3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Kamir couldn’t remember ever being so cold and for far too many long minutes, he didn’t remember where he was, even with the silken sheets wrapped around his shivering body.

“Have the guards been taken care of?”

The voice of his uncle hit him like a cudgel, but by some miracle he kept his eyes closed and while he couldn’t control the tremors, his breathing never changed to give him away.

“And the few attendants. It has been arranged as you requested, my lord.” He also recognized the second voice, much to his disgust. Ibrahim was one of his uncle’s right-hand men. Not that Ibrahim’s hand would ever hold a sword, but it had no need, he did enough damage with a pen.

“My lady—”

The other voice registered in Kamir’s brain as one of his chamber guards, but then he could have cried in relief at the next one.

“Who do you think you are to deny me passage to my brother’s bedchamber? I assume you are fond of your head remaining attached to your miserable neck?”

Kamir’s heart leapt at the sound of his sister’s voice. If ever there had been a more suitable emir than Veda, he didn’t know them. She would have the kingdom at its knees, but not in fear, in adoration. Kamir could never inspire such devotion.

“Veda?” he pretended her voice had roused him, and ignored the fluttering hands of Ibrahim, and the deceit that coated every concerned word that dripped from his uncle’s tongue.

“Brother,” Veda acknowledged, sweeping into the room, and completely ignoring their uncle.

“Your Highness, the healers are—”

She waved Ibrahim’s comment off as if it was inconsequential. “You may leave us.” And Kamir, because his eyes were fully open, caught the look that the weasel sent his uncle, as if Veda didn’t have the power to command any slave’s instant obedience.

“I require privacy,” Kamir managed to croak out, and Ibrahim bowed and left.

“Of course you do,” Veda said softly and sat on the edge of his bed, then blinked and peered into his eyes. She opened her mouth, closed it as if she thought better of her words and turned to Gabar. “Uncle? Perhaps you can brief us?”

“It was Cadmeera,” Gabar spat. “The dragon answers to their king’s consort, and they clearly wish to annex our great nation.”

“And where is the dragon?” Veda interrupted.

“Escaped through the throne room windows where it also entered. There is damage to the wall, even though the windows are huge. A great many were killed.”

The breath caught in his throat. Damage? Killed? No, no, that wasn’t true. He’d felt peace for the first time in—

“And we were barely able to save his highness. Many loyal guards gave their lives, of course, and their families will be compensated.”

No. No. Kamir’s mind was flayed in all directions. People died? Why?

“I wish to speak to my brother alone,” Veda said crisply, as if she was daring Gabar to object. He hesitated, but then bowed and left, and Kamir wanted to laugh. If Gabar had been in Veda’s sole presence, as a female she wouldn’t have warranted the same respect. The bow was for him. Veda stood and stalked the chamber, then opened the door, surprising the guards when she shut it immediately, then came back to Kamir.

“We’re alone,” she whispered and bent and brushed a kiss to his forehead. “What in seven hells did you do?” It was funny in an overwhelming, ridiculous way and Kamir described in detail what he could. Veda listened intently. “So, you’re a hundred percent sure you were the dragon? It wasn’t Eldara as they think?”

Kamir hesitated. But he knew. Deep down, he knew. “Yes.” He had no idea how, but it had been him.

“Tell me exactly what happened when you changed,” she asked.

“It was the pleasure slave,” he whispered.

She frowned. “What was?”

“He changed me.” He could still feel that touch. That connection. “I’d never felt anything like it.”

“Wait, are you saying the touch of some stranger caused this?”

She sounded incredulous, and he didn’t blame her. “Believe me,” he begged and clutched her hand.

“Brother,” she whispered, not a name but a promise. “Have you looked at yourself since you woke up?”

Kamir shook his head. “In what way?”

She smiled. “Well unless a slave has had time to add a purple streak to your hair, and a sorcerer has lightened the color of your eyes then I believe you. Not,” she added, “that I wouldn’t anyway.”

