Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

I wake up to something I haven't smelled in years.

Pancakes.

The scent teases my senses the moment I open my eyes the next morning. My mouth instantly waters, as if recalling what they used to taste like, a mere flicker of my childhood before it was taken from me.

I reach for the breakfast tray on my nightstand and carefully place it beside me on the bed. The pancakes are fluffy like clouds and drenched in maple syrup. My eyes all but water as I rush to cut a bite and I nearly moan at the sweet taste on my tongue. I haven't been allowed anything sweet like pancakes and maple syrup in years. Priestess Gabriella used to say it would make me fat and she controlled every little bit of food I ate. A sharp pang stabs me in the chest when I take another bite, instinctively recalling the mornings spent eating stacks of pancakes with my parents on my birthday. When I close my eyes, I can still see them sitting at the table, even smell the freshly clotted cream on my mother's lip, or the honey mixed in my father's tea. It was one of the rare times we ate together, and my birthday pancakes quickly became one of my fondest memories. It was so rare to eat with them and I cherished every moment we got to spend as a family.

I eat the rest of the pancakes slowly, acutely aware of how vastly my taste buds have been deprived of sweet things. It's like eating them for the first time. The pang in my chest is soon replaced with guilt as my thoughts stray from the past to the present, and to Lochlan in particular.

Lochlan…

Wherever he is, I hope he manages to find delicious food like this. He deserves it more than me. My appetite shifts at the thought of him, and I struggle to finish the rest of my breakfast, but I force every bite down. I need my strength now more than ever. I devour the rest of the pancakes, the plump strawberries next, and finally the sugar-coated mandarin until the plate is empty. I take a sip of the orange juice, the ripeness dancing on my tongue. I can't remember the last time I drank fruit juice like this; the convent always watered ours down.

Once I've eaten, I lay back on the bed, my belly full and thirst quenched. It's then something else rises within me from last night. Something I never expected to feel in the presence of my enemy…something I felt with Loch. Lust. Desire. A burning that hovers in my blood, begging to be quenched. With Loch, the feeling felt soft and quiet, but with the king it is violent and destructive.

The king's face, bathed in golden flames, sears its way through my mind. I shut my eyes but his lips and that smug smile of his still taunts me. It doesn't make sense. I have hated Erax for more than half my life. I've spent years nurturing my hatred for him and carving it into the very depths of my being. How in the gods could he make me feel… that?

He almost kissed me last night, and for the shortest of breaths, I had wanted him to. I wanted to know what my enemy tasted like, what those murderous lips would feel like pressed against my own. Would they taste like blood, like the blood that forever coats his hands? Or would they taste like something else entirely?

Last night was the first time in my existence I wanted to find out.

I need to get out of here as soon as I can.

A knock on the door jolts me from my thoughts. Thank the gods. I straighten on the bed and dust the pancake crumbs from my night dress, relieved to find the king's face vanishing from my mind. At this rate any distraction is welcome.

"Come in."

The door opens and two servants enter. I recognize them immediately as the king's royal seamstresses, the same ones who forced me to wear dress after dress at the convent while Priestess Gabriella watched. Whatever they're here for can't be good. It's not like I'm short of any garments now.

I search the area behind them, relieved to find only another servant following them. The guard places a highly decorated trunk in the centre of the room. The seamstresses pause at either side and bow.

"Your Grace," they both say, then the shorter one gestures to the trunk. "King Erax has sent you generous gifts to be worn during the wedding ceremony."

It's the first time either of them have spoken to me and I'm surprised to find no… malice in their tone. More surprising is the fact they referred to me as their grace.

My stomach clenches and I dig my nails into the mattress. "Gifts?"

"Yes, Your Grace. It is customary for the king's bride to wear a royal wedding jewel. Every new queen of The Hallowed Kingdom is made a new piece of jewellery to wear on her wedding and it will be added to the collection. There are currently many pieces for you to choose from. The king has requested that you personally be allowed to choose."

Together they lift the trunk, revealing various pieces of breathtaking jewellery. The sunlight filtering through the room bounces off the rich necklaces and bracelets, causing them to glitter like stars. Velvet boxes line the far side of the trunk, and at first glance I assume them to be rings. It's not until I walk over and cast my gaze over the strange objects do I realise they are earrings. Not the kind I'm familiar with, but the kind that follows the shape of your ear.

