2. The Time of the Dragons Has Not Passed
2. THE TIME OF THE DRAGONS HAS NOT PASSED
ELOWYN
“Are you sure this is absolutely necessary?” I asked the goblin who was currently weaving braided extensions into my already long and full hair. The extensions were a shockingly bright violet when overlapped with the midnight color of my tresses.
The goblin’s fingers, as deft as Pru’s, didn’t so much as pause in their ministrations.
“Yes, milady. If she wishes to win the Nuptialis Probatio, she’ll need to look her best.”
“What’s wrong with my natural hair?” Wrapped in only a silk robe, I studied my reflection in the vanity mirror. My attendant had insisted we begin with the hairstyling.
The goblin pursed her lips and began twisting my locks—extensions included—into some sort of updo I couldn’t yet guess at. “Does milady wish to win or not?”
I frowned then tsked at her in response.
A pair of goblins had whisked into my chambers long before Rush and I were ready to part. Rush’s goblin, a male known as Horst—now that Rush had finally asked his name—all but ran into the bathing chamber to haul him out of the bath. After Horst had announced that “Her Majesty” had summoned Rush to her private chambers, where my mate was to meet with her before the official commencement of the Nuptialis Probatio, Rush had sped away with barely a kiss and a hurried reassurance that everything would be all right.
With him off to meet with Her Horrid Awfulness, I didn’t believe him.
Exhaling loudly, I redirected my thoughts to more productive considerations. Fear of the queen and whatever wicked plan she might have engineered this time would only undermine the strength I’d need to get through this second stage of the trials.
“Of course I want to win,” I eventually told the goblin, who’d refused to share her name, slightly horrified that a lady should consider that level of familiarity with the palace’s servants. “I must win.”
“Then milady shouldn’t complain so much as I prepare her to look her best for the competition.”
The goblin’s rounded ears, dingy frock, and bare legs told me she was a female. Her bossy, biting remarks suggested that perhaps all female goblins had some fire to them, concealed just below the surface so the queen wouldn’t punish them for it. And every single interaction with the nameless she-goblin told me just how fucking much I missed Pru. By dragonfire, I missed her more than I’d imagined possible. Along the way, Pru had become a friend I trusted. The blood oath between us guaranteed she trusted me too. In the Mirror World, trust was a commodity more valuable than riches.
This she-goblin would probably pass out if she knew a goblin and I had merged blood to make such a pact.
I was trying my hardest not to fret over Pru’s fate—or that of Xeno, Reed, Roan, Finnian, and even the horse, Bolt. None of them had been far from my thoughts since my unexpected departure from the Wilds. Xeno and Roan were skilled warriors, and Reed and Finnian had proven highly capable through every challenge we’d faced. And Pru … well, Pru had been surviving the Sorumbra more unscathed than any of the rest of us when I last saw her.
But all it would take was one bad attack. One particularly nasty monster. One strike to the wrong part of the body … and I might not see any of them ever again.
For fuck’s sake, I’d left them all facing off a ginormous and unfamiliar dragon . When even a smaller one was formidable enough to wipe them all out in a single fiery blaze of dragon’s breath. For all I knew, the lot of them might already be dead. The dragon might have killed them moments after the magic of the Fae Heir Trials dragged me to the throne room against my will.
It seemed I only ever arrived at the palace without my consent…
The she-goblin’s stare fixed on me through the mirror, and I finally noticed, dragging my gaze to hers in the reflection.
“Milady is distracted,” she observed.
I scowled but eventually nodded.
“Milady shouldn’t be distracted, not if she wants to win. Not if she wants to keep her head.”
I sighed, then reined in my worries. I knew better. They were a waste of my energy when I should instead be plotting against the queen.
If only I could see the path that would deliver me from this moment to seeing the queen’s head separated from her body, spurting blood. For the first time since landing in Embermere, I’d be able to appreciate the sunshine out of a good execution.
The goblin was affixing pins that glittered with amethyst gems to the coronet of hair that wrapped the crown of my head.
