CHAPTER 30 - An Act of War
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I sat at the edge of the open balcony, legs dangling over the drop, the wind threading through my dark hair. Starscale and I often perched on this tower when we wanted a break.
But it had been nearly two months since I had flown my dragon.
Fortunately, there hadn't been any sightings since the Pyreen envoy's arrival. It seemed most of the dragons were content in entering their seasonal slumber early this year.
But Starscale was different.
Even in winter, the two of us never went this long without flying.
I clenched my hands against the damp stone, leaning forward. Below, the war gallery bustled with movement. Figures drifted around, their forms muted but unmistakable — black-clad Pyreen envoys.
The gallery doors creaked open, and the group spilled into the courtyard. I jumped up, the dawn-dyed fabric of my gossamer dress catching the breeze. My feet were bare, better for gripping stone, so I confidently darted down the winding stairwell.
Opting for familiar shortcuts, I rushed over narrow ledges and crumbling walls that even the most daring servants avoided.
Below, the Pyreen men strode purposefully toward the western gate that led into the forest beyond Stormgard Castle.
They'd been retreating into its depths far too often these days...
What were they up to out there?
I crept closer, clinging to the shadowed edge of a crumbling tower near the gate.
From my current perch, I could hear their voices rising sharply.
As always, the tall one with the piercing amber eyes commanded the center of attention.
Lord Azreen. He loomed beside the squat little prince, almost twice his size.
I smirked to myself.
He was probably the prince's wetnurse.
Suppressing a giggle, I watched their brief exchange before the two parted ways. Lord Azreen headed back toward the castle while Prince Malrik turned toward the gate alone.
I smiled.
With quiet precision, I scaled lower, each movement easy and practiced. As the prince passed beneath me, unaware of my presence, I leapt.
The air rushed around me as I descended, my dress flaring out dramatically. In the blink of an eye, I landed before the prince without even losing my balance.
The boy instantly stumbled back, his fiery eyes wide with shock.
"What the—!" His voice cracked, his hand flying to the hilt of his obsidian sword.
I grinned as I stood with my hands on my hips.
"What? Did I scare the little prince?"
His eyes, closer to bronze than gold, narrowed sharply.
"You should speak more kindly to me, child! It is your family that proposed this arrangement. What kind of princess jumps from towers like a common rogue?"
I scoffed, folding my arms.
"What? You're supposed to be some great warrior, but you couldn't even see me coming? Ha! I thought someone as short as you would be used to looking up for potential attacks."
"Stop calling me short!" His ears darkened as a flush crept across his face. "Men from Pyree grow taller than anyone else!"
I smirked, turning and strolling down the mist-laden path to the forest.
"Sure, sure. Tell me that after you can reach my chin, little prince."
The sound of his boots stomping against stone echoed behind me as he followed.
"And what about you!" he barked. "What kind of princess flashes her drawers at someone?"
I froze mid-step, spinning around so fast I nearly lost my footing. My face burned as his words sank in.
"W-what are you talking about? I don't flash my drawers!"
"Ha!" He crossed his arms smugly, his lips curling into a grin. "They're pink. Like your ridiculous dress."
My face flared hotter than dragon breath as realization struck. Jumping down must have exposed far more of my skirts than I'd anticipated.
"You— You're not a prince! You're a filthy pervert!" I yelled, kicking a nearby rock straight at his shin.
He let out a strangled yelp, stumbling back. Satisfied, I whirled around and stomped further down the path.
The clouds thinned, their edges dissolving into mist that swirled around us.
"That! That is an act of war!" he said, following after me.
"Then declare it!" I called over my shoulder.
"Apologize right now, or I will burn your kingdom to the ground!"
I spun around just long enough to stick my tongue out at him before continuing on.
"You! I'm serious!" he yelled.
"Oh, I'm terrified," I mocked. "Terrified of a kid who needs a ladder to get on a horse!"
"I don't need a ladder!" he snapped.
I snickered under my breath.
He'd never survive mounting a dragon.
Malrik's bickering followed me all the way to the forest's edge. The air grew darker beneath the canopy, the clouds above thickening. I stopped and planted my hands on my hips, turning to face him.
"So, what were you and your entourage talking about in the war gallery?"
He raised a dark brow.
"It's a war chamber, not a gallery, you child."
I rolled my eyes. Everyone in the castle called it the gallery — it was hardly ever used for anything serious. Just mostly décor at this point.
"Whatever. What were you talking about there?"
Malrik turned on his heel, striding into the forest with the air of someone far too self-assured for his stature.
"It's not for children like you to know," he said smugly.
I followed, narrowing my eyes.
"Hey, then why were you there? I'm older than you!"
He shot a glare over his shoulder.
"I was trying to find an alternative to marrying the likes of you."
I barked a laugh.
"Good! At least we agree on something. I have no intention of marrying some short-tempered child."
His glare darkened.
"Well, your sister is unfortunately out of the question — she's meant to inherit the throne and cannot leave. And the other is already married. Unless I evoke my bride-taking right, that leaves me with no options."
He kicked at loose pebbles as he walked.