I reach out for one of the boxes, pausing to glance at the seamstresses, as though this is some kind of a trap. The smaller one nods, and they watch me tentatively pick up the earring. My heart hammers in my chest as I run my finger over diamonds so sharp they nearly cut me. There's so many of them. This trunk alone could rebuild a city. My parents' city.

My city.

I swallow down my spine, holding back the resentment, and focus on the task at hand. After perusing the objects, I settle on a delicate necklace with a short gold chain and a small dragon-shaped pendant that hangs from its centre. The jewel carved into its eye glimmers a pale silver-blue in the light, reminding me of the moon. The seamstress nods and reaches into the trunk, drawing out one of the many unopened boxes.

"Might I suggest the Dragonquartz bracelet and ear wrap to match, Your Grace?" She opens the box and holds it beside the corresponding bracelet, almost identical to the necklace, except the dragon pendant is wrapped around the jewel like it's cuddling the moon. "Or perhaps her grace would prefer our newest arrival, the sunlight rose quarts, to compliment her beautiful hair?"

I shake my head, drawn to the dragonquartz. It reminds me of home, like the moon always does, but more than that it reminds me of strength.

And I really need as much strength as I can get right now.

The earring, or ear wrap as the seamstress called it, is just as beautiful as its counterparts. It's shaped like a dragon, with moon quarts for the eye, but the wings are stretched out this time, and when the seamstress tests its fit on my ear, the gold tips poke out between strands of my hair. It's beautiful, all three of the items are, but I don't say it. I will accept nothing willingly from their king. How I'll manage to successfully keep that up, and for how long, I don't know, but I've got to at least try. He is my enemy after all. The fact he is to be my husband will never change that.

The seamstresses close the trunk, and with a click of the smaller one's fingers, the guard returns to carry the trunk outside. The women follow him, and I frown at their backs. Surely that isn't all? The ceremony is coming far too quickly.

"Is that all?" They turn to look at me, their expressions as confused as I feel on the inside. "What I mean is, the dress… Will I have said in that?"

They do not answer, and my gut twists uncomfortably. Silence never means anything good. At least not in my experience. Silence has often resulted in something worse than a response. Something that could never mentally or physically prepare me for.

I need to get out of here.

This room, this palace, this kingdom — it's suffocating.

And it's not like the king forbade me from wandering his palace. He did say I could take "strolls" so long as I don't get myself blown up. The king doesn't need to know that I'm using those strolls to take in every inch of my prison so I can fetch a way out of it.

I yank the door open, searching for the guards I sometimes find lingering in the hallway. None stand guard tonight. There's something immediately suspicious about that, but my anxiety is too high to let me ponder it.

Wrapping my nightgown tighter around me, I head in the opposite direction to where I went last night. The air is distinctly different the moment I step foot into the empty hallway. It's colder here and the smell of burning ash does not fill my senses. The walls are also lit with more sconces that allow me to see the intricate patterns carved into the stone beneath my pink slippers.

I pause at the end of the corridor, my gaze falling upon a strange glowing insect perched on the edge of a flowering locus plant. It's small enough to be missed if its wings didn't glow a bioluminescent blow. Its light alone is strong enough to beam against the stone wall, highlighting more of its kind gathered within the crooks. There's an almost tangible pattern about the way they've positioned themselves. I follow the pattern, curious to where its spirals might lead, and extra mindful of my steps this time. The last thing I want to do is accidentally trigger another trap again.

I follow the trail cautiously. I've never seen insects like this before. They remind me of dragonflies, almost exactly like them, except their eyes and wings glow like sapphire stars. So strong is their light that they eventually replace the scones to guide my way, leading me down a long spiral staircase to an old wooden door covered in vines with the same bioluminescent glow. Thick layers of dust cover the wood and the handle has all but crumbled on the floor, leaving only a gaping hole behind. The door doesn't look like it's been touched in years.

