Chapter 3
“The weather today is lovely, Sir Levin,” I said, my hands clasped demurely in front of me. I resisted the urge to fidget with the blue fabric of my dress. “It would be perfect for a ride. We have forest trails the horses particularly enjoy.”
Sir Levin, a fae lord from the Sea Court, wrinkled his nose, his thick brown mustache quivering with the motion. We sat in the receiving room in the castle, sitting on opposite sofas with a tray of tea and scones on the table between us. The wide octagonal window next to us boasted a view of lush green pine trees and rolling hills. I ached to be outside to enjoy it.
“Ah, no,” Sir Levin said. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a rider. And all these trees make my nose itch.” He sniffed as if to emphasize the point.
My eyebrows lifted. “You… do not like trees?”
“Well, not pine trees. From my court, we are accustomed to beech trees and palm trees. Much less stuffy.”
I forced a smile. “I see.”
He was not the only noble to complain about our woodsy terrain. And he certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“We do have the Jewel River that winds through our forests,” I continued. “You would be surprised how cool the air is there. And the pebbles at the bottom of the river glisten like jewels, which gives the river its namesake. Would you like to see?”
Sir Levin grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of your dragons.”
I stiffened. “Dragons?”
Sir Levin’s dark eyes lit up with excitement, nearly bulging from his rotund face. “Yes, they are legendary! I hear you have one that is the size of this castle!”
“My dragons are not an attraction for public display, Sir Levin,” I said coldly. “And at this time of year, many of them are hibernating and wish to not be disturbed.”
“Ah, yes. I understand. But… surely you have one or two I could sneak a peek at? A union between our courts could bring great things to both kingdoms. I would have to be comfortable around the dragons eventually.”
I lifted my chin. “You speak as if our negotiations are complete, Sir Levin. I must remind you that nothing official has yet been decided.”
His face reddened, and he scraped a hand through his short cropped black hair. “Forgive me. You are right, of course. Well, perhaps you can return to your embroidery and I can speak with King Stefan instead?”
My eyes narrowed. “The king is otherwise engaged. As you may have heard, he is abdicating to me in a few days. So whatever you need to speak with him about, you can discuss it now. With me.” I offered a humorless smile.
Sir Levin fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Ah. Right. Of course. Well…”
I raised my eyebrows expectantly, waiting.
“I merely… wished to discuss commerce,” Sir Levin mumbled after a moment. “The treasury and tithes and other financial decisions your kingdom makes. Surely a dull topic for a lady like yourself to worry about.”
“Our lumber mills provide our main source of revenue,” I said, my voice brisk. “We keep them well maintained and staffed throughout the year. We do not take tithes from our people, but we do tax them, which pays a comfortable wage for our soldiers and armies, should we have need of them. As of right now, our people live well and have few complaints.” I cocked my head at him. “What specific financial questions did you have, Sir Levin?”
His cheeks turned even redder, making his round face look very much like a ripe tomato. He stammered something incoherent about conversing with women, and I’d had enough .
My hands fell on my thighs and I fixed him with a glare. “If you are not here to converse with women , as you say, then why are you here, Sir Levin? Merely to gawk at our dragons? To size them up for your own use? I was under the impression you wanted to get to know me to see if a union between our courts would be amenable. But I am sorry to say I am not impressed in the slightest. May I recommend, in the future, that should you seek the hand of a bride, you should show an interest in her and not her assets? Oh, and be sure not to belittle her with talk of embroidery and the assumption that financial discussions are too complex for her fragile mind to understand.”
I stood and smoothed my palms along my skirts. “Captain Huxley will show you out. Good day to you.”
Sir Levin babbled something that sounded like an apology, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I’d swept from the room before he could even rise from his seat. My steps were quick and purposeful as I made my way down the hall and toward the staircase.
“Aurelia?”
I stopped with my hand on the bannister, turning to find Mother emerging from the opposite hall. She glanced from me to the receiving room, a question in her blue eyes. “Where is Sir Levin?”
“I dismissed him,” I said shortly.
Mother huffed a laugh. “Burning suns, Aurelia, you have to make a match eventually. You can’t dismiss everyone simply because they look silly when they chew.”
“Sir Belefort’s beard was oozing with stew! It was repulsive.”
Mother leveled a hard stare at me. “Aurelia. Be reasonable.”
“I don’t see why I must choose a husband now. Surely, it can wait.”
“Surely not. The instant you take the throne, you will be targeted as a young and naive monarch. You need a strong and capable king to rule by your side, and a kingdom to ally with. I am sad to say we have few allies because…” She trailed off, her lips clamping together.