I stopped short.
"Wait. You'd rather marry Claude? She's twice your age!"
"That doesn't matter," he snapped. "I only care about what was promised. Your sister swore the strength of the storm sword to Pyree for our coming wars. I don't care who I have to marry to claim it. So long as it's not you."
His words stung more than I cared to admit.
"And what's so terrible about me?"
He scoffed, barely sparing me a glance.
"I hate people like you. Useless. No skills. No talents. Where I'm from, even women know how to wield a sword. But you? I've seen you do nothing but laze around all day. You're just a pretty face. Nothing more."
I froze, then grinned.
"So, you think I'm pretty?"
That hit a nerve.
He spun around so fast his fur cloak snapped in the air.
"I didn't mean it like that!"
"But you said it!" I laughed, tossing my dark hair over my shoulder and holding my chin high as I strode past him. "You think I'm pretty, little prince. Though I'm flattered, I cannot return your feelings. You're far too young."
"You— Stop twisting my words!" His voice rose, raw with frustration. "I meant you're useless! You don't do anything but sit around like some pampered doll."
I stopped and turned.
"I do have talents!" I snapped. "I'm the best—"
But the words caught in my throat.
I couldn't say it. Not without exposing Drakfjord's biggest secret.
Malrik raised a brow, his smirk returning.
"The best what? Flasher?"
My eyes widened in fury, and I snatched a stick off the ground, hurling it at him. But before it could strike, his obsidian blade flashed, slicing it in half.
"That's the second act of war today!" he said.
"Only a child would deem a stick an act of war," I shot back. "Careful, little prince. You're so tiny, it might crush you."
I turned on my heel and marched down the path, seething. Behind me, his boots crunched against the ground as he followed.
"I would never get crushed!" he barked. "I've been in fourteen battles already! Led five of them myself. And I won every single one!"
I snorted, not bothering to look back.
"Wow. Did you get your afternoon naps while the real warriors fought?"
He stormed past me, planting himself in my path. His sword gleamed in the faint light as he pointed it directly at me.
"You think you could do better?"
I smirked, leaning forward slightly.
"I could crush you in a heartbeat."
His eyes burned at the challenge.
"And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
Frustration bubbled beneath my skin. Starscale's name was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it back.
Malrik tilted his head, shadows from the trees cutting across his dark skin, making the molten glow of his eyes all the more intense.
"No answer? Typical." He chuckled darkly. "I heard your eldest sister is a skilled warrior while the other is a masterful dancer. But you? You're just a girl who likes to play dress-up."
My teeth ground together, and my fists trembled at my sides. The thought of his smug grin shattering into terror at the sight of Starscale flickered in my mind.
"I have talent," I gritted out. "But if I showed you, I'd have to kill you."
He laughed, the sound grating against my nerves like talons on stone.
"Oh, I agree! Being this annoying is a real talent."
That was it.
Before I could think better of it, I lunged. His surprise was exquisite, his laughter strangling into a sharp gasp as I drove him to the cold ground. His obsidian blade clattered away uselessly.
I wasn't Claude, a master of swordplay, but I'd endured enough of her lessons to at least know how to defend myself.
"Ack! I'll kill you!" Malrik's voice rasped, strangled and furious, as he thrashed beneath me like a caught fox.
I tightened my hold, my legs coiling around his torso. My dawn-dyed gown tangled around my knees, the fabric snagging on jagged stone, but it didn't matter.
"Let go! Let go, or I'll really hurt you!" he barked, the words strangled as I cut off his air.
"Say you're sorry!" I snarled while keeping his head tightly locked.
"For what?" he croaked, clawing at my arms, his strength ebbing with every passing second.
"For what you said!"
His struggles slowed, his bronze eyes narrowing even as his face turned pale.
"I'm sorry..." he rasped, "that you're so annoying!"
I squeezed harder.
"You should learn to respect your elders!" I hissed.
His short legs kicked wildly, his fury burning, but his attempts to break free were pitiful. He wasn't as big as Claude and my height advantage rendered him useless.
Then, a voice suddenly cut through the air.
"My prince!"
I froze, my grip loosening. Turning, I cursed under my breath.
Lord Azreen.
The tall Pyreen warrior strode toward us, his black cloak trimmed with bronze, his expression a blend of horror and reproach.
I released Malrik and rose, brushing dirt and leaves from my skirts. Malrik scrambled up as well, snatching his blade and pointing it at me.
"I'll have your hands cut off for that!" he snarled.
"Prince Malrik! Sheathe your weapon," Azreen commanded. He closed the distance, his golden eyes flickering between us.
"She attacked me!" Malrik spat.
Azreen's lips twitched into something like a smirk, though his voice remained level.
"And do you not feel shame, my prince, for being subdued by a girl?"
Malrik's eyes went wide, fury and humiliation flushing his face.
"What? You'd rather I snap her neck?" he asked. "I could have gotten free easily, but I'm not allowed to hurt her!"
Azreen sighed, his expression hardening.
"Then learn to control your strength, my prince. And pick your battles wisely." He turned to me with a curt bow. "My apologies if my prince has offended you."
