by Lisa Daniels
Luan, meanwhile, scowled appropriately from her corner, in her officer’s uniform, so there could be no mistake about who she was. She had a drink-for-show and made absolutely no attempt to engage in any kind of conversation with anybody. They certainly didn’t, either, giving her a wide berth. Luan didn’t exactly exude a welcome aura, nor feel particularly inclined to, if ever. She screamed intimidation and danger. Which, according to Kerrick, some people were attracted to.
She wished she didn’t have to attend all these endless gatherings, though. She knew it was important that Kerrick increase his influence, so that when the challenge came, there would be no surprise that he coveted the throne early. Plus, he got to find out the general mood of the nobility, above and below, and their reflections of the king. From what Luan understood, most people believed the king had become reclusive and anti-social, though they blamed the death of his wife for his steady decline into such dark depths. They didn’t see the twisted hands of the puppeteers behind the throne, directing and sowing chaos in their lands. All in tiny ways. Extra decrees. Increased security protocols, slightly more people being rejected aid and chances of redemption, and more executions to free up spaces in cells. Stirring up hatred against Zamorka, which had only recently been patched up by the Elegant’s exploration into unknown lands.
More and more people knew that the Zamorkans weren’t monstrous, evil spellcasters, intent on corrupting them all and spreading death. Just a small, destructive minority that hated their own country almost as much as everyone else’s.
But even then, still waters ran deep, and not everyone knew the truth. People seemed to grasp aspects of the truth, but never quite bundle it together into one thing.
Luan certainly didn’t know the full story, either. Just the pervasive idea that something was wrong, terribly wrong with this country, and it originated within the king’s isle, where all the laws gradually changed. Problems kept occurring throughout the region. First with the Creeping Rot, appearing when it shouldn’t have appeared. The apparition of the red woman that only those of Zamorkan blood could witness, who was the source of the cure for the Creeping Rot, located deep in Zamorka itself. The floating islets in the distance contaminated too far out of reach for others to assist with, and the turmoil within other foreign countries, like the ruined border kingdom next to them, and Zamorka’s Leavenport dealing with insurgents.
The same insurgents that were here. Even now, Luan didn’t understand their true purpose. They seemed to hate the natural order of things. They didn’t want there to be an alliance between the Undercity, the Six Isles, and Leavenport. And they certainly didn’t want the cure for the Creeping Rot to be found.
Stirring hatred. Maybe it was just hate for hate’s sake. Maybe some people just grew so disillusioned that they didn’t care if the whole world burned.
Biting her bottom lip, Luan examined Kerrick, her eyes primarily fixated on his back, on the proud, confident way he stood, and how he elicited smiles from the people around him. There were others that glowered at Kerrick; he wasn’t completely popular. But someone of his status and influence would always attract admiration, envy, and opportunity.
Some people eyed Luan as well, discreetly, recognizing she was here with him, maybe wondering what kind of power she had. One air witch Luan identified from her academy days glared at Luan with open hostility.
Wonderful, Luan thought, attention drifting back to Kerrick. With boredom, her mind fluttered to other places, though she needed to keep drawing herself back to reality, so she didn’t abandon her duties completely. Still, it was… interesting to think about him. To consider this man, this dragon shifter, this prince, and slowly correlate the image of this charming, flirting royal, to the knowledge that he was interested in her.
It didn’t fit, somehow. Whatever… curiosities floated in her would need to be suppressed. She needed to keep her head in the present, and not think of flimsy scenarios, possibilities, and impossibilities.
She scowled at a man who pushed his way through the gathering, heading towards her, while friends laughed and cheered behind him.
“You look like you’re in need of some fun,” he said, eyes flashing in a wicked way. “Sitting there all moody. Gotta loosen up, right?”
“I’m not here for fun,” Luan replied. “I’m here to do my duty.”
She smelled a familiar, wretched stench of alcohol upon his breath, a loved stink of the hopeless and the abusers, the abused and the escapers, and drew herself further away from him. She hated alcohol, seeing the devastating effects of it firsthand, but at the same time, she tolerated one drink on occasion, recognizing people bonded over it. And her colleagues in the task force always insisted, so she figured it would make them feel at ease.
“Bet I can make you have fun,” he slurred, not taking her abrasive attitude as a good enough reason to leave her alone. She caught more of his features—smooth, baby-like face, narrow, brown eyes, and far too much arrogance in that expression for her liking. Even a storming prince didn’t have so much bottled pride.
“Just admit you lost the bet with your idiot friends,” Luan said, calmly lifting her for-show drink and giving him a mocking toast, “and save yourself the bother of needing to deal with someone who doesn’t care.”