“Because of what?” I prompted, my eyes narrowing.
“Because of how sensitive you are about the dragons.”
My head reared back. “You would prefer we trade the dragons like… like cattle ? They will be weaponized! Enslaved. Tortured for sport!”
Mother sighed and waved a gloved hand. “You don’t know that. And it’s careless of you to assume as much without even being willing to negotiate about it. What if there is a court out there who would treat the dragons with as much care and kindness as you? But you refuse to see it because you won’t even entertain the idea, Aurelia. You must think of our kingdom and our people as you do the dragons. They are not your subjects. And when you take the throne, you will have an entire population to consider.”
“I know that,” I snapped.
“Do you?” Mother stepped closer, her blue eyes flaring wide. “Your father did not make this decision lightly, Aurelia. But if you prove to us you are not ready, then we will delay the abdication. Show me you will sacrifice for this kingdom.”
“Sacrifice the dragons?” I asked, my heart plummeting to my stomach. If Mother forced me to choose between the dragons and the throne, I wasn’t sure what I would say.
Mother sighed. “No. I’m not asking you to give them up. But please be more open. It is natural for other kingdoms to be curious about them. Surely, there is no harm in showing them to your suitors? You did say that a dragon is the best judge of character. Perhaps they can help you make your decision.” A small smile lit her face.
I opened my mouth to object, but before I could, a figure bounded toward us, her tight blond curls bouncing with the movement. “I saw Sir Levin leaving in a carriage,” said Gigi, my younger sister. “That must have been less than five minutes. A record for you, Aurie!”
“Hush, Giselle,” Mother chastened. “It’s no laughing matter.”
“It is a bit of a laughing matter,” Gigi protested. “The man looked like a walrus.”
I snorted, then covered my mouth as Gigi’s giggles rang in the hallway. Mother swatted at her arm, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“And what does your ideal suitor look like, Gigi?” I questioned. She was sixteen, and it wouldn’t be long before she would be looking for a match, too .
Gigi stroked her chin in contemplation. “Well, he must be handsome. If he looks anything like a walrus, I will turn him away at once. He must also have a sense of adventure. And he must be kind to animals.”
I gestured to Gigi with a pointed look at my mother. “I have similar requirements. Although it isn’t necessary for him to be handsome.”
Gigi elbowed me. “But it would be nice, yes?”
Ignoring her, I turned to Mother. “Sir Levin was complaining of our pine trees and refused my offer to go riding. And I saw the greed in his eyes when he asked of the dragons. It was not out of curiosity or kindness. It was purely for his own gain.”
Mother cast her gaze to the ceiling as if praying for strength. “And you are using your sister’s judgment as your defense?”
“I resent the implication that my judgment cannot be trusted,” Gigi said with a huff.
“I am merely stating that regardless of my… overprotective tendencies toward the dragons, Sir Levin was not an ideal match. But I promise that, in the future, I will try to be more open to others.” I nodded to reassure myself I could do this.
When the next suitor asked about the dragons, I would not downright refuse. I would entertain the idea.
If only for a moment.
Desperate to escape after Sir Levin’s departure, I decided to forego wearing my riding leathers. It wouldn’t be as comfortable, but at least I was wearing a simple cotton dress instead of a stiff ballgown. It had been days since I’d taken Mal riding, and I knew he was restless.
He wasn’t the only one.
I was making my way to the entrance doors when I rounded a corner and ran straight into Father. He grunted, and I stumbled backward, barely catching myself before falling over. With a sniff, he adjusted his royal blue tunic, surveying me with irritation brimming in his dark eyes .
“I know I taught you better than that, Aurelia,” he said. “Do watch where you’re going.”
“Pardon me, Father.” I bowed my head submissively.
He sighed. “Why are you in such a hurry? Aren’t you meeting a suitor today?”
Gods, the last thing I needed was another reprimand for turning Sir Levin away. I cleared my throat. “He… left. Sir Levin did not stay long. I don’t think he likes our court very much.”
All true.
Father arched a single doubtful eyebrow, and I resisted the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. He was far more stern than Mother, and I always had the sense that I never lived up to his expectations, especially as next in line for the throne.
To convince him to abdicate to me had not been an easy feat. And every day, I held my breath, expecting him to change his mind and keep the crown from me.
“Things were much simpler when you were engaged to the Autumn Prince,” Father said with a scowl.
