A Battle of Fyre and Frost

Chapter Four

As I pick at my dinner, Perron looks around the room. "Where is Darkmore? I haven't seen him since this morning. Was Fulger not told to give him the night off?"

I notice Larc's eyes shift to me momentarily, but his words are directed to Perron. "He is on his way."

"He is late, and lateness will not be tolerated."

"He," came a voice I might have only heard once, but I'm never going to forget, "has already welcomed your son's new toy to bountiful Zegon."

Perron's eyes snap to the door, and I feel the back of my neck prickle. "When your king gives you an order, you are to obey, Drace."

His name is Drace Darkmore. I can't decide if it fits or not. I keep my eyes forward, not trusting myself to look at him again.

"And I obeyed, did I not? I am here, am I not? You have split my time and my duties, my king. Even I can't be in two places at once."

A slight smile lights Perron's face, as though he actually likes this guy. I think that's probably the biggest red flag I need to keep away from him. If Perron likes him, that's saying a lot about what kind of person Drace is. "No," Perron muses. "No. I suppose not. Come. By the look on sweet Lauden's face, I can imagine the greeting you gave her. Let me see you give her one befitting her...status in our royal court."

Well, this isn't likely to go well for me. I can tell by the way Perron says 'status' that the time is definitely over for pretending my royal blood means anything to these people. I may be second in line to my own crown, for now, but I may as well be the lowest commoner to this king. I am, after all, a political prisoner. Despite my words so far, he sees me as soft because, when it comes down to it, I'll be docile to protect my people. He thinks he can boss me around and treat me as little more than an oddity with his passive aggressive politeness. He'll soon learn that two can play at that game.

Drace walks around the room. I hear the clip of his boots on the hard floor. Like he's doing it on purpose. So I know he's coming. He comes to stand between Perron and Reyn and I'm forced to look at him. If I don't, it will set the tone for the rest of my time here; I'll be branded as intimidated, meek, mild, and fair game. I know what I should do. I know what Mum said. I'm supposed to be all those things, the things Sylv is in public; the perfect princess. But Mum's not here. Sylv's not here. They wouldn't want me being any of those things if the opposite will keep me sane and safe. Well, safer.

I can feel Nyro begging me silently to keep my mouth shut and my eyes down this time. I know he means well, but him having my best interests at heart translates to him keeping me as that meek princess, keeping me the woman I was brought up to be. He's been told as much as me that it's safer for me, but I'm the one who Sylv says has the political know-how. If my sister's right, then what I know is that I need to find the perfect balance between me and Sylv, the one we try to create for each other. She's not here now so I need to be both of us.

My eyes meet Drace's and I keep my breathing even. Barely.

Damn, he's attractive. Like air and water kind of attractive. Like 'lose my mind, strip myself bare, and lie all over the roast meat in the hopes it's my juices he licks' kind of attractive. I don't know what it says about me that my betrothed – a perfectly attractive in his own right, makes me smile with his banter, and I don't hate our impending marriage kind of guy – is sitting across the table from me and I'm trying to remove every piece of this arrogant kerei's armour with my eyes.

There's a cocky mischief shining in his rose and black eyes as he looks me over, like he knows what's running through my head, but his jaw and mouth are set hard.