I peer through the hole, seeing only more of the glowing bugs on the other side. Surely something so beautiful couldn't be a trap. That is probably what the trap maker would want their victim to think. Yet I'm inexplicably drawn to this door. I hesitate. I can't risk getting myself blown up again, and I really don't want to wander too far and end up crossing paths with a guard.

Or worse, the king himself.

I turn around and make for the stairs again. As curious as I am to find out what's on the other side, I'm not brave enough to take the risk.

That's when I hear it. The distant lulling of waves crashing over rocks.

My entire body freezes to the spot as childhood memories come flooding back to me; summers spent lounging on the beach with sand in my hair and the whole west ocean stretching before me. It was rare that my governess would take me to the beach where my parents had private access to. My mother was always frightened I would somehow end up drowning in the water, so she never let me go, but my governess—my dear, sweet governess, who was killed in the fire—would take me there as a treat when I pleased her with my studies.

As if called back by the waves themselves, I face the door again. It's been so long since I've heard their beautiful whooshing or felt the coldness of their salt water caress lapping at my feet.

Excitement builds within me. Since turning around the bugs have gathered the keyhole, leaving just enough room to insert a key. One of them flies down to perch itself on what remains of the handle.

I bend over, grasping it in my hand and turning it over in my palm. To my utter surprise, a slightly rusted key rests half-lodged inside its mechanism. A tinge of cautionary fear begins to cloud my excitement. If I believed in signs, then this is as good a sign as any. It's like the gods themselves want me to open this door.

Despite the king's caution echoing in the back of my mind, I pick up the key and insert it into the gap. The bugs use the tip of their wings like claws to hold on to it and slowly turn it around. The door opens out into a corridor, only it's not really a corridor. It's more like a passageway typically found in a cave.

The bugs cover the walls on either side of me, glowing in that same spiral pattern as before. But it's not them I'm focused on now. It's the exit at the end of the passageway where the sound of waves can be heard. The ocean has always calmed me—always made me feel less alone in a world burning around me.

Relief washes over me when I step out of the exit. There is a beautiful rocky shore lake stretched out far in front of me, hidden under the branches of thick trees so it cannot be seen from above. The branches are so tightly woven that it is hard to even make out the sunlight through them but it's bright enough here. What strikes me as odd are the torches outside the exit. There are two of them at each side mounted on iron dragon statues with their claws holding them in place. Both of them are lit. I scan the shoreline again. The only other habitants are the dragonflies skimming the surface of the lake and embankments like flickering blue stars.

There doesn't appear to be anyone else out here. I stretch up onto my toes and yank out of the torches. Lochlan would tell me to turn back. I can just hear his voice in my head. For as long as I've known him, Loch has a fear of deep water and the things that could lurk in their depths. I've always been the opposite. The lakes and ocean have only ever smelled like home to me, and this is the closest I've been to home since it was taken. I've waited years to do this.

I'm not going to turn back now.

I now believe there is a reason I have been brought here tonight. None of this coincidence. The gods don't believe in coincidence, only fate. And so, do I.

Extending the torch to help guide my way, I approach the water's edge. Pebbles replace the grass beneath my feet and crunch against my slippers. I slide the torch between two rocks to hold it in place. My hands shake with excitement as I remove my nightgown and slippers, placing them a foot away from the torch.

There's enough light now that I can clearly see where I'm going. I roll my night dress to my thighs and tie the edges into a knot just below my hip. Goosebumps rise over my body and the cool night air feels amazing against my skin, like an embrace from an old friend.

I dip my feet into the water, surprised to find the temperature warm. The beach at my parent's had been cold but invigorating. The water here is so different. As I step further into the lake, it's like sliding into a warm bath. I close my eyes and allow myself to just soak everything in. The way the current laps at my body, the softness of the kelp cradling my feet like down pillows. Gods, even the salt in the air fills me with a sense of relief I haven't felt in such a long time. It's like I'm dreaming again instead of succumbing to nightmares.

It's like I'm home again.

Something brushing against my leg prompts me to open my eyes. I glance down at the murky depths, figuring it's some kind of fish swimming by. With only the moon and stars to light my way this far out, there's little I can see under the surface. The fog creeping in from the opposite side is only making it harder. Where did that fog come from?

Disturbed water rippling beside me makes my heart jump.