“At least there won’t be actual decapitations at this trial,” I told her. “It’s not enough to feel safe, but it’s something.”
The goblin merely hmmed . When I attempted to meet her eyes through the mirror, she fixed her attention on my updo.
“ Goblin ,” I pressed. “What is it?”
She patted my hair, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement that suggested I was wearing a crown when I wasn’t. If it had been Pru, I would have assumed she’d chosen this hairdo to insinuate I was the only one deserving to be crown princess. With this goblin, I couldn’t be sure .
Instead of replying, when even with how new I was to the ways of court I understood the servants were required to answer their charges, she plodded over to the armoire with the familiar flopping of dragon-like feet that made my heart pang with more thoughts of Pru. The she-goblin busied herself choosing my jewelry—a matching set of shiny yellow gold and amethyst gems the size of my fingertips—earrings, ring, and necklace.
“Goblin?”
Still avoiding my eyes, she returned to stand behind me. She was shorter than the already slight Pru, and had to climb onto the ready stepstool to drape the necklace around my neck.
“Shouldn’t you be putting on the jewelry after I’m dressed?” I asked, eyeing her curiously, perhaps even suspiciously.
Her eyes widened as her stare snapped to mine. She fumbled to undo the clasp she’d just secured.
“Yes, yes, of course, milady.”
Before she could hop down from the stool to stow the necklace or whatever other action she might use as an excuse to avoid me, I spun and caught her hand.
Her dark, pupil-less eyes only widened all the more as she studied where our skin touched. Much like Pru’s, hers was ashen compared to the healthy sun-kissed tone of mine.
“What’s going on?” I asked, calming my tone despite my impatience—despite my urgent need for real answers in this forsaken place where fae were likely to tell you a dozen lies before they’d utter a single truth.
The she-goblin blinked repeatedly, her eyes glimmering. Were those … tears she was keeping at bay?
Gently, I squeezed her hand. It was rough and callused. “You can talk to me, you know.”
She stared at me for several moments before shaking her head and pulling her hand from my grip. “I must finish readying milady. She mustn’t be late or it’ll be off with her head.”
It appeared the queen’s eagerness to behead at the slightest provocation was likely a theme with the goblins as a whole. And who could blame them?
Evenly, I said, “The magic of the trials protects me. The queen can’t kill me. Well, at least not till they’re over anyway. I’m sure she’ll be counting down the minutes till the magic’s up.” My laughter was dark.
With the she-goblin perched on the stepstool, her face lined up with mine. When she gulped, her throat visibly bobbed.
Atop my velvet stool, I slid nearer to her. Once more, she studied our closeness. This time, I didn’t touch her.
“I don’t know if Pru told any of you?—”
“Pru?”
“The goblin who attends me when she’s at court. The one who?—”
“Hasn’t returned from the Sorumbra.”
I felt my eyes grow heavier. “Yes.”
“The goblin’s name isn’t Pru. ”
My smile was soft. “I know. It’s my nickname for her.”
“Nick … name?”
“Like you, when we first met, she wouldn’t tell me her name. I refused to call her ‘goblin,’ so I chose one for her.” I shrugged, the silk of the robe almost sliding off one shoulder. “It stuck.”
“It … stuck.”
“Yes.” The goblin’s shock at one of them being treated as an individual instead of a faceless slave was yet another reason why the queen needed to die a bloody, gory, agonizing death.
“Anyway, I’m not sure if Pru shared with any of you, but I can see the queen’s spies. And there aren’t any in my chambers at the moment. So you can speak freely.”
When the she-goblin only hesitated, I added, “You can trust me. I’ll never do anything to hurt you, Pru, or any other goblin. I swear it.”
I’d believed her eyes couldn’t grow any larger. And yet somehow they did.
“You’d … swear an oath to a goblin?” Her voice was thready.
“I would and I just did.” I only abstained from sharing about the blood oath with Pru in case it might get my friend in trouble. I knew little about the workings of the court, but I understood even less about the goblins. About any of the fae creatures, really.
