Chapter 7
I wasn’t sure what possessed me to do it.
In my upbringing, Mother had stressed again and again to never swear by my blood. The price was too great.
But the moment I saw Aurelia—helpless and panicked on the other side of the portcullis—I knew I would do anything to assist her.
Even after I found out who she really was.
I am Princess Aurelia.
My stomach had hollowed, like my insides had been jerked free of my body, leaving a shell of who I once was. This lovely young lady who had charmed me in the forest—whom I believed to be nothing more than a caretaker of dragons—was the very princess I was meant to coerce into helping me.
Seeing her disdain, her loathing and rage, was too much for me. I couldn’t bear to have her believe I was here for duplicitous purposes. That I was here only to deceive and steal from her.
Even if it was partially true.
And now, I was sitting atop a dragon—whose scales were quite sharp even through my leathers—clinging to the woman who despised me, for fear that if I let go, she and her dragon would let me fall to my death. The wind whipped around me so fiercely my eyes burned and watered. My hair flapped wildly as the dragon swooped and dived with expert precision.
Aurelia seemed relaxed in my grip, though her shoulders were set; the only betrayal of her discomfort. I wondered how often she shared her dragon with another rider .
When the dragon dipped again, my stomach roiled, and I shut my eyes, burying my face in the princess’s shoulder.
She smelled of rain and jasmine and embers.
Thinking of her, how lovely she smelled, how warm and perfect she’d felt in my arms while we danced in the forest, certainly wasn’t helping matters. But if it prevented me from vomiting all over her, then I would cling to those memories.
I groaned, and her body hummed with her laughter.
“Dragon riding isn’t for weak stomachs, I’m afraid,” she teased over her shoulder. She sounded a bit too gleeful for my liking.
“If I didn’t know any better, Your Highness, I would suggest this magnificent creature is doing this on purpose. Is it his desire for me to spew all over your fine dress?”
Aurelia snorted in amusement, but after my comment, the dragon’s ride became smoother.
Interesting. Could the beast understand me?
“May I ask where we’re going?” I said.
“To the witch clans,” Aurelia said shortly.
I stiffened, my grip tightening on her waist. “You… are on good terms with the witches here?”
Aurelia hesitated. “At times. We do not mingle often, but when we do, it is with respect.”
My eyebrows lifted. Well, that was more than I could say. I had no problem with the witches, but Mother was vehemently against the magic they practiced. As such, when I was a child, learning their runic spells had only intrigued me more simply because it was forbidden.
Mother’s hatred of witch magic had ignited my curiosity.
But she need never know just how much I had dabbled in that particular brand of magic.
“And you?” Aurelia asked. “I assume you, too, have witches in your kingdom.”
“We do,” I said carefully. “But… the royal family does not associate with them. Their magic is seen as crude and unnatural.”
Aurelia barked a laugh. “How pretentious of you.”
“I never said it was what I believe,” I shot back.
Aurelia said nothing at that.
Truth be told, the few witches I’d encountered had been kind and respectful, albeit a bit odd and unsettling. They hadn’t balked at my curiosity at all; rather, they had seemed to appreciate my probing questions.
They had even taught me how to conjure runes myself.
My curiosity got the better of me. “Do you ever… practice witch magic?”
Aurelia was silent for so long that I thought she hadn’t heard me. At long last, she said simply, “No.”
We did not speak again until the dragon descended, weaving through trees before landing atop a hill overlooking a wide valley where dozens of tents were erected. Several plumes of smoke coiled in the air, creating a collision of colors ranging from pinks and purples to gold and silver. Already, the heady smell of witch magic filled my nose, reminding me of those rebellious years in my youth when I had wanted to explore everything, even the darkest of magic.
I swallowed down my unease as Aurelia slid off the dragon’s back. “You wait here,” she ordered. “Mal will keep an eye on you.”
I huffed. “I will not .”
From beneath me, the dragon—Mal—grumbled threateningly, his back going rigid.
“Go ahead and try to eat me,” I barked at him. “But I’ll bet you aren’t too keen on the idea of your lady going into witch lands by herself with no weapons or protection.”
Aurelia rolled her eyes and slid her skirt up her leg until it reached her kneecap.
My eyes grew wide. “What the hell are you—” I faltered when she showed me the dagger sheathed at her thigh. “Well.” I shifted my weight, still atop the dragon. “That won’t do much good against their arsenal of spells.”
“What makes you think they’ll attack me?”
“I may not associate often with witches, but I know they do not take kindly to uninvited guests.”
Aurelia fell silent, and Mal pawed the ground.
“I’ll be fine,” she told him.
He continued to shift in agitation.
Testing my luck, I slid off his back, my movements far less graceful than the princess’s. I fumbled my way down and ended up on my knees, wincing from the soreness in my legs.
“I’m coming with you, Your Highness,” I insisted, rising to my feet and facing her fully.
She gritted her teeth, then glanced at the dragon behind me. Whatever she saw in his face made her groan with annoyance. “Fine. But do not address them unless you are spoken to.”
“I’ve been around witches before,” I said.
She frowned at me. “I thought you said you don’t associate with them.”
“I said I don’t often associate with them.”
Her cobalt eyes assessed me with cool calculation as she no doubt circled through my words once more, reevaluating what I’d told her.
Before she could make more assumptions about me, I strode past her, making my way down the hill toward the witches’ encampment. I heard her murmur something to the dragon before she hurried after me.