I turn around, scaling the water around me. I catch only a glimpse of something flicking out of the water in the corner of my eye, something huge and glistening. It causes the current to change and for the waves to pull me in deeper.

I dig my heels into the slippy floor and lift my head to prevent any water from entering my mouth. The salt stings my eyes as the waves crash over me regardless, dragging me to its depths. The water is no longer a warm embrace but an icy chokehold where rocks claw at my body and algae ensnares me in its slippery trap, causing me to sink faster.

I keep trying despite the weight of the water crashing down on me. In my heart I know I've come too far to give up now. I've endured too much just to surrender to this water when I know there's still a small chance, I could be free of all this. I use it to fuel my determination, and I manage to push myself high enough to gasp a single breath into my lungs before I'm dragged down again.

The breath is enough to keep me going.

I swim against the current, giving everything I've got until there's no energy left in my bones. It's then that I see it—the blast of electric blue light hurling its way towards me. It lights up the bottom of the lake, illuminating the depths to which I've been brought. There are eyes down there.

Dragon eyes.

The water muffles my screams as I try to swim away. With only moments to spare, I use the last of my strength to grab hold of the kelp, but I'm too weak.

Too exhausted to pull myself up.

I close my eyes and brace myself for the impact, and whatever will follow it. But nothing comes. There's no pain, no burst of light slamming against my body.

Only darkness.

Then air rushing through my body to fill my lungs again.

I roll to the side, my chest burning as I cough up water, and dig my fingers into a rock-hard surface as cold as ice. For several moments I can see and do nothing other than that, my vision completely blurred and my eyes stinging.

Something pulls me back, away from the lake, and settles me by the torch in the rocks. A blurry silhouette moves through the light towards me and leans down.

"Lest you become that frost dragon's supper, you might want to be more careful next time."

His voice cuts through the coldness around me. I blink up at the stranger, finally able to see again. He straightens to his feet until the full moon eclipses him and offers me his hand. I take it cautiously, allowing him to help me up. He is blonde, tall and pretty in leathers that are the same scaled ones that Erax wears. Another rider. Even in the moonlight he looks distinctly familiar as if I've seen him before, yet I can't quite place him.

"What… happened?"

"You tell me. It's not often frost dragons come so close to the surface. That one down there has never been rode and usually eats anyone in this lake as a snack. Many have tried and failed to tame him."

He moves to the side, and I cast my gaze over the entire lake. I almost can't believe what I'm seeing. Everything around me is completely frozen. The lake and embankments, even the footpath leading from the palace to the lake itself is now covered in ice. How did this happen? The stranger looks at me curiously while our quick breathing clouds the air with smoke, entangling with each other.

"I thought frost dragons were extinct," I say. "What is one doing in that lake?"

"They were nearing extinction," he counters, "but King Erax managed to save them. They never come this close to the edge, though, and I've never seen one with…" He trails off, as if suddenly realising who he is talking to. He pulls off his cloak and drapes it over my shoulders. I'm too cold to shrug it off. "Dragons are especially territorial during breeding season. You're lucky I got here when I did, or you'd be burnt to a crisp right now."

Burnt to a crisp. I shudder at the thought.

"The name's Noble, by the way. Ironic, I know, given I just saved your ass."

I pull away from him and tighten his huge cloak around my body. Even in the moonlight, I can't see anything that makes me trust him. He looks more like a member of the king's royal court, and he must be if he is a rider. A loud huff blows across me from my right and I spin, looking into the forest to see dragon eyes reflecting the light. I can see red eyes and brown scales, but not much else. "Don't mind my dragon, he is curious about you because you smell like Crysi and you're not her rider."

I turn back to Noble. It's so secluded out here that I can't think of a good reason why he would be at the lake late at night. Unless… the king sent him to look for me? That seems plausible, given his clothes. Maybe he is a close member of his court.

"Thanks for saving my ass," I say, "but I'd like to know what really brought you here. Did he send for me?" I keep my tone neutral but add a little emphasis on the word he.