“What is it you know?” I asked.
First checking over either shoulder, she tipped toward me. “Milady is certain Her Majesty can’t hear us?”
“Entirely.” As soon as the reply was out of my mouth, I had to swallow a grimace. Could I ever be fully sure about anything when it came to the queen? She was more powerful than anyone else in the Mirror World.
When the she-goblin continued to hesitate, I urged, “ Please . Any help you can offer me will be so amazing. I intend to take down the queen.”
Her mouth dropped open, revealing spindly, sharp teeth.
Figuring I had nothing to lose, but everything to gain, I confessed, “I’m the secret daughter of the king and the queen’s eldest sister, Odelia.”
Her next inhale wheezed with her shock before she barely breathed, “The daughter of Odelia Catalina Corisande?”
“The very one.”
The she-goblin wrung her knobby fingers in front of her chest. “The daughter … is milady quite certain?”
“As certain as I can be given that I’ve never met my mother, yes.”
“Then…” Fervently, she nodded her head, seeming to come to some decision. “My brother attends to Lord Ivar.”
Oh, this was going to be good. I slid to the edge of my seat. “Yes?”
Knock, knock .
The she-goblin shrieked, shuffled backward, and toppled from her stepstool with another squeal while I lunged to catch her. She landed on her behind with a thump , muffled by the rug.
Immediately, I extended a hand to her. But she scuttled backward and out of reach as if my touch were contagious. After she scrambled to her floppy feet—so pointedly without my assistance—she ran across my bedchamber and through the antechamber.
Knock, knock, knock— louder this time.
She squeaked before I heard her finally pulling open the door.
Beyond startling the crap out of my would-be goblin confessor, the knocking also woke the dragonling who’d been sleeping soundly on the chaise since the night before.
He went from asleep to groggy to fully alert and whipping his head every which way, searching for me, in a matter of seconds.
While what sounded like a guard informed the goblin that “Her Majesty expects the Lady Elowyn at the Great Salon of Delicacies in twenty minutes,” Saffron leapt off the chaise, tearing into the luxurious brocade fabric— ripppppp —with his already dangerous claws. In a few loping bounds, he was on my lap, which didn’t fit him any longer, his claws snagging on my silk robe, likely ruining it as well.
Nothing at the palace was designed with dragons in mind anymore. Not since King Erasmus the Bloody had waged war on the creatures the fae had once revered and treasured .
By the time the goblin was back at my side, Saffron was wrapped around me like a snake slowly strangling its next meal.
The already nervous goblin gasped at the sight of him tangled around me. Clueless that he was being a bother—a very cute bother—Saffron dragged his rough tongue against my neck before I chuckled and pushed his face away.
“W-we must hurry,” the goblin stuttered while eyeing the little dragon.
“So I heard. With him awake, that won’t be as easy anymore. I’m going to need to leave him behind while I participate in the trials.”
As if he understood, a conclusion that was seeming more and more likely with each instance of his “coincidentally” timed reactions—the little sneaky rascal—he dug in deeper, his claws biting into my arms.
“ Owwww .” I struggled to peel his claws from my flesh. “Saff, ow , stop.”
He only burrowed his face into my chest. The robe’s two halves gaped open, and his snout burrowed between my breasts—directly over Rush’s kiss of death scar.
“Milady,” the goblin interjected in a nervous wobble, “we must hurry, hurry, hurry, or it’ll be off with both our heads.”
I no longer bothered with the argument that the queen wouldn’t be so unreasonable as to punish either of us with our freaking deaths for mere tardiness .
“Unreasonable” should be one of the bitch’s many middle names.
“Saff, come on, boy,” I cooed, running a soothing hand along his spine, between his wings. “You’ve gotta let me go.”
If anything, he tightened his hold.
“Milady—”
“ I know . Are there any goblins who are good with the dragons?” Clearly, this she-goblin wasn’t among them. “Pru’s great with him.”