“Then what happened?” Veda stood and walked to the cabinet lifting the looking glass and bringing it back. Kamir gaped. His eyes were almost amber, and he had a purple streak in his hair. “What did the dragon look like?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “We were alone. People screamed. They ran. The pleasure slave was the only one that stayed.”

“So you were looking at the slave not the dragon?” Veda arched an eyebrow as if proving her point. “There were witnesses? You are sure?”

“Mansala. Where is he?”

She shook her head. “No one knows. His body hasn’t been found, but—”

“He didn’t enter the room with me. He was making arrangements for our escape.” Kamir croaked.

“I was told there were many deaths,” Veda said. But if it was you it makes no sense.” Kamir felt nauseous. He had felt such peace, such love. There had been no hatred in his heart. Veda hesitated and Kamir noticed.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“There were many killed. All the pleasure slaves save the one you mean. The guards. The only people unaccounted for are Mansala and your pleasure slave. There was a sergeant who apparently told Gabar with his dying breath that a dragon flew in from the large windows taking out half the wall, and all who could have confirmed or denied his story were hacked to pieces.”

“So, no one saw me as the dragon?”

“No one alive,” Veda said, caution lacing every word.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Kamir whispered, and Veda made a strangled noise and gathered her brother in her arms.

“You aren’t capable,” she promised. “Whatever happened, someone or some thing else is responsible.”

“You should have fled,” Kamir said, clinging on unashamedly. “What happened to the plan, and why aren’t I in chains?” Because today was the day he had to prove himself a wolf, which he knew would never happen.

Veda huffed. “The palace was locked down and all celebrations cancelled. Draul cannot get in.”

“Which still doesn’t explain why I’m in my bedchamber and you have free access,” Kamir said, letting Veda go and sitting up properly.

“No,” Veda agreed. “He’s up to something.” She paused. “It makes no sense, but it’s a fact that all who witnessed the change are dead.” She arched a brow. “Except the pleasure slave, of course. And Mansala, hopefully if he returned in time. I don’t believe our dear uncle hasn’t noticed your eyes, although he’s self-absorbed enough not to.”

“I was drawn to the slave. Maybe…maybe it is he who is the dragon?” Kamir didn’t feel any different.

“I suppose it depends on if you can shift again?” she asked hopefully. Kamir closed his eyes and searched for the feeling he had when he saw the slave. Such love. As if, for once, everything was right in his body. He felt different, but not so different that there was a dragon inside of him. He even smiled but he shook his head. “It sounds ridiculous. I didn’t know dragon shifters even existed.”

“Except we’ve seen Eldara.”

“But she’s not a dragon shifter ,” Kamir argued. “And she said she could sense no animal in me.”

Veda sighed. “She said no wolf , but I agree, I would have thought the presence of a dragon would be easier for her to sense. The only story I heard of their existence was the one Attiker told me.”

Kamir remembered. “According to what her highness the queen mother told Attiker, supposedly thousands of summers before the Fenrirs, the five kingdoms were the home of dragons.”

“But in that story,” Veda said, “the dragon shifter was the omega.”

They both stared at each other. “I have always known I am not made to rule a kingdom.”

Veda leaned forward and placed a finger over Kamir’s lips. “Don’t measure yourself against our father. You have compassion and that takes more strength than cruelty. You would do the best thing for our people even if it might not be the best thing for you. And Attiker is hardly weak, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. It also takes more courage than either our father or Gabar have in their little fingers.” She wrinkled her nose. “No, I don’t believe they have any in any digit.”

“Which brings us back to Gabar and his behavior.”

“You think he knows something?” Veda asked.

“We only have his word that the guard said he saw a dragon fly in through the arch windows before he died.”

“People were screaming, but they ran out of the room. I didn’t chase them. All my attention was on the slave.” He was beautiful. Light golden-brown skin, hair that flowed down his back like silk. Darker brown but with lighter streaks when the sun caught it, almost turning it to burnished copper. And his eyes were extraordinary. Most of their people had eyes in varying shades of brown, some occasional blue, but the slave’s were gray, a silver -gray that was stunning. “I don’t even know his name.”

Veda stood. “Let me—” But her words were cut off as the door opened and Mansala rushed in. Kamir’s lungs took a full breath for what seemed the first time since he’d woken.

“My lord, I was detained.”

“As was everyone,” Gabar said as he strolled through the door after him. “For your safety, and to calm the people, I have said you are injured after an unfortunate incident with rebels and the coronation has been postponed a week.”

Kamir gazed at Gabar. He didn’t dare look at Veda or Mansala. It made no sense. His uncle was clearly up to something. But why would he not take this moment to wrest the kingdom from what he saw as Kamir’s weak grasp? He had the perfect opportunity.

“My thanks, uncle,” Kamir said carefully. “I appreciate the time to recover and to discover what happened.” Gabar bowed and clapped his hands. Slaves rushed in with food and wine.

“I have already initiated an investigation, my Caliph.”

Kamir blinked in shock. Caliph? He wouldn’t have the right to be called so until after he was crowned the emir, and Caliph was a title reserved for very close family members, mates even. Gabar might be his uncle, but they were never close. What in seven hells was Gabar up to?

“And I have recalled the Rajpuran imperial forces to secure our borders.”

Ah, so that was what he was up to. He still intended to make all the decisions and thought Kamir would just capitulate. He thought stroking Kamir’s ego was all it took, except Kamir had no choice at the moment. He still didn’t understand why his uncle had granted him a seven-day respite, which meant his uncle wasn’t sure of the ground beneath his feet. Which meant logically, he wasn’t sure Kamir was going to shift into a dragon again.

But then, neither was Kamir. He hesitated for a moment, then stood and accepted the robe Mansala passed him. He was used to many different slaves seeing his body and had long since ceased feeling discomfort. “I wish to dress, and then I will view the bodies of the deceased and say prayers for their acceptance with the goddess.”

Gabar hissed in a breath, which showed how rattled he was. “Highness, I am sure the people wouldn’t expect you to further distress yourself.”

“I thank you for your care, Uncle, but we both know this would be the least they expect.” And Kamir knew he had him. Gabar couldn’t naysay an age-old tradition. Putting off a party was entirely appropriate to respect the dead, but Kamir’s presence would be marked if he didn’t say the prayers, and as long as Gabar was determined to treat Kamir as the emir, he intended to act like one.

He caught Veda’s calm gaze and knew she had realized he was searching for a particular body. “I will accompany you,” she said respectfully and fastened her veil, as no female could be seen in public without one.

It took barely a few minutes for Mansala to dress him in dark mourning robes, including the deep purple sash that only the ruler of Rajpur wore, the one that had been taken from his father’s dead body and placed on his own. In those few private moments, he shared with Mansala what had happened as far as he knew, and what Veda had told him about his eyes and hair which it was clear Mansala saw as well. Mansala never hesitated. “Let me know what you need,” he said. “I assume this is why we are viewing the dead?”

Kamir sighed. “Not just.”

“You didn’t kill them, my lord.”

Kamir gazed at his best friend. “But I might as well have.”

“Said every general in every war ever,” Mansala pointed out. “I don’t know what happened, but I agree with the princess. Your uncle’s behavior makes no sense, but we need to take advantage of the reprieve.”

Kamir took a deep breath. “Let us go.”

He really didn’t want to. His heart hurt at the thought that the slave would be among the dead. If he saw his body, Kamir would turn and hand the sash to Gabar himself. He didn’t know what had happened in that room, but Kamir had met his soul mate. For one perfect moment, he had been happy.

He just didn’t know what he would do if he was dead, and he wasn’t sure his kingdom wanted to find out.