Noble picks up several rocks from the ground and throws one of them across the lake. It skates to the far side and lands on a frozen lily pad, shattering the reeds there to pieces like broken glass. "I mostly came here for the same reason as you—to get the fuck out of that palace and breathe some fresh air. I've been coming here to swim since I was a kid." He throws another rock. It doesn't land as far, and he curses under his breath. "Anyways, doubt I'll be doing that for a while until it thaws, and the dragon goes back to its nest as he usually doesn't bother riders. He came higher than usual." He glances down at his hands, and the ice on the lake reflects in his dark eyes, causing them to gleam. "Don't suppose you know how to unthaw the lake you've frozen, do you?"

"I didn't freeze it."

He laughs. "Well, the dragon certainly didn't, or you'd be dead. No one survives their ice fire. It's more brutal than even Cyrsí's legendary black fire."

I bite my lip, unsure if I should tell him the truth. Maybe I did miraculously freeze the lake somehow. Maybe it was a miracle. I don't know. But what I do know is that I'm out here, alone, with a complete stranger who, although saved my life, is also huge and carrying a sword at his hip with his dragon watching me. I'm vulnerable. I need to appear less so even if it's a lie.

"I'm still getting used to my power," I say. I wonder if the dragon could have caused it. I have heard about dragon riders possessing rare abilities due to the unique link they share with their dragon, but I'm not bonded to a dragon.

No. It doesn't make sense for that to be the reason. Something else must have caused this, and I need to figure out what.

"All right. I don't mind sharing this place," Noble says, pulling my attention back to me, "so long as you don't grow to be a pain in my ass?"

The way he says that reminds me of Lochlan and the way we would tease each other. In fact, in this light, he almost looks a bit like him. A sense of longing tugs at my insides. Gods, I miss Lochlan so much. I miss having someone to talk to. I miss having a friend.

"Cat got your tongue, snow pixie?"

I shake my head absently. "No, I'm just… trying to figure you out."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm a stranger to you. Better yet, a prisoner. Your king's prisoner. Why are you being nice to me?"

He laughs, the sound sharp and without any mirth. "I'm a lot of things. Nice isn't one of them." He shrugs, tossing another rock. "I just can't help but feel sorry for you."

My blood seethes at the remark. I don't need his pity. But I do need an ally if I'm to get out of here, so I hold back my spite.

"I feel sorry for you too," I say, affording him a faint smile. "I froze your lake."

His lips tilt upward at the sides, hinting at a genuine smile. He follows my gaze back to the pond. I'm no longer looking at its shiny surface now. I'm looking at the wall surrounding the palace. A wall I will never be able to climb.

"I know that look." There's evident scorn in his voice when he speaks, and I glance at him from the corner of my eye. "There's no way you're getting over that wall unless you can carve wings from that ice of yours. Flying is the only way in and out of this palace without the king's say, and unless you can bond with a dragon, you're stuck here."

His eyes linger a moment too long on the wall, long enough to tell me he has tried to escape from here once. Perhaps he failed, just like me.

Something pulls his attention backwards to the passageway. I glance over my shoulder. The second torch remains lit by the entrance and the doorway is unoccupied. However, Noble's frown deepens. He throws aside the remaining rocks and wipes his hand down his dark clothes.

"Now, are you coming back with me or are you going to be a pain in the ass after all?"

I'm not ready to go back. I don't think I'll ever be when I know what waits for me. It's just another prison after all, albeit one with a longer leash. But I'm not as anxious as I was earlier. This encounter has somehow managed to help calm me down, and that's really what I needed. I can't run away from my fate forever. Not for some time, at least.

I follow Noble back to the passageway. He picks up the torch and leads the way, the halo of light guiding our path down. In the days I've been trapped here, I have seen a number of guards come and go outside my room. Noble has never been one of them. He looks too young to rank above them, yet his clothes say otherwise. They are of high quality, and the cloak he draped over me is as thick as the king's had been. Except, their scents couldn't be more different to each other. Erax had smelled like fire and roses, whereas Noble is like freshly fallen snow settled over treetops at dawn. Odd considering the other guards' scents had carried that faintest hint of burning leaves. There is almost something similar about Noble's scent.

"Is Noble your real name?" I ask.

"Fuck no. You think I'd let my mother call me that? I would have crawled back inside her."

His reply almost makes me laugh, and blush. I bite my lip and continue to follow him. "Then why do they call you Noble?"

