Chapter Six #2
“My greatest fan moved across the sea,” Williard said, his voice dry and brittle as driftwood bleached by sun. “I told you—I made my kites for a certain princess.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Well, I’ve returned.” I spun, catching the warmth in his broad grin.
The apprentice scoffed. Every head turned. Williard’s brows furrowed. Mikal’s hand dropped to his dagger without a word.
“Something to say?” he asked.
The young man’s dark eyes darted from face to face. Freya edged closer. Her presence settled my nerves.
“We didn’t expect her back,” he bit out.
“So soon,” Williard added, tone soft. “Princess, you haven’t met my apprentice. This is Kai. He’s gifted at crafting and imbuing kites.”
“And making fish dance,” Freya muttered.
Mikal hadn’t taken his eyes off the boy. “Abusing magic will cost you your Vessel status,” he said, voice low. “I shouldn’t need to remind you.”
“Thank you for coming.” Williard forced a smile in an attempt to dismiss the rider. “Kai, why don’t you check the market for ash? You’ll require more for the dragon kite.”
The apprentice shrugged and made to brush past, but a leather-clad arm stopped him.
“You’ve not greeted your princess.”
My heart seized, screaming to just let the man go. His gaze carried the weight of every failure we’d tried to solve with the treaty—the famine, the crowding, the bitterness. He blamed me.
I wasn’t ready to confront that.
Kai froze. So did Mikal.
“Pay your respects,” the rider growled.
Dragon Riders knew no more than the common folk regarding the details of what unfolded between me and Kallias.
But they served my father—loved him, were loyal to him.
Elmo answered to Argos and Kalepsi. I was the Dragon’s Heart and earned their love.
Not a single rider had ostracized me, at least not yet.
Kai’s dark eyes snapped to me, thick with hatred and heat. Dread twisted in my gut. Mikal was turning this into a spectacle, and I loathed him for it.
“Let him go.” My voice rang steady, my chin lifting a fraction under the burden of a forced smile. “I’m sure he’s in a hurry. The Awakening nears, and a missing dragon kite might be blasphemous.” I flavored it with humor, but the words burned bitter on my tongue.
That accusation in his gaze would only fester. I’d been lucky not to be caught by another commoner who hated me as deeply. He would only be the first. I had to learn to let it go.
A low snarl thundered above us. Elmo’s cry mirrored his rider’s fury, but Mikal dropped his arm. Kai dipped his chin, cut me a glare, and stormed out.
Williard heaved a sigh and settled onto the workbench. His fingers traced the kite’s frame as he shook his head. “The boy is passionate. Young.”
“Foolhardy,” Mikal spat. “Princess, perhaps you shouldn’t be outside the palace without a rider.”
I recoiled, stunned he’d suggest it. “I am among my people.” My scowl cut sharp. “I am Draconis.”
“A limited Draconis.” He grimaced, rubbing his neck.
My inability to hold magic—a subtle hint I couldn’t defend myself against a Vessel if they were to attack.
A terrifying thought.
“Tensions run high,” he continued. “So many were planning to settle on the Wild Shores with the help of Radaan—and the promises of an abundance of food—it will take time before they forget that.”
They wouldn’t. My people would never forget what I promised when I agreed to marry Tallon. And they wouldn’t brush off how I’d ruined it all.
What had he seen in Kai’s mind? In others’? How much hatred simmered beneath the surface? I trusted Mikal not to hold back from immediate threats. He’d act. But even so, the warning settled between us like smoke too thick to breathe.
“She isn’t alone,” Freya cut in. “Zane filled me yesterday. Nothing will happen to Her Highness.”
My smile wavered, but I forced my unease to roll off my shoulders.
“I didn’t come here to argue over my safety. I came to talk about kites. If you have thoughts on the subject, stay. If not…”
Mikal lifted his brows, hands raised in surrender. “No harm meant, Princess. I’ll see myself out.” He slipped through the door without another word.
When it shut, my shoulders sank. The weight of masking, of posturing, pressed in on me. I was still a princess. But pretending I was the same girl who left Draconia felt harder than climbing the Nest’s stairs.
“Come here, child.” Williard patted the bench beside him.
I crossed the room and flopped down.
“Don’t let it eat at you,” he said. “It will pass.”
“The emotions may fade, but they’ll never forget.”
He reached out, patted my hand. A rare display of affection.
“I promised them everything.” No tears came. I felt hollow. Empty. My attention drifted to Freya as she settled across from us. “A better life. A future. I returned with nothing.”
“It’s not your fault, dear.”
My eyes flew to Freya’s. Her gaze warned me to stay quiet. Radaan needed to carry the blame. No one knew the extent of my treachery.
The old man went on. “Everyone knows King Kallias attacked you.”
I stiffened. Pulled away.
He had been my mentor. My friend. A guide through my youth. I couldn’t let him assume the worst of Kallias.
Everyone pointed fingers—at him or me.
If I wanted acceptance, I had to allow Kallias to take the fall. The truth would turn them against me. They’d choose Kai’s hatred over understanding.
Flying into a storm like the first Dragon’s Heart seemed more appealing by the day.
But I couldn’t let Williard believe a lie.
“He didn’t attack me,” I whispered.
Freya’s eyes squeezed shut. Her grimace said enough.
Williard sat silent for a moment, then shifted. “Of course, dear,” he murmured.
He didn’t believe me. If I told the truth—that Kallias and I loved each other—they’d laugh. Call him a monster. Easier to cling to the story they preferred than accept what didn’t fit.
Guilt carved into my chest like a dragon’s claw.
Either way, I lost. Stay silent and let them believe a falsehood, or speak and be scorned all the same.
I was living a lie.