Burn (Dragon Souls) (23 page)

“I see.”

“Why do those two words from you make my balls want to shrivel?”

Smirking, Marina turned to the Dragon Lord who stood inconspicuously out of the way, listening to the conversation.

Marina stared into his silver eyes.

After basking in Koen’s dark looks he was something exotic.

Her memory stretched then tapered without answers. She had never seen this male before, yet the feeling of him being familiar remained.

“You know who I am,” she said.

“Yes, majesty.”

Marina realised all people from the Ice Realm called her that, as if they had already accepted her as theirs.

The otherness remained guarded.

The Dragon Lord offered a courtly bow. “We have not yet had the pleasure of meeting. I am Lord Jakob of House Lin.”

Marina scrutinised his colouring, accent and heavy armour. “So you’re a Wyvrae from the Ice Realm. We’re not related are we?”

He hesitated then bowed lower. “You are quite right. And no, there is no familial crossing in our ancestry.”

“I’ve not heard of your House before now.”

He smiled a little, his unique eyes wary. “I did not expect you to have. House Lin is strong and ancient bloodline, but lower gentry, Princess.” He paused. Bitterness and age old shame seeped into his expression. “Our Sire liked to gamble.”

“What you did for that girl was kind.”

“She was only small.” He was unable to hide a worried glance from under a fringe of mercury lashes. “I am persuaded the youngling will remember to respect her betters in future. Nothing more need come of it.”

“I feel as if you’re politely saying something and I’m not catching it. Be direct.”

“There are those in the upper Houses who do not suffer the disrespect of commoners.” He paused. “You asked pointed questions about here whereabouts. I was worried you might feel compelled to punish her lack of graciousness.”

“Proud lot, aren’t they?”

He started, remaining quiet.

“Don’t worry. I
will
find that girl and the others like her. Rest assured it will only happen when I’m able to offer help not cause more harm.” She jerked her chin. “Walk with me, Jakob.”

He shot a wary look over his shoulder at her scowling guard.

The Dragon Men ran their gazes over him with thinly veiled disgust.

Dmitry went as far as to bare his teeth.

“No harm will come to you while you’re with me. It doesn’t matter what they think.” Her voice rose and hardened. “They’re here to guard me, not judge who I talk to.”

At once her guards rearranged their faces and backed off.

With that taken care of, Marina strolled off, and was gratified to hear Jakob’s heavier stomp behind her. She waited until he reached her side before talking again. “Between me and you, I’d do shopping and such alone, but Koen would have a fit when he found out. Oh my. Look at
that
.”

Stopping at a stall tucked off the main path, Marina studied bold yet graceful arches and flourishes of vibrant ink on the large piece of parchment. She smoothed a finger around an arresting depiction of Koen Raad snatching her from the sky. His claws were extended and his enormous wings spread wide. Smoke and fire spewed from his yawning maw, and the ground exploded upwards in a dramatisation of what really happened, which was that Koen saved her impulsive, crazy ass when she thought it sane to get between giants fighting for dominance. Her body looked tiny and fragile in comparison to the Dragon’s mighty form.

“This is beautiful,” she said. “This is worthy of parting with coin.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” A young man covered in ink splatter stepped forward and bowed. “It is an account of the High Princess being saved by the Dragon she fights for.” His face held traces of baby fat, and his eyes were round and innocent. “It is the wish of my family she becomes Empress. We painted this in hope the great Dragon Goddess hears our prayers.”

Marina was stunned by the earnest hope shinning from his boyish features. “You were there when this happened?” She inclined her head to the scroll.

His eyes grew wide. “A foreign merchant as poor as I could never presume to enter the Red Citadel. The tale was brought to me by a servant indentured to one of the great Houses attending Aver.”

That explained why a number of the visiting people in the souk displayed no recognition of who she was. She fought for a Queendom, but hadn’t made an official public appearance since she’d been sulking over never ending personal issues.

A positive about remaining unknown is that she was able to get a true sense of the Dragon Lands. What she saw shocked her. The slave trade turned her stomach, and the disparity between the wealthy and poor became increasingly apparent with each interaction she had with the lower classes.

Daniil repeatedly cautioned her as to how to proceed in reforming the haughty, injudicious attitude of those who had power to influence real change among the commoners, but she had no interest in giving moneyed peers a chance to defend such an obscene level of negligence. She would have been more open to giving them a longer timeframe to invest in other profitable endeavours had she not seen the horrifying conditions the servants and lower class were exposed to.

A part of her sighed in relief that she’d moved from the Imperial apartments into the humble Ryu abode. There was no way she could sleep in the luxurious confines of the upper fortress levels knowing untold suffering happened below her in a land she declared her own.

Marina feared dictatorship, but the Ice Realm already possessed the reputation of acting well outside the recommended laws set out by the Dragon Council.

Her voice would be heard and obeyed there, and once she was Empress she’d make her will known in the Fire Kingdom too. The Drackai Queen would have a fight on her hands.

The sound of her guards taking up stance around the stall jolted her back to the present.

Marina raised her gaze to the merchant. “Do you wish her the throne because she’s the lesser of three evils, or because you believe she will be good for the Dragon Lands?”

Apprehension clouded the merchant’s previously ingenuous eyes. He flicked a panicked look over her clothes. Rather than answer her question he asked one of his own, “Forgive my boldness. You are of the gentry, but I see no House sigil on your, uh, garments.” He looked at Jakob and gave him a bow in line with his social rank, which Marina realised wasn’t much higher than the merchant’s own.

Marina cocked her head. “An answer for an answer. You go first.”

“Will my opinion cost me my life, Lady?”

Repressing the urge to rant – he reacted cautiously because he’d been conditioned to – Marina frowned, gathering her patience. She knew the gentry were heavy handed, but this was ridiculous. He was scared to offer his opinion in fear of his life. “No.”

Searching her face for the truth, the merchant’s hunched shoulders relaxed a fraction. “We have heard many great things of the High Princess’ benevolence and honesty.” He swallowed, hoping his words wouldn’t mean his death. “Personally, I have the highest of hopes for her to wear the Wreath. The Drackai often have the most revered Queens, but one day the Ice Realm shall have a Queen history remembers as the greatest.” His chest puffed proudly. “The fire breathers are bigger, but our Dragon Lords are fiercer and have great
warskill
.”

“I’ve heard that a time or two.” Amused, Marina smiled faintly. “Your answer was comprehensive Master....”

He bowed deeply. “Prokopiy, Lady.”

“Master Prokopiy. Thank you for that. I could see you were intimidated and afraid. That took courage.”

The otherness respected him, because it respected all kinds of strength, even the gentle kind.

Marina idly fingered the parchment. “I find it can be a headache to discover what people really think and feel. Lies are more readily accepted than truth here.” She flashed a vulnerable smile. “It’s difficult for me to adjust sometimes.”

At first his face was confused as he considered her words. He catalogued details missed by an unobservant man, her shorter than average stature, the unusual length of her hair, and uncommonly dark eyes. Finally, his gaze landed on the jade pendant strung about her neck. Customarily the pendant would only announce the wearer’s House affiliation, but worn by a Court female who is petite, short haired and possesses dark eyes like her legendary Sire....

The merchant’s back snapped straight and his mouth gaped. “Goddess help me.” His eyes grew wide and glittering. He stabbed a finger at the parchment. “You are
she
.”

“May I have it?” Marina untied her money pouch. “How much you want for it?”

“N-nothing. A gift, esteemed majesty.” He hurried to get the painting down, fumbling with its fastenings. “It is an honour for you to look at it.”

“Don’t be silly, Prokopiy.” The impatience returned. “I can see how much work went into this.”

The merchant rolled the parchment into a cylinder and wrapped it in sturdy cloth tied with string. He offered it to her with a bow. “Please. Take it. No charge.”

Unhappy, Marina put away the pouch and took it from him. “Thank you so much. It’s beautiful and I know Koen will love it. He’s an acquisitive guy at heart, but don’t tell him I said so.”

“To think the Dragon King will see my work...” Muttering fretfully, Prokopiy bowed lower.

Still unhappy taking such fine work for nothing, Marina handed the parchment roll off to Dmitri.

An idea sparked, so she returned her attention to the merchant. “Have you ever done official work?”

“Beg forgiveness, I do not understand.”

“I like the idea of recording important events. The rumour mill here is killer.” She propped her fists on her hips and nodded decidedly. “I have a job offer for you.”

“W-What? Employment?”

Vadik leaned forward. “Majesty, you could just order him to do whatever task you wish. Payment to peoples of lower rank is not necessary for the Imperial families, especially if the worker is taken into the House. Payment is provided in housing, clothing, food and the like.”

Jakob’s silent disapproval of this truth was evident in the tense lines of his lean frame, and the resentment flaming behind the liquid silver of his eyes.

Marina gave the Captain an exasperated look.

He shuffled back rolling his eyes.

“Prokopiy, during Aver are you staying in the Fire Kingdom?” she asked.

“Yes, majesty. I am not yet blessed with the honour of a wife. My parents were too old to travel such a distance this year, and I am solely responsible for our trade. I will remain for the entirety of the tournament.”

“Outstanding. I’d like to appoint you as my record keeper.”

He blinked. “Thank you?”

“You won’t be thanking me for long.” She laughed. “I’d like you to visit me for breakfast every other day at sunrise.” Ignoring the merchant’s stunned look, she looked at Vadik. “Can you tell him where to find me please? Oh, you do accept, don’t you Prokopiy?”

“It is an honour to serve you.”

“It’s a job, Prokopiy. You will be paid a wage to make up for whatever earnings you lose while not selling your lovely artwork, which you should totally hawk inside the Citadel and to the Regent. He has a soft spot for scrollwork.” She stuck out her lip, blowing a raspberry. “I almost feel guilty for stealing you from the market, but I need your skills more.”

“But
why
?” Prokopiy asked, befuddled. “Majesty, surely there are others more qualified for your needs in the Citadel.”

“Maybe, but I met you first, and I
like
you.” She squinted. “To say I’m sick of gossip about me would be an understatement. While I can’t be there to personally counter crappy thing said about me, I can be there in spirit.”

“How?” Jakob asked the question the men were thinking.

“By circulating a daily news parchment.” When they all gave her blank looks she elaborated. “Think of it as a handheld political stone, but made of paper, and containing information about the Houses I’m connected with.” She counted them off her fingers. “Kol, Raad, Zar and Ryu.” She shot a dastardly look at Jakob. “And soon more. Not only can I fight back on these horrible rumours making out I’m some kind of loose-skirted gold-digger, I can provide the municipals information about me, what I’m about, and what changes I hope to make for the better.” She beamed when many of her guard nodded their heads receptively. “Like the orphanage.”

“What orphanage?” Vadik asked, bewildered.

She slapped his arm good-naturedly. “The one I’m going to build and dedicate to my mother, silly.” She spun to Prokopiy. “See you tomorrow. The super fine Captain here will give you details on how to find me. Thanks again for the gift. Follow me, Jak. I’m not done with you yet.”

H
ead snapping up, Koen Raad gritted his teeth and forced a smile. It ended as a thunderous glower. He spent most of the afternoon watching for Marina in-between seeing to his duties as King, growing surlier when he could not catch a glimpse of her anywhere.

It neared dusk before he caught wind of her things being moved into the bowels of the fortress.

Now, his Treasure bounced into the murky apartment he’d tracked her to as if nothing was amiss. As if he hadn’t craved her presence for hours, the need to know she was safe driving him to distraction.

Spotting him she smiled ecstatically, changing direction mid stride to hurtle his way. Her expression became more radiant and jubilant each step she took.

Daniil inhaled harshly. “To have my chosen female look at me that way.” His voice was low and pained. “I envy you, brother.”

Koen had no chance to respond. His arms were full of the warm, vivid female who’d branded his beastly soul. His heart swelled and overflowed. “Treasure.” He nosed her hair and the glossy strands caressed him like the finest silk. He breathed in deeply – salted water, wood, smoke, and fresh leather. A faint hint of armour oil clung to her, as did the pungent spice of the firefruit she’d had that morning. Underlying it all a heady musk all hers. She’d been to the souk. “You are well?”

“Very.” She glanced over her shoulder at the male who hovered in the doorway, feeling most unwelcome. “Come in, Jak. Take a load off.”