breath. I thought one day I’d give her away.”
“Give her away?” I ask, puzzled.
“On her wedding day, a father walks his daughter down the aisle of the church to her husband’s side. But I suppose she’s already married, according to Maledinni customs.”
“Isavelle will walk through the Great Hall and up to the thrones where I will be waiting for her. I’m sure it would please her to have you by her side. It would please me as well.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to say that. You have your own traditions and Isavelle’s coronation is to become the Maledinni queen.”
“I enjoy Isavelle’s traditions as much as my own. She has taught me to say I love you .”
“Is love not part of Maledinni culture?”
“It is, but the way we express it is more abstract. I like the direct human way as well. Isavelle isn’t only the Maledinni queen. She’s the human queen, the Omega queen, and the witch queen. It’s a lot for anyone.” I gaze across the cavernous room at her and smile as I watch her with her sister. “But I know she can do it.”
“Even when she was a baby, and even though she was my firstborn, I knew there was something different about Isavelle. She was impatient to get somewhere, and now I know where that is.” He thinks for a moment. “If Isavelle wishes it, I will happily be part of her coronation.”
On the eve of Isavelle’s coronation, the flare takes to the night sky and fills the darkness with fire, to the delight of the entirety of Lenhale watching below. Some dragons paint the skies with long streamers of dragonfire. Others shoot a multitude of sparks into the air which shimmer to the ground. Against the backdrop of fiery lights, dragons swoop, roll, and twist for the delight of the onlookers below.
Isavelle and I stand on the battlements with the other residents of the castle, watching the show, and the fiery lights paint my queen’s face and dance in her eyes.
“I can’t wait for the Dragon Games to begin,” she tells me excitedly.
“Just look at the sky. The Dragon Games have already begun. After your coronation tomorrow, the first event will be held, and I will show my queen just what Scourge and I are capable of.”
She traces my lips with a finger. “So this is not an event for a little dragon and a pregnant queen?”
I nip at her finger. “It is not. This is an event for Alpha dragons and their riders, and any Betas who feel they can keep up. But don’t worry, my queen. There will be plenty of events for you and Esmeral to enter, and you will have the advantage.”
“Then I will proudly cheer on my king,” she tells me.
We go to bed, and I hold my queen in my arms, anticipating the moment I will finally see her crowned.
A group of Temple Maidens collect Isavelle from our bed just after dawn to take her to the Flame Temple to get ready. They have to peel her from my arms as I plant kiss after kiss on her lips, her throat, her belly.
“ Ma’len , you must release your lady so she can come back to you as queen,” the maids scold me.
Isavelle is giggling, half out of bed with the maids holding her hands while I trail kisses down her leg, her ankle, and finally her toes as her foot slips through my fingers. “I will be waiting in the Great Hall,” I shout after them as they take her away to bathe and dress. “Don’t be too long or I will come get you myself.”
I still don’t like being parted from my mate, but Fiala and Dusan are waiting outside the door to escort Isavelle, and they won’t let her out of their sight. As long as they are with her, or I am, she will be safe.
I haven’t worn my ceremonial golden armor since my own coronation, and it feels exciting to put it on today, as well as the crown that adorns my head. With a red cloak affixed to my shoulders, I walk to the Great Hall, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. I’m more comfortable in my battle-scarred black armor, but today I feel a certain amount of pride as I feel myself gleaming and catching so much attention. I always knew that one day I’d be king, and I’d crown my queen, but the idea of being king was always off-putting because it reminded me too much of my father. When I consider everything Isavelle and I have been through together, from battle-torn Maledin, through our challenging heats and ruts, assassination attempts, and navigating the turmoil of our murdered and missing villagers, we’ve only grown stronger together. I can be a different kind of king, and Isavelle makes that joyful.
I wait with my hand resting on the hilt of a golden sword, my chin raised. Hundreds of people are waiting with me, talking excitedly in whispers and staring at me. Close to the front are my dragonriders, and every time they grin at me, I can’t help but smile back. We have accomplished so much, they and I, and these Dragon Games are for them. The people will see how fierce and loyal our dragons are, right here in the skies over Maledin.
The doors to the Great Hall creak open, and everyone whirls around. I’m up on the dais, but my mate is small, and I have to crane my neck to see the top of her golden head as she walks through the crowd, which parts around her like water flowing around river stones. I smile when I see that she’s not alone, and her arm is looped through her father’s. He appears somber, but when he glances at his daughter, a smile appears on his lips.
Then the crowd parts further, and I see her properly.
My breath catches in my throat as Isavelle’s turquoise eyes shine up at me, full of hope and love. She wears a long, gleaming golden dress that flows over her baby bump, and the tips of her fingers are decorated with pretty golden talons. How beautiful she is. When she reaches the dais, she kisses her father on the cheek, and then climbs the few steps to meet me. I hold out my hands to her.
“Look at you, sha’lenla ,” I murmur, my eyes roving over her. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
She strokes my cheek, and I duck my head to kiss her. I can’t help but seek the scars on the nape of her neck that I put there, hidden by her hair.
The Temple Crone steps forward, bearing a cushion with a crown. Isavelle’s crown is golden and inlaid with carved turquoise scales. I pick it up with both hands and turn to my mate.
I remember the first time I saw her, amid the smoke and chaos of battle. A small figure smothered in white cloth, terrified for her life. The wind changed, and her delicate veil blew up into the air, and I caught her scent, and without knowing what she looked like or who she was, I knew she was mine forever.
I place the crown atop her flowing golden hair, and she beams up at me with love in her eyes. “I’m so proud that you’re my queen. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
“Zabriel,” is all she can manage to whisper as tears shimmer in her eyes.
I lean down and kiss her, and distantly I’m aware of the sound of stomping feet, applause, and whistling.
We sit together upon the twin golden thrones so that everyone in the Great Hall can see us together, but we keep our hands joined because we can’t bear not to be touching, and I can’t keep the smile from my face. I like this far better than my own coronation. That day was a little too stiff and cold, and I didn’t enjoy standing up here all alone. There was something missing, and I knew what. I searched the crowd for a sight of her, but Isavelle eluded me.
My hand tightens on hers. But I have her now.
Turning to my queen, I say to her, “There are more people outside. Shall we go out upon the balcony so that they may all see their new queen?”
I help her to her feet, and looping her arm through mine, we step outside and climb up onto the battlements where the residents of Lenhale are gathered below. When they see Isavelle dressed in gold and wearing her crown, the cheers are deafening.
There are just two dragons in the sky, one enormous and black, and the other nimble and turquoise. They fly together, moving in a synchronous, joyful manner across the skies. Esmeral dives toward the castle walls and snatches up something in her teeth. It’s a banner, and as she flies through the skies, the rolled-up fabric unfurls behind her, long and streaming in the wind. On it are the silhouettes of all the dragons in the flare, and another cheer goes up from the crowd below.
I feel my heart race. The Dragon Games have begun.