Chapter 28 #2
“That’s Lord Mirador for you,” a male courtier shouted, leaning in his chair like he aimed for a better look. “Three glasses of blood-wine, and he goes straight for the source like he’s a babe on his mother’s tit.”
“What do you mean, babe ?” another man asked. “I saw Mirador sucking on his bitch of a mother at a party two nights ago!”
The courtiers roared. Rasimir smiled over his glass of blood-wine.
Mirador yanked his fangs from his companion’s breast, flipped her around, and shoved her over the table.
She squealed, her fangs stained with red paint from her lips, and then moaned as he tossed up her skirts.
Blood seeped from the punctures on her breast as Mirador fumbled with the laces of his trousers.
The first courtier pulled a jeweled ring off his finger and sent it skidding across the table. “I say she comes in under a minute.”
“Please,” the second man scoffed. He twisted a ring from his pinky and flipped it onto the table. “Three minutes, at least.”
The woman reached out and snagged both rings. “You forfeit your gold, gentlemen,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll come much faster than that.” Lifting onto an elbow, she plunged a hand between her legs.
The courtiers roared. Rasimir joined them, his fangs glinting as he raised his glass toward the woman. Mirador won his struggle with his trousers and freed his cock. The table rocked as he entered the woman and began to thrust.
Lorcan pushed back his chair and extended a hand to me. “Princess.”
I let him help me to my feet, and I held my breath as we made our way to the door, the courtiers’ cheers and laughter echoing off the walls. We were almost through the doorway when Rasimir’s voice cut through the noise.
“You leave without acknowledging your king, Daughter?”
I froze. Lorcan froze with me, and his voice was low in my head.
He’ll try to embarrass you. Meet it with laughter.
Slowly I faced Rasimir and then sank into a deep curtsy. “Apologies, Father. I didn’t want to disturb your meal.”
Rasimir gestured to the thrusting Mirador. “Or perhaps you were inspired, and now you’re eager to get to your own feast?”
Humiliation seared my face as the whole table laughed. Several courtiers perked up, eagerness in their eyes as they looked from Rasimir to me. They wanted me to react with anger, I realized. They spoiled for Rasimir’s retaliation. More entertainment. More revelry at my expense.
Mindful of Lorcan’s warning, I let a smile curve my lips as I straightened. “I can’t deny it, Majesty.” I curled my arm around Lorcan’s and inclined my head. “You’ve been generous in choosing my groom. I look forward to enjoying him.”
The dining room quieted, the only sound the rhythmic squeak of the table as Mirador remained oblivious to the tense exchange happening around him.
For a second, malice glittered in Rasimir’s eyes. Then he raised his glass. “Go to it then, Daughter, and may your union be fruitful. We’re impatient for another heir.”
Smile fixed in place, I bobbed a deeper curtsy. Then I turned with Lorcan and left the dining room—and my father’s unmistakable threat—behind.
W hen we entered Lorcan’s chamber, the bed glowed a soft, pale blue.
He pulled me to it at once, and a smile touched his lips as we stepped into the ward. “A gift from Vander.”
My heart flipped over. “It’s perfect.” The blue glow spread over the spacious chamber, which was as austere as Lorcan.
Dark curtains framed large windows. Matching panels descended from the four corners of the bed’s canopy.
Simple but elegant furniture in rich, dark wood spread throughout the room.
Plush sofas and tall bookcases were visible through an open doorway on the other side of the chamber.
Lorcan touched my chin. “Rasimir dishonored you downstairs. When this is over, and he’s dead, you’ll never suffer such dishonor again.”
I pushed the scenes from the dining room out of my mind. “He dishonored himself.”
Approval moved through Lorcan’s eyes. At the same moment, a flash of red drew my gaze down. The dragonstones around my waist pulsed like a slow heartbeat. When I looked up, Lorcan watched me.
“Will you tell me about Nymruk?” I whispered.
His lips parted, a shaky breath easing between them. “It’s a long story. We’ll be more comfortable on the bed.” His swallow was audible in the hushed room. “If that’s all right with you.”
We lay facing each other on the pillows, both of us fully clothed except for our shoes, which we kicked off before climbing on top of the blankets. Lorcan’s boots thumped to the floor, and he grinned at me when they landed inside the ward instead of bouncing over it.
“Got lucky,” he said.
“You’re sure no one will hear us?” I asked, glancing at the door.
He tucked his arm under his head. “Vander’s wards are solid.”
I settled more deeply into the pillow that smelled like soap and spice. “Tell me what it was like to fly, Your Grace.”
