Dragons and Princes - [COMPLETE]

19. Faeana and Marquis

When Faeana summoned her father, he came and bowed before the thrones she and Marquis occupied. "My queen. Keisere." The last word was said with a tinge of disgust.

"Rise." Eiran Dagur obeyed stiffly, careful to keep his eyes away from the slouching, dark-haired Scultone he believed was a full-blooded Fenrir. He knew of the danger of meeting a Morganthe’s gaze. "Marquis, you are being rude," Faeana said coldly, glaring at him for disrespecting her father so.

"When did you plan this disgusting and morbid mockery of a marriage?" her father blurted, all but forgetting his reserve as he directed a look at Marquis meant to kill. She was glad the ability to kill with their gazes alone did not run in Dagur blood, but she did worry he might lose his calm, even as she watched it waver.

Marquis leaned forward, a cold, cruel smile twisting the side of his mouth. "It wasn’t my idea. It’s a dragon ritual, told to me by a dragon."

"You are a blatant liar," Eiran hissed. Eir, his war cat, spat a dangerous like expression of distaste. "Dragons do not speak; they are beasts. You don’t even have dragon heritage. And Faeana, you have greatly disappointed me, taking part in this sickening arrangement, preying on the fear of our people to allow this–"

At that, Marquis snapped, "Do not lift your voice to her in such a way, Lord Dagur. Your daughter is Queen, and she has no obligation to answer to you, or to anyone, not here." Marquis had startled Faeana with such a swift, agitated defense of her actions. "Your daughter is innocent of any plans to prey upon anyone. She is intelligent and wise beyond her years, and beautifully mad, to agree to my proposal."

"I don’t recall asking you, werewolf."

Marquis laughed a dangerous, dark laugh, which Faeana understood to be because he was hardly a werewolf at all. He was laughing at her father’s ignorance, to which she took offense. "Marquis, be silent! I will answer my father’s questions before you think to provoke him from his calm." To her father, she said more gently, "Trust me when I tell you, it was not my intention to keep this from you, but my telling you would have ended this with your forbidding it and forcing me to marry Patreos instead. Patreos has a very personal hatred for the Keisere after they provoked each other quite stupidly within the Winter’s Pines."

"I should have had you betrothed and married," Eiran said darkly, "whether you wanted it or not. Out of my love for you, I gave you time and allowed you your own choice, and instead of the man you and I both know loves you, you’ve chosen this . . . filthy mongrel over one of your own kind!" he stammered. "Does Patreos even know what you’ve done?!"

"No," she told him quietly. "I have not faced him–"

His icy eyes narrowed. "I thought not. He’s already almost lost his frey cat because of him. This might drive an innocent man to the storm, Faeana–"

"Address her as your queen," Marquis warned.

Her father ignored him. "If he loses Patre, it will be on your hands! Do you really want to be known as the heartbreaker queen, as the wolf’s consort–"

"ENOUGH!!" Marquis shouted.

Eiran Dagur stumbled several steps backward, turning white with fear even as his hatred bled through his reserve before he recovered. Marquis had risen from the golden throne, his fangs barred like any wolf’s. He refrained from touching Faeana’s father, but the two stood nose to nose while glaring at each other. "I dare you to break your oath and touch me," Eiran Dagur said icily.

"I didn’t swear not to touch you," the Keisere sneered, lifting his hand and poking her father’s shoulder with his finger, "I swore not to lift my hand against you. Or her."