The wealthy man’s face contorted into something ugly. Luan anticipated it and grinned wickedly inside.
“Do you know who I am? Do you know who you’re refusing?”
A figure slid into the thin gap between them, oozing calm. “Hello, what seems to be the problem here?”
The man squinted at Prince Kerrick, who now provided an effective arm barrier between the two of them. Luan felt a momentary twinge of disappointment. She’d been looking forward to teaching this idiot a lesson.
“Nothing,” the man said in a sullen voice. “Just trying to give this woman a good time.”
“She’s my bodyguard, and I’ll thank you not to hit on her,” Kerrick said with a heavy rumble behind his words. Luan could almost imagine the dragon stirring up inside, threatening to unleash itself. Thankfully, the man had enough wits about him to gather the very serious threat of the prince, or perhaps he just wasn’t up to defying those at the top of society’s hierarchy. Luan gave the man a tight smile as he backed off, before exhaling in frustration behind Kerrick.
“That wasn’t fair,” she said. “He was about to liven up my party, as he believed.”
Kerrick chuckled, turning to face her. “Your idea of fun might not be everyone else’s. I figured I should step in before something unfortunate happened to that man.”
“Probably for the best,” Luan murmured, and they shared a more genuine smile.
“You know, you can join in, instead of sitting all hunched up back here like some village freak.”
“I have absolutely zero interest in the brain-melting conversations you and your compatriots mill through,” Luan replied easily. “And I suspect it’ll make it harder for you to associate with other people if you have me standing behind you with a face like a thundercloud.”
“I wouldn’t quite describe it like that,” he said, his eyes darkening slightly. Once again, she was made acutely aware of his presence, the space he took up, the authority he commanded. Of course, everyone had a presence, but his somehow seemed to fill up the entire room, making it hard to focus on anything else but him. The effect of being raised up, Luan supposed, as one of the most important people in the kingdom.
“How do you feel about Perran’s plan, now?” she said, taking a languid sip of beer, an insouciant smile on her lips. He’d been digging in his heels since the start, but following along with their suggestions to mingle anyway, and she knew he was gradually coming to accept his role. She still partially expected him to object vehemently.
“Unhappy.” The brief mirth in his face fizzled out. “Like I’m a puppet to this whole charade, but I know that whatever end I’m at, it will likely have to result in a fight against my father.” He glanced around, as if check
ing to see if anyone was eavesdropping. They locked gazes again for another lingering moment, before parting.
There was a brief sense of loss, but she swallowed it, slipping back into her cool, nonchalant attitude. People examined her in a different light, seeing the interaction between them. Come to think of it, they’d been standing quite close, hadn’t they? She’d been leaning forward to him, and his arm was inches from brushing her own.
That didn’t mean anything, of course, but she wondered if it might be construed as something else to the watchers.
The party itself stretched on, two more hours going down the drain, and Luan went through a total of two drinks, sipping them at a glacial pace. She’d much rather be risking her life in the shadows outside the palace, sneaking in, listening to the breaths of others, sparing a wide berth for those risks, and delving into the deepest secrets the palace had to offer.
“Boring, isn’t it?” Luan’s attention shifted to a young woman with blonde streaks in her hair. Briefly, Luan recognized her as the life witch, the one on the Elegant who had been an instrumental part of bringing the cure for the Creeping Rot.
“What a surprise to see you here,” Luan smiled, seeing people glower at her further. “You might not want to be spotted with me. I don’t generate a whole lot of sympathy from others.”
“I’m an Undercity orphan,” Alex said by way of reply. “I’m just as bored with these people as you are.”
“Something we have in common.” Luan stretched out over two chairs, one leg hooked over the back rest in an almost provocative manner. “You’re here with Meridas?”
“Unfortunately,” Alex said, gesturing to her partner, who was slowly making his way through the crowd to engage with Kerrick. “Then I saw you over here, and I just couldn’t resist. You’re quite the famous killer. Stealing the breath from people’s lungs. Interrogating them for hours, days, weeks.”
“You, meanwhile, are the famous healer. Saving people from the brink of death,” Luan said, a warm glow buzzing through her, realizing she was enjoying this little exchange. “Complete opposites, I’d say.”
“Yes.”
“Wonder if your magic can compensate for the vacuum I form around your body.” Luan pursed her lips, contemplating the manner seriously. Alex was pretty much the only life witch around for potentially thousands of miles.
“I’m not sure, and I might not be so inclined to test it out.” Alex didn’t seem alarmed at Luan’s statement. “I should dislike you. No one should take so much joy in killing.”
