The Skin Thief

Chapter 62

Kiora

Step one in Kiora's plan.

Acquire a dragon.

The only wife who has been gifted a dragon is Illyria. Kiora had no idea how much power that held until now.

The ball is in full swing. Kiora doesn't know what it's for as no one has explained it to her. Athan still isn't calling upon her. It's been nearly two weeks since Illyria had told her of the punishment she and the emperor had come up with after Kiora's 'comments.'

Two weeks of sitting in silence as the other wives gossiped. Two weeks of lying in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, envisioning the walls closing in on her. The visions were so realistic, that she could almost feel the crushing weight of them as they pushed her further and further into a tiny, empty little world.

With every passing day, Kiora feels a deep rage bubbling within her. The emperor could at least call upon her to tell her himself that he was about to take away the one thing that brought her any joy. If not that, he at least owed her the opportunity to defend herself. It leaves Kiora wondering how a man so powerful could be such a coward. How can he face great armies and conquer kingdoms, but not a single, simple woman?

She sighs and shakes her head, watching as Athan mingles in the distance with some important guests. Kiora has no idea who they are, why they're here, or why they are celebrating. Kiora doesn't have the energy to care about that anyway. Her attention is solely on the High Lady.

Illyria sits on a throne of ivory stone that is decorated with delicate twisted gold. Standing alongside her throne is a tall, golden perch where her dragon rests. It shifts uncomfortably and every now and then, it snaps at its ankles where a shackle of gold tightly wraps around its scaly skin.

Whenever someone walks too close, the creature roars at them, its wicked little shrieks filling the hall, despite the loud chatter and the music. Every now and then, Kiora feels a burst of heat on her face and a sees flash out of the corner of her eye as the roaring dragon blasts a wave of fire into the air. The display is met with a strange, uncomfortable clap by the crowds.

Kiora hates the way everyone looks at Illyria.

She is magnificent, Kiora can't deny that. Wearing a dress of royal blue and gold, Illyria looks like nothing short of a goddess. The way the twisting golden vines curl over the delicate, rich silks, linking with the incredible gold and sapphire encrusted headdress that rests upon her silky black locks, has everyone gazing at her with a mixture of envy and awe.

Illyria soaks it up. She sits on her throne, her sparkling, full lips pulled into a beautiful, confident smile and her turquoise eyes shining with joy. With her dragon by her side, no one pays any attention to the other wives. It is almost like Illyria is the only one in the room who matters.

Kiora sits on a throne of her own. Its location is right at the end of the line of thrones for the wives. With Illyria's being closest to the emperor's grand seat, though not right beside it, Kiora's is the furthest away. She peaks out of the corner of her eye. The wives sit in order of the length of time they've been married, meaning that to her immediate left, sits Lady Dido.

Just like Kiora, Lady Dido sits straight, her posture perfect. That's all they are really allowed to do tonight. This isn't a party for them, they are just the pretty little dolls to be ogled at and admired from afar. They are the creatures to make the emperor look better, to make him look more powerful.

A blast of heat and a flash has Kiora twisting back to look at the little dragon. Liros's neck stretches out as he roars at two men. They stumble back as his teeth snap at the air. Illyria chuckles.