“No, milady, I don’t think so.”
“Elowyn,” I said.
Her bare brow climbed her forehead. “Elowyn … what, milady?”
“Call me Elowyn.”
Almost violently, the goblin shook her head. “Oh no, milady, that wouldn’t be appropriate.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t bother insisting. Even Pru only called me by my given name maybe a third of the time.
“I have to leave him with someone,” I argued. “He’ll tear up everything in my rooms if he stays here alone.”
Worse, he’d panic, believe I’d abandoned him. He’d feel alone and unsafe when, more than ever, he needed to feel secure so he could begin healing from all the queen had subjected him to.
“There are no goblins that know the ways of dragons, milady. Not anymore. The time of the dragons has passed. ”
I stood. Saffron went with me. “The time of the dragons has not passed.”
The goblin scrunched up her features in an obvious, Just ‘cause you want something to be so doesn’t mean it is .
With sharp steps, I closed much of the distance between us until I towered over her and Saffron’s tail was within flicking distance. When she cowered, I backed up, but pinned her in my most determined, fierce stare.
“I will find a way to free the dragons. I will .”
I had no idea if she was aware dragons were prisoners several levels beneath our very feet. Either way, it made no difference.
“Now, is there someone who could fetch Drake Hiroshi Asher of Bendisantos? Rush told me he’s fond of the dragons.”
“If it means milady will allow me to get her dressed. We’re down to seventeen-and-a-half minutes, and that includes delivering her to the great salon.”
How her countdown could be so precise when there was no clock anywhere in my chambers, I had no idea. Maybe every goblin felt the closing of the queen’s deadlines like a noose tightening around their thin necks.
Already guiding Saffron to wrap around my back instead of my chest, I told her, “You can go on doing my makeup till he gets here.”
With a resolved nod, she scampered across the bedroom, through the antechamber, opened the door, urgently relayed the request to someone on the other side of it, and was back in front of me in mere seconds, brandishing an eyeshadow brush above her narrow shoulders as if it were an actual weapon.
In the royal court, where appearances were an important component of battle strategy, perhaps all the colorful artifice the little goblin insisted on brushing all over my face and décolletage was indeed a weapon.
Regardless, after a harried Hiroshi arrived to coax Saffron from my hold, and after the goblin shoved me into a dress designed for standing around looking pretty and absolutely nothing else—including deep breaths—when she wasn’t looking, I retrieved a dagger from my bedside table. It was the one I’d once pilfered from the asshole Dougal, my original abductor with enough condescending haughtiness to ensure he was memorable. I still owed him for ordering me taken, shot, and for slapping me. But if I somehow managed to overcome the trials’ no-kill order and slit the queen’s throat with his knife, then I’d call us even.
Dressed, primped, and outwardly ready to face the queen—though my intestines gurgled with my nerves—the she-goblin bustled me toward the door. I waved away her shooing hands, and turned toward Hiroshi. West and Ryder stood with him as the lavender-haired drake held Saffron propped on his hip, the man and dragon still hesitant with each other. Saffron craned his neck in my direction before extending his arms toward me.
“Four minutes,” the goblin hissed at me before tugging on my hand.
But I couldn’t leave Saffron like this. He wasn’t yet comfortable with the drake. And Hiroshi was gripping the little guy like they were strangers.
“We’ll be okay, Elowyn,” Hiroshi said with a reassuring smile. He bowed his forehead to Saffron and pointed the warm smile at him. “Won’t we, you magnificent youngling?”
When Saffron met his welcoming gaze, I slipped out the door—guard free—discovering West and Ryder trailing me, and the goblin behind them.
“How far to the great salon?” I asked over my shoulder as I began walking up the hallway.
“Five minutes,” said the goblin, her voice tight with panic.
I grimaced. “Very well, then.” Muttering under my breath, “Nothing like answering her every fucking beck and call,” I hitched up my skirts.
In high-heeled shoes that absolutely were not meant for running, I ran.