Chapter Thirty

CHAPTER

THIRTY

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M Y IVORY GOWN RIPPLES AROUND ME LIKE A RIVER and shimmers like a fresh snowfall. I've never worn anything so beautiful, nor could I imagine such a dress myself. The bodice is embroidered with green, yellow, purple, and pink flowers that trail down my skirts to frame each side of the high slit. Moonstone beads drape over my upper arms to create the illusion of sleeves, and the crown resting on my head consists of two gold dragons biting another moonstone at the center. Voluminous dark curls reach my lower back, and Hyacinth lined my eyes with a skillful hand, making them stand out like dying embers in a hearth.

"The king and queen of Galakin were in Urasos when the date of the ball changed and hastily traveled to make it in time," Ailliard informs me as he escorts me to the ballroom. "You'll be seated at a table with them, Commander Veles, King Eagor, and Queen Valia."

"Is there anything about them I should be aware of?"

"Well," he begins, looking slightly uncomfortable. "The prince of Galakin is unwed and about two years older than you. They won't say anything official, but a potential union might be mentioned. It would be an excellent match considering you can't stay here without a permanent position, and that would put a great deal of distance between you and Imirath."

"Oh," I say, remembering Saskia's forewarning. A prince to go along with all the other suitors Valia mentioned. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"But tonight isn't about that. Tonight is about you." He wraps his hands around the tops of my arms. "There will be several lords of Vareveth fighting to dance with you, but nobody deserves to revel in tonight more than you. You're not a queen because you were born into it. You're a queen because you lead with your heart but wield your intelligence like the sharpest blade." He leans forward to kiss my forehead. "I'm so proud of you, my dear. I don't say it nearly as much as I should."

I offer him a watery smile. "Thank you for your guidance throughout the years."

"It was all you." Ailliard steps back and looks at me as I imagine a father would. "I want to get to my seat before you enter, but remember that no man who plans on fighting for your hand tonight deserves you."

I watch him go, but what I really want is to ask him if he thinks one particular man might. I know what he'll say, and I know how it'll make me feel, so I tuck my words into a corner of my mind to save them for another day.

Braxton steps forward to knock on a set of double doors enriched with golden swirls and crystal knobs. Every detail in this castle is like a fairy tale brought to life. There's beauty at every turn and a regal energy surging through the halls and towers.

Three loud thumps vibrate the floor, and the chatter dies down. I smooth my hands down the front of my dress and square my shoulders after tossing my hair behind them.

Breathe.

"Esteemed guests of King Eagor Dasterian and Queen Valia Dasterian. It is with the utmost honor that I present to you Her Majesty Queen Elowen Atarah of Aestilian, Princess of Imirath, the Dragon Queen!"

I glide into golden light as strings are plucked and keys are played to produce an angelic melody. The ballroom itself bewitches me. Thick green vines creep up the walls and drape across the ceiling, some hang down, and all are dotted with small white and purple flowers. There's even a tree at the center of the dance floor adorned with golden lanterns. The trunk stretches high, and the branches sprawl like a spider's legs.

Tables have been created by twisted tree roots, and the guests who crowd the room blur together like a sea of rich jewels. A sharp whistle cuts through the thunderous applause and my eyes find Ryder. His curls are perfectly sculpted, much like the midnight-blue tunic that hugs his frame. Saskia stands beside him with her braids piled high on her head and her crimson velvet gown making her look entirely stunning. Finnian is seated with them as well, and Ryder pats his back while he gets emotional again. The white and sage tailored suit he wears makes his ginger hair stand out like the first rays of sun over snowcapped mountains.

Eagor waits for me at the bottom of the steps, and he graciously takes my hand before guiding my arm through his. It's hard to believe a few months ago all of Ravaryn thought I was dead, and now I'm here, gliding through a ballroom with a crown on my head and a king on my arm. He leads me to a raised gazebo made of more twisting roots and vines. The candles cast a warm glow throughout the private space, illuminating the set of unfamiliar faces waiting for me.