Lorcan’s long lashes swept his cheeks. “I was the youngest dragon rider in recorded history. In Drachvi, nobles and commoners alike can be fireborn. The gift flows in blood, not names.”
“And it flowed thick in you,” I said.
He kept his eyes downcast. “The dragons could shape-shift, even taking a man’s form for short periods of time.
They could speak telepathically, but only among themselves and in their rider’s mind.
The bond between dragon and rider is unique in all of Nocta.
” His lashes swept up, his dark eyes meeting mine.
“Was unique,” he corrected. “The dragons are dead. Nymruk was the last of his kind.”
I found his hand on the blanket between us. “Why did Nymruk burn you?”
“A dragon rider’s robes are part ceremonial, part practical. We soak them in blood and ash and then infuse them with magic. Even the best riders catch a lick of fire from time to time. The robes protect the skin from blistering.”
The memory of Iggleboddle summoning crimson fabric formed in my head… I’ll wear my own robe , Lorcan had said, his tone uncompromising.
“Drachvi was the last part of Nocta to fall,” Lorcan said.
“I was prepared to fall with it. My people were being slaughtered. The dragons were almost gone. By the time he turned his sights to us, Rasimir had been hunting and draining witches for centuries. He fought with vor s, and we fought with swords and the Matasi .” Lorcan made a soft, negative sound.
“The knights from the Drakhold laughed at us.”
My heart ached, and my voice was low as I said, “I saw vampires with solid black eyes in the vision.”
Lorcan nodded. “Rasimir wasn’t lying when he told you others among his court have stolen magic through dead blood. Dozens have managed it over the years. But none have lasted very long. They lose their minds, and Rasimir is forced to kill them.”
“But not you,” I said.
He held my gaze. “I had Vander.”
Gratitude—and another, more tentative emotion—swelled my chest. “I guess he’s not so bad.”
Lorcan gave a crack of genuine laughter, the sound deep and rusty, like he never used it. Which he didn’t, I realized. He had little to laugh about in the Drakhold.
Then again, he came from a people who prized control. They had to. Losing it meant plummeting thousands of feet or roasting in a plume of fire.
“You asked why Nymruk burned me,” Lorcan said, sobering.
“The night before I battled Rasimir for the last time, Nym and I agreed that he would flee the field if I died. We believed there was a good chance his mate was still alive and in hiding. As the last two dragons, they had a duty to preserve the race.”
Dread gathered under my heart. I’d seen how the story ended, but knowing didn’t make things any easier.
“Nym was badly wounded,” Lorcan said. “But he could still fly, so I dismounted and told him to go. As I headed toward the battlefield, he ripped away my robes.” Lorcan’s brow furrowed, and his voice went tight. “It should have been impossible.”
“Why?” I rasped.
“When a rider and dragon bond, they vow that only betrayal will separate them. These vows aren’t just words, Corinthe. Once bonded, a rider and his dragon can’t kill each other without a betrayal severing their bond. Nym shouldn’t have been able to burn me.”
“But he did,” I whispered, the vision of Lorcan’s agonized face flashing in my head.
“He meant to kill me,” Lorcan said. “And he didn’t stop trying until I killed him.”
I covered my mouth with my free hand. “Lorcan…”
“I know why he did it,” Lorcan murmured, “even if I don’t understand how he did it. Rasimir saw everything. Nym made sure of it. The second Nym burned me, he signaled to the whole world that I’d broken our bond. But he didn’t need to tell the world.”
“Just Rasimir,” I said, lowering my hand.
Lorcan gave a solemn nod. “The King of the Drachvi killed the last dragon in the world. Rasimir believed I had betrayed my bonded dragon to save my own neck. It was the only thing that could have persuaded him to trust me.”
But Lorcan had lost Nymruk—and his crown. At the ball, the Drachvi had turned their backs as Lorcan and I twirled past them.
“Ask your question,” Lorcan said softly.
No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t muster a smile at his teasing. “Why do your people dislike you?”
“They’re proud,” he said, his dark eyes steady. “They saw the final battle, too. They never would have stopped trying to avenge me. One of the first witches I drained possessed dismenti . I used it on every Drachvi I could find, erasing Nym’s actions from their minds.”
I knew my eyes were wide. “And you can’t reverse it.”
He shook his head. “Other vor s can be broken by the spellcaster’s death.
But the three irreversible vor s are just that—permanent.
My people believe I’m a coward who surrendered my crown and murdered the last dragon.
It keeps them safe. That’s all I ever wanted.
I failed as a king. But I succeeded in that. ”