“But if someone does,” Luan drawled out, finding herself going through her third drinker faster than usual, the buzz of satisfaction mingling with alcohol, “then why not let them have a job where their personality is put to good use? Better to have someone like me than someone who will experience a psychological break over everything they’ve done.”
Alex raised her eyebrows, hazel eyes wide, as if she hadn’t considered this possibility before. She swigged at her own drink, a darker liquid than Luan’s choice. “Well, I suppose it’s better to have you as a cop than a criminal.”
“There’s always a very thin line between what makes a cop and a criminal,” Luan said, now drumming her fingers on the table. “We find we have to think like criminals to understand how to trap them. The main difference between us is the choices we make. The actions we follow through with. Now… any particular reason that you’re here, attending a party? Someone like a life witch is far too valuable to waste on simple court visits to places where they don’t want to be.”
“That would be telling,” Alex replied, though it was without animosity.
“Something even a member of a police task force shouldn’t know?” Luan lowered her voice further, even though no one could hear them anyway. “Say, something like those no-good, rotten Conclave saboteurs?”
Alex heaved a sigh. “Well, I’m here to showcase what a good Zamorkan looks like. Even though I was never raised as such, I at least look the part.” She indicated her blonde locks, her lighter eyes, her oddly full features. “And I’m here to listen if there are Zamorkans hiding among us. I can… we can sense each other when nearby.” Her lips thinned at this statement. “The magic in our blood connects us.”
“Huh,” Luan said, brain now spinning with ideas, working overtime. “Someone like you would be exceedingly useful in the task force. Maybe you should pop around sometime.”
“Maybe I will.” They both examined each other cautiously, before turning to face their charges. Meridas commanded a presence of his own, but it paled compared to Kerrick’s, Luan thought. Everyone else paled in comparison, to be honest.
For one brief, insane moment, Luan imagined herself dressed up like the woman currently speaking to Kerrick, with dark, wavy hair, earrings, and a proud, noble bearing. Her imagination went beyond what the woman did. Laying a hand on his shoulder. Leaning close to whisper into his ear, watching as his eyes glinted with something more than just polite interest. Luring him away to some hidden corner to dance their lips together and more.
This is what twenty-four years of sexual frustration does to you, Luan thought in irritation. She’d always kept herself under perfect control, always had ways to vent any potential frustrations that built up in her body.
At least, until now. Being in the vicinity of this prince was dangerous, and she became more doubtful of the notion that she might be able to control her actions.
Because she knew what he wanted—and having that knowledge elicited a kind of curiosity inside. It was one thing to doubt that the other person might be interested. It was another thing to realize that the only person keeping them apart was herself.
It was all her decision.
“I’ve heard rumors that Kerrick’s planning to challenge his father to a Kingmatch,” Alex said, completely unaware of Luan’s shifting mood. “People in the courts are whispering about it. That Kerrick’s mellowed and changed, and his father is becoming more irrational and crazier with the decrees he metes out.”
“You heard that, huh?” Luan kept her tone decidedly neutral, though her nerves rattled. This was what was meant to happen… but if the rumors were flying so thick and true already, then that likely meant the king and his spies already knew. They could suspect, but without solid evidence…
“You’ll have to keep that prince safe,” Alex whispered then, placing one tentative hand on Luan’s shoulder. “Because I can think of plenty of reasons to take him down before the challenge ever manifests.”
“Me, too,” Luan agreed, vowing to stop herself from getting distracted, and to not allow her boredom to weaken her ability to protect another.
She and Alex continued to exchange easy conversation, both taking solace in one another’s company, rather than the colorful flock surrounding them, and when it came time to leave, they shook hands and parted, leaving Luan to trail behind Kerrick until he shifted, and she clambered onto his back to fly back to the Undercity manse in the northern district.
She liked the scaly and feathery feel of Kerrick’s skin in dragon form, the way his steel-gray body rippled in the night and his wings beat a rhythm on either side of her. It felt intimate in a way, being so close to someone and touching them, but not doing anything further. The alcohol continued to slosh through her body, leaving all her nerves tingling and her brain muggy, but not muggy enough to stop her from abandoning duty. The cool night winds caressed her body, and she closed her eyes, taking in the life of the world, the very atmosphere that allowed them to breathe and thrive.
Sometimes, she thought idly, life really did come down to the simple things. When everything else was a burden, sometimes only the freedom of nature eased those weights. Sometimes it felt beautiful. Other times, it reminded Luan that for all her confidence, her poise, she was close to no one.
Back in the manse, the strange mood kept her under thrall, and she barely paid any attention to