"Queen Elowen, may I present Queen Cordelia Ilaria and King Erix Ilaria of Galakin," Eagor says while gesturing between the pair.

"It's so lovely to see you again." Cordelia steps forward. Her dress is the shade of a sunflower, complementing her deep brown skin and auburn hair. She smiles at me like she found a trinket she wants to take home.

Erix reaches forward and brings my hand to his lips. He shares the same skin tone and outfit color as his wife, but his eyes are brown, and his hair is gray. "The girl who hatched dragons from eggs that were no more than stones passed down in my family for centuries. It's a day I'll never forget."

"I can't thank you enough for bringing them to me." The mention of my dragons is welcome, as are the people who gifted me the eggs.

The music abruptly ends, signaling us to take our seats. Fire licks at the back of my neck, and anticipation buzzes like a bee in my palms when I meet Cayden's gaze. He leans against one of the posts with his hands tucked into the pockets of an impeccably tailored black suit with gold embellishments. He looks more like a dark prince than a commander, ready to whisk me away to his realm of terror and tragedy but never let either touch me. I'm practically floating through a dream as I walk toward him knowing that approaching him, to anyone else, would be a nightmare.

"You look . . ." His husky tone makes my toes curl. " Beautiful is too mundane a word."

"You gifted me this gown," I say. My original was green and gold as an ode to Vareveth. I thought there was a mistake when I opened the dress box, until I realized each detail was plucked and polished solely for me, down to the heels with straps that climb up my legs like vines. "You designed it."

He shakes his head. "Must have been someone else."

"You're the only one I speak of my dragons with. Nobody else close to me would know what these colors mean."

His fingers slide across the beads before brushing down my arm and pressing into my back, guiding me to the table and pushing my chair in behind me. Goosebumps rise on my arms when he leans close to say, "I do not believe your beauty needs any embellishment, nor do I believe anything can compare to it, but that dress would have paled in comparison to you."

His smile deepens when he takes in my flushed disposition. "The original was also beautiful."

"I agree." No matter how hard I bite my lip, I can't fight the smile that now sits on my face in plain sight for him. His eyes dance along my features as they often do, taking in every detail. "But it never would have measured up to you."

Erix dives into a tale from his travels while a creamy pumpkin bisque is placed in front of us. I bring the spoon to my mouth, and a mixture of cinnamon and nutmeg creates a delicious burst of flavors on my tongue. Cordelia whispers the fallacies of her husband's story in my ear, such as the sea monster he slayed while crossing the Dolent Sea was really a whale he named and mentions often. When I accidentally brush my fingers against Cayden's under the table, neither of us pulls away.

"My son, Prince Zale, would've loved to come to the ball if the date hadn't been changed," Cordelia says as servants clear the plates. "He was looking forward to meeting you."

"I'm sorry to have missed him," I reply.

"We would love for you to come to Galakin one day." I pull my fingers away from Cayden when she fully turns toward me. "You may even find you like our continent better than Erebos. It's much warmer."

"Is your court seer still there?"

Her face drops. "She is. You must know she never intended for King Garrick—"

"My father's choices are his alone," I cut off her unnecessary apology and offer a small smile. "My dragons are a blessing, not a burden."

The room falls silent when Eagor stands and extends his glass in the air. "Queen Valia and I thank you all for attending this celebration given the short notice, and offer a special thanks to King Erix and Queen Cordelia of Galakin. Vareveth has suffered for too long at the hands of Imirath, but new alliances have arisen from the strife." Eagor turns away from the crowd and raises his glass to me. "Queen Elowen, we toast to new beginnings with you. To the Dragon Queen!"

"To the Dragon Queen!" echoes the crowd. Couples filter onto the dance floor once the toast ends. Cayden stiffens beside me and takes a long drink of wine from his chalice, which somehow looks small in his hand.

"Queen Elowen, will you give both me and our alliance the honor of your first dance?" Eagor circles the table and extends his hand to me.