I stiffened, trying not to dwell on what had transpired between me and the Autumn Prince. Those were memories I actively strived to forget.
But our engagement had been broken. I would never marry him, no matter what.
“You have a sacred responsibility to this kingdom, Aurelia.” Father’s voice was low and grave.
“I know that,” I said quickly.
“Do you?” he challenged. “Because I often feel you are more concerned with prancing through the forest than running the kingdom.”
Prancing. I bit back my ire and said in a steady voice, “I do care about running the kingdom, Father. I assure you. I am taking this seriously. If you have something pressing I must attend to, I will, of course, see to it.”
I stood straight, hands clasped in front of me, eyeing him expectantly. Inside, my chest coiled with a tightness that longed to be loosed, to be freed in a way that only flying through the sky could accomplish .
But I wasn’t lying. If Father had need of me, I would force down the urge to ride my dragon and do what the king asked of me.
I needed to prove myself to him. I was determined to show that I could be a worthy queen.
A long, tense moment passed between us. Father continued to eye me with doubt and disapproval while I held perfectly still as if a predator were sniffing me.
At long last, he waved his hand. “Go. I have nothing for you. But do return quickly, will you? It is unseemly for the future queen to be roaming the woods like a hag.”
I wrinkled my nose at the word hag. Burning suns, was that really what he thought of me?
Instead of replying, I curtsied low and bustled away before he could chastise me further.
Even after I entered the nesting grounds, my insides still burned from my encounter with Father, reminding me of my constant shortcomings. But then I heard Mal’s low rumble of anticipation before I even reached the grove. I broke into a run, a smile already spreading on my face, my worries forgotten.
The moment I set foot under the canopy of trees, Mal bounded forward like a puppy, slamming into me and sending me careening toward the forest floor. His wing wrapped around me, cushioning my fall so the roots and hard earth wouldn’t scrape my elbows. I burst out laughing as we tumbled to the ground together.
“Easy there,” I said between chuckles. “If I break my neck from your violent displays of affection, we’ll never be able to go for a ride.”
Mal responded by licking my cheek. I retched, wiping the sticky saliva off my face. Dragon saliva was thick and pasty and certainly not my favorite substance to have coating my face.
“All right, let me up so I can saddle you,” I groaned, shifting against his weight still pinning me to the ground.
Mal grumbled but inched backward so I could rise.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I told him as I fetched the saddle and my riding boots from the tree hollow where I’d stashed them. I used to keep them in the stables but it was much easier to keep it among the nesting grounds. It also made for a quicker getaway when I wanted to escape my court duties. “I’ve ridden without a saddle before, and your scales hurt .”
Mal huffed and lifted his snout as if affronted by the idea that anything about him would cause me discomfort. I hauled my saddle over to him and tapped his snout lovingly.
“You’re still my favorite,” I murmured. “Don’t you worry.”
I slid off my high heels and slipped on my boots, sighing with relief at the flexible comfort of the leather compared to the tight straps I’d been wearing earlier. I hoisted the saddle atop my dragon and fastened the leather straps underneath his belly and on either side of his wings. Mal obediently knelt, lowering his head to the ground so I could climb on. With practiced ease, I swung one leg over and secured the harness around my legs and lower back to keep myself from falling mid-ride.
“To the skies, my friend,” I said, patting the side of his long neck.
With an eager roar, Mal reared back on his legs and shot forward. We started at a gallop, the ride much bumpier than any horse I’d ever ridden. We had to clear the grove first or risk crashing into the tree branches and shattering my skull in the process. The wind whipped at my hair, tugging loose strands of hair free from my braid. I laughed, my eyes burning from the intensity of it as we darted down the path, Mal’s claws digging into the soil and leaving a spray of dust behind us.
When we cleared the grove, his wings spread on either side of me. His legs continued pumping while he flapped his wings, and slowly we rose into the air. I let out a whooping laughter as he soared higher and higher. The cloud moisture tickled my arms and face, and the air stung my eyes, but burning suns, I didn’t care at all. I felt nothing but pure, untethered freedom as we arced through the sky. My gaze fell to the treetops below. They were so small, so insignificant now.
I laughed again, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation of gliding effortlessly through the sky. I felt Mal’s low rumble of satisfaction as his pace slowed and we coasted, his wings stretched and keeping us afloat as he sliced through clouds with grace and ease.
Mal and I were one. We both yearned for the open skies, for the freedom to fly where we wished. To break free of our confinements and follow wherever the wind took us.
Nothing mattered but the open sky. Nothing but me and Mal.