I crossed my arms, glaring at Malrik.
"I want him to apologize."
Malrik's fists clenched, his teeth grinding audibly.
"As if I would stoop so low!"
"Prince, apologize," Azreen said.
Malrik shook his head stubbornly, standing his ground.
"I've killed men for less, and now I must apologize? Never."
I smirked, my chin lifting.
"I won't marry anyone who can't apologize."
Azreen's composed mask cracked, his dark features ashen. Malrik, however, grinned — a feral sort of smile.
"Fine by me!" he laughed. "I'll be returning to Pyree in the morning. And when I come back, it'll be with a fleet and my nephew's flame sword. I'll burn this miserable island and sink it into the sea."
With that, he stormed off.
Azreen hesitated, glancing between us.
"Princess, forgive him," he said, his voice subdued. "He has spent more years on a battlefield than in a court. His manners are..." He trailed off, sighing heavily before following after Malrik.
"Prince! You cannot reject the proposal so brazenly! Think of the wars..."
Their voices faded as they returned to Stormgard Castle.
I stood alone, arms crossed over my chest as the tension in my body began to unravel.
Claude would have my head for this.
Sighing, I walked deeper into the woods. The wind clawed at my sleeves, and the distant roar of the sea grew louder as I neared the cliffs, their jagged edges jutting like broken teeth into the horizon.
The beach stretched out before me — nothing but gray stone and bitter salt beneath a sky swollen with rain that refused to fall. Waves gnawed restlessly at the shore, cold and constant, and I could taste winter's approach in the air.
I hated winter.
The dragons grew sluggish with the cold, curling into themselves to sleep away the dark months.
Should I run away?
I knew one whistle was all it would take. Starscale would come tearing from the clouds, wings wide, white scales flashing like lightning. We could leave everything behind. Fly until there was nothing but the two of us.
No...
I had made a promise to my sisters. I just wished my betrothed wasn't such an insufferable little rat...
My shoulders sagged. Guilt coiled in my chest as I made the long climb back to the castle, taking all the familiar shortcuts until I was back in my room.
But I wasn't alone.
Claude sat on my bed, waiting. She smiled softly, almost sadly, and patted the spot beside her. Wordlessly, I padded over and sat with my legs together, my fingers knotting in my lap.
"I heard you clashed with Prince Malrik again," she said.
"Hmph. He's so rude," I replied.
In my sister's hands, she held a storm-forged dagger. I recognised it as one of the daggers Raine liked to practise with. She'd conjure the most beautiful mist while dancing with it.
Claude ran her thumb over the dark, intricate hilt.
"He wants to end the marriage negotiations," she said.
"Good," I muttered. "We don't need him."
Claude's steely gaze flicked toward me.
"We need Pyree."
"We don't need anyone," I countered. "Even if Pyree turns on us. Even if Thornmont marches. No one can take this island. Our dragons would reduce their fleets to splinters before they ever reached the shore—"
"Our people are already on the edge of ruin, Skye," Claude cut me off.
"It's not always a direct assault we must fear.
Isolation will damn us. No fruit from Bludverdii.
No jewels from Sahra'khal. No silks from Driftwoode.
We're already so poor from limited trade.
.. If Fayndor belongs to Thornmont, we're done. "
I looked down at my gown, the rich fabric suddenly heavy against my skin.
"I don't want to lose my dresses," I whispered.
Claude's lips almost twitched into a smile, but her eyes remained grim.
"There's something else."
I straightened.
"What?"
She reached into her tunic and pulled out a folded parchment.
"A letter from Raine," she said. "She's urging us to secure the alliance.
Thornmont marches on Driftwoode in spring.
If they take it, Drakfjord will be next.
They'll take our island to gain a foothold over Pyree.
Without allies, we'll fall, Skye. We need Pyree to march to Driftwoode's aid.
Or war will come for our shores. And our dragons will be the ones to pay the price. "
My breath caught. My lip trembled.
"It's too much," I choked, tears slipping down my cheeks. "Why must it all fall on me?"
Claude's expression sharpened.
"We all have a role to play," she said, steel in her voice. "Our sister risked everything sending this letter. If Thornmont discovers it, she'll be executed. Do you understand? Raine will die."
My mouth parted.
I hadn't realized...
"I want to bring Raine home as soon as possible," Claude said softly. "That's why I agreed to Pyree's terms. I'll march with them in spring. And I'll wield Fjulgor in Father's place. All you must do is marry the Pyreen prince... Just for now. You can divorce him when it's over."
I lowered my gaze, shame churning my stomach.
Compared to my sisters, I had it much easier, but...
"It's still not easy..." I murmured.
"There's one more thing," Claude added, handing me the parchment with a faint smirk. "Read the last part."
My brow furrowed as I scanned the final lines of Raine's letter.
The words held me still.
Raine... She'd always been proud of me. While Claude scolded my reckless flights, Raine had laughed and cheered.
Even now, she still believed in me...
"...He's no dragon," I whispered, a short laugh slipping out. "But I suppose I could try my hand at training a little rat."
Claude smiled.
"There she is."
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