At the end of the passage, he opens the door and waits for me to step through. In the firelight I notice his forehead is creased with a frown. I step over the threshold back into the warmth of the palace. Noble follows me a moment later.

"It's a long story," he says, leading the way again. "One for a night when you're not busy preparing for a wedding and we both have wine."

My stomach lurches at the reminder. My wedding.

"Where are we going now?" I ask, my breathing quickening as I follow Noble up the stairs to the training wing that is usually full of soldiers learning the ranks. It's empty now.

"My orders were to bring you back." He lowers his voice, a playful gleam in his eye, and glances back at me. "Don't worry, ice princess. The pond remains our little secret for now."

For now? I nod despite my growing unease, still not entirely sure that I can trust this man. I guess only time will tell if I can. In the meantime, I need to gain as many allies as I possibly can while I'm trapped here. Noble could be a good start.

He takes me back to my room. Four guards stand by the entrance and the door is slightly ajar. There's usually only one guard stationed outside. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. What if there's another tradition, I haven't heard of that takes place the night before the wedding? What if in this kingdom, your bonding occurs prior to etching your vows of eternity into the stone of fate?

What if it's all completely different here?

My heartbeat increases with every step towards my room. The guards immediately move aside for Noble, confirming he is of higher rank to them. I can't even turn my head to look at him when we stop outside. My gaze is rooted on the door, my focus latched on the familiar scent permeating through the gaps.

Noble pushes the door fully open. Erax stands leaning against my dresser, his hands clenching the sides, with his gaze fixed on me. I can barely hear my thoughts over the racing of my heart.

"Remove the cloak," Erax growls. "My wife does not need it."

His eyes stay narrowed on me as Noble removes the cloak, revealing my slightly damp body to the cool night air filtering through the balcony window. He closes the door behind him, and all the blood drains from my body as I try not to squirm under the king's gaze. Now we are alone, and I've nowhere left to run.

"Where were you?" he asks after several moments of tense silence.

I lift my chin again, hoping to convey a false sense of calmness I do not feel inside. "I went for a stroll, in the gardens, like you said I could."

The irony is that I went for a stroll and nearly died, again, like he told me not to. I don't tell him that.

He scoffs and crosses his arms. "Funny. I sent several guards to the gardens yet none of them could find you."

"That's because I?—"

"I might have given you free reign of the palace," he cuts in tersely, "but as of tomorrow you are to be my wife. I expect to be able to find my wife whenever I have need of her."

I clasp my hands behind my back, more to prevent myself from clenching them. "And what need did you have of me this night, Your Majesty?"

His upper lip twitches. With what emotion, I am not sure, but it makes my heart stutter and skip a beat, nevertheless. He crosses the room towards me. I consider stepping back but my feet remain glued to the floor, as frozen as the pond had been.

"I think you know what I need, Mist." His fingers slide under my chin and lift my head, forcing me to look up at him. "I need you to wash that other male's scent off your body."

My voice catches in my throat. "I – I already washed today. There's no need to waste—uughh!"

He swoops me into his arms before I can finish speaking. I grab hold of him to keep myself from falling, painfully aware of his hands on my upper thigh, now sliding over my behind. My body immediately flushes at the contact.

Without a word, Erax carries me into the bathing chamber where a bath has already been drawn. He drops me into it. I let out a surprised scream as the water submerges me. The water is lukewarm, telling me it's been waiting a while, but it's still amazing against my cold, shivering body.

Despite my distress, I'm instantly warmed by its embrace, and my clothes no longer stick to me like sheets of ice when I surface again. I gasp for air, both relieved and shocked by the ordeal, and grasp the sides of the tub. Erax holds me down to prevent me from standing, his eyes blazing with fury. I've never seen such rage burn in a pair of eyes before. It's almost… feral-like. Like staring into the soul of a dragon and not a man at all.

"Erax…leave." I demand.

He pauses, watching me too closely. He tilts his head to the side, a growl that is terrifying slipping from his lips. "Mine."

I freeze in the water, feeling almost as cold as I was in the lake, as he backs away to the door. He looks over his shoulder at me. "No male touches you again, Mist. Next time, they die."