The thought of being close to him sets me on edge, but I place my hand in his and bury my discomfort as we glide into the crowd. Eagor rests his hand on my lower back, and I rest mine on his shoulder as the dance begins. He leads me through the steps I've practiced since I was a young girl stepping on Ailliard's toes.

"I hope you're enjoying your time in Vareveth thus far," Eagor says above the music.

"It's lovely," I answer as he places his hands on my hips to briefly lift me when the music calls for it. The assassination attempts aside, there have been good parts.

We sidestep before he dips me. "Did you know there was a chance we would be married if you had never left Imirath?" My smile gets tighter. Every part of me is urging myself to put distance between us. "My mother and your father only brushed upon negotiations, but those ceased after you disappeared." The soldiers who came to my cell would poke fun at the peace offers Garrick received. He's a tyrant with no moral compass.

"Thank the gods," I mutter.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said that's very odd," I say above the music. "It's a good thing it didn't work out, because now you have Valia."

He spins me in tandem with other couples, but his hand is lower on my back than when we first started dancing. "She and I are a marriage of convenience, not love. We both have other . . . arrangements."

Gods, I feel trapped. The only thing I can do is smile and finish the dance. I can't make an enemy of him minutes before the stroke of his quill will determine the difference between my people surviving or starving. I can suffer for them a bit longer.

"There's a very expensive brothel close to the castle. Sometimes royals or people of means go there for a night to forget who they are and escape servants' prying eyes." It's a miracle I keep the sneer off my face when his thumb begins to stroke my hand. "The atmosphere is reason enough to go and meet someone in a private room."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Don't start shaking; just keep smiling.

Don't start shaking; just keep smiling.

Don't start shaking; just keep smiling.

"You've lived hidden away for your adult years. I'm unsure of how much experience you've had, and I want to make sure you go to the right place to seek it." The instruments play a shrill note, and he takes the opportunity to press his fingers into the center of my back, hard enough to feel them through the thick material of my corset. "You're a very beautiful woman, Elowen."

"You don't need to fret over my life experience. I've had plenty." Anger, disgust, and malice boil in me. "In fact, do you know how I punish untoward advances?" My smile keeps him intrigued. "I end the offender and make it look like a disappearance. If the princess bonded to five dragons can become a ghost, I suppose anyone can."

He flinches and falters the final steps of our dance. Doors at the opposite end of the ballroom open and trumpets flare, signaling that it's time to sign the treaty.

I smile sweetly at him. "Shall we, Your Majesty?"

"Of course," he mutters while extending his arm to me. Let this be the last time Eagor Dasterian looks at me as anything more than a political ally.

Cayden is already signing the treaty when we enter, and I detach myself from Eagor the moment the doors shut to do the same. An immeasurable weight I didn't realize the magnitude of rises off my shoulders with each stroke of my quill. My people won't starve, and I can finally focus on my dragons. I stare into the blazing fire in hopes of catching a glimpse of their eyes or feeling the bond pull at my heartstrings, but neither occurs.

Eagor hardly has a chance to rest the quill on the desk before Cayden grips his tunic and shoves him into the nearest wall, rattling the frames. "Unhand me!"

"You told me to stay away from her? Now this is me telling you to do the same and there will be severe consequences if you don't heed my warning."

"I'm your king!"

"I don't give a fuck if you're a god. If I see you reach another hand toward her, I will happily cut it off." Cayden's voice is laced with lethality. It's dark and cold, just like one would imagine death to sound.

"We were dancing," Eagor growls.

"You and I both know you overstepped, and unless you want a rumor started about the precious powder you love to snort, I suggest you remember who you're dealing with."

Eagor pales, and his mouth parts in horror. He looks at Cayden like he's a demon before his eyes dart toward the door. "The treaty is signed; therefore it's my time to return to my guests."

"Good boy." Cayden pats his cheek before shoving him in that direction. Eagor stumbles and rights his crown before slipping from the room.

"What just happened?" I ask breathlessly.

Cayden turns in my direction and cuts the distance between us, pressing my back into the wall before I have a chance to process what's happening. He dips his head close to mine but doesn't kiss me. Our hearts beat as one, and his eyes are burning and almost unhinged.

"Cayden," I gasp. He drops his head and trails his lips down my neck, biting and sucking on the soft spot below my ear. "W-we can't. Not here."

"I don't care," he groans against my neck, pressing closer and pulling another moan from me. He hitches my leg around his waist, and his hand tightens over the dragon dagger on my thigh. "Gods, I love this."

I thread my fingers through his hair as he whispers compliments against my skin and touches me like he can't fathom taking his hands off. All the reasons we should pull apart are silenced when his lips glide against me. He treats me like a cherished secret he'll keep to the grave.

He moves up my neck and rests his forehead against mine, keeping me close without taking this further than we have. He seems content to just stay there, looking at me. We're dancing on the edge of a cliff without caution.

"You got your treaty," he states in a gravelly tone.

"Yes, you're shackled to me for the foreseeable future." My voice is shaky even to my own ears.

"You already had me." He drops my leg and takes my hand, abruptly pulling me off the wall. "We're going to dance."

"How sweet of you to ask. " I hurry my steps to keep up with his long strides. "You told me you don't dance."

"I make no apologies for wanting the kingdom to know you're mine for the night." He smiles at me, and the soft candlelight graces his face like a lover's caress, making him look innocently sinful.

Truthfully, I don't want to dance with suitors or suffer the liberties of their bold hands. I tell myself that's why I'm curtsying to Cayden on the dance floor when he bows. Butterflies swarm in my stomach when he pulls me close, and we move into the proper position. The way people are staring at us in a mixture of disbelief, jealousy, and curiosity makes me wonder if it's truly so rare for Cayden to dance. He notes my rising anxiety due to the attention we've drawn and tilts my chin back to him.

"It's just you and me, angel. You keep those pretty eyes on me," he whispers close to my lips, giving me the urge to close the gap despite the prying eyes.

Cayden whisks me into the fray of tulle and measured steps. He leads me as he does his army, definitive and steadfast, moving with measured grace. He's not the type of person to flow, he's the type to command the tide. I spin between his arms and press my back into his chest as we continue the steps. The dance feels enriched by the old magic deep within the roots beneath our feet. I allow myself to fall into the cloud of clandestine touches.

We're closer than what's deemed appropriate, and I'm sure Queen Cordelia's watchful gaze has noticed, but I can't bring myself to care. I don't need a prince to validate my power or place in this world.

Cayden's breath fans against my collarbone, and I lean my head back to rest against his shoulder. He glides our intertwined hands across my stomach, and they feel like they were made to do exactly this. He lifts me off the ground when the music builds to a crescendo, and it feels like the harpist is plucking the strings of my heart. We feel like a melody long forgotten plucked from a shelf, dusted, and placed before a musician to remind the world of our tale.

My arms wrap around his neck as he glides me down his body at a sinfully languid pace. Our breaths mingle in our own private universe amid the chaos. The invisible ropes tied around our wrists have twisted through the dance, but perhaps things must knot before they snap.

Stars dance in his eyes as he looks down at me. "Dance with me again."

"Will you ever ask me properly?"

"Why would I offer you an escape route?"

"It's polite."

He makes a face like the notion of pleasantry disgusts him. "I don't want you getting confused about what I am."

The next song begins, and I don't step away. I know we're being watched, but I want to be selfish. "What are you?"

"A monster, but for you, never to you."

A smile plucks at my lips. "I might get too tired to walk out of here if you keep me dancing all night."

"Then I'll carry you."

"Even if I step on your toes?"

"Always."

He whisks me away into a new dance. His hold never falters the entire night, and he always pulls me close to him after spinning me away, molding our bodies together as stars mold constellations in the sky. He twirls me until the only person in the ballroom I can see is him.