The Princess's Servant

15. The Draconian

Holden watched her sit motionless as the 'Draconian heir' stepped onto the balcony. His silky black hair shuttered in the breeze like reeds. His gaunt features only sharpened under the candlelight. It was dark outside now. The last tinge of daylight drained from the sky.

The dark prince sat. He folded his cape around his body and met the princess face-to-face.

"Your highness," he greeted her. His voice was quiet. Purposeful. There was a silence between them as the princess looked him up and down.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me that you've come to take me to your lair or that you'll save me from myself?" She asked.

"No, your highness," he responded. "I'm here for you," he said.

The princess looked at him.

"A story most curious came to me. Through the black forest, over the high desert, and across the snowy mountains, it arrived. It was a story of a sunny place with a radiant princess who tortured her own civilians," he said. "A story of one who made bets in bars and who backed away from no challenger. So I journeyed across the snowy mountains, over the high desert, and through the black forest so that I might meet her." 

"Well," the princess said. "Here she is. Take a messenger bird on your way out and let me know if you ever raise an army." She waved her hand and her guards approached the man.

"No," he said, standing from his chair. The guards paused.  "I've not met her. I have waited all night and all day to meet the woman I'd heard of." The dark prince reached his full height. "You're not her."

Sybil raised her eyebrows and suppressed the urge to twitch. It was quiet for a moment as she stared at the prince. "Oh," Sybil said, her voice strained. "I'm sorry, Draconian, but you've wasted your steps. If you mean to meet the Priestess, she is not and will not be here this evening. I think it's best you leave now," she said.

Guards closed in on the Draconian prince, but the man did not waver. "I know what it's like," he said. "To hide. But I came to meet you and meet you I shall. One way or another."

The guards snatched at his black cloak but the Draconian twisted and bent in strange ways, wrenching himself from their grip. The guards drew sword, but the prince drew his own. With black glove, he snatched the blade from his first assaulter and ripped the hilt from her hand. He threw it into the arm of another, piercing skin, embedding into bone, and causing her to drop her sword. The third and final soldier charged at the prince, but was stopped short by a fist full of powder blown at her face. The dark prince sprinkled the pale dust over the faces of her fallen comrades. The princess stood.

"Fear not," the prince said, turning to the woman. "They but sleep. But their rest will turn far more eternal if I don't get what I came for." He displayed a long, thin blade.

The princess felt the hard wood beneath her hands as she dug into the tabletops with her fingers. Marcus stirred behind her, and she brought a hand to her belt. Even Holden found himself becoming defensive, though he tried to remind himself that the princess's well-being was far from his concern.

"Take him down," the princess said, and Marcus obliged. She drew her broad blade and charged at the prince. The two of them exchanged one, two blows before the prince wrangled her blade from her grasp and shoved her to the ground. The Draconian landed a boot squarely in Marcus's chest and bashed her head against the floor for good measure. Sybil winced with the motion, her eyes wide and furious.

The dark prince stood. "Well, princess?" He asked. "What will it be?"

Sybil watched Marcus with great intensity, as she stirred and groaned. Her gaze shifted to the prince, her eyes determined and her posture straightened. "Are you that desperate to die?" She asked, her fingers curling into fists. 

Holden didn't like where this was headed. The last time he'd seen Sybil turn serious, he'd been seconds away from losing his life in a game of dice.

"I'm desperate to see," he said. "We need not be adversaries. I wish only to meet one like me. Come out, Priestess. Come eclipse your pallid face. Darken this night." The prince lowered his weapon.

The princess shifted again. "Final warning, Draconian. Leave this place, or I will call my palace upon you."

"Agh! Still you refuse me!" The prince called. "What must I do to force you out, you cowering rat? Must I take your life? His?"

The dark prince grabbed Holden and wrapped his blade around his throat. Holden squirmed in surprise and strained away from the cutting edge. The princess took a step back and hit the railing of the balcony.

The three of them became very quiet; very tense. The princess stared at Holden and he glanced at her while he attempted strained squirms. The Draconian looked between the two of them.

"Oh," he said, his eyebrows raising. He dug into Holden's neck with the knife a little and watched the princess shuttered and reach an instinctive hand out. "Oh," he said again, a smile reaching his face. "I see." The Draconian prince dug in a little harder with the knife.

"Stop," the princess said, her voice low and her brow lower.

"You can't come out, because you already have one to Whom You Show Your Face. But if I kill your little toy, you'll have no one left but me. Isn't that right?"

"Stop! I'll show you the Priestess! But know thus far I've been protecting you from what you do not know. And hear that the threatening of my servant's life did not change my mind, so much as it made me lose all empathy for you."

A dry smile slithered across the Draconian's face. "Whatever you say," he said.

The princess took in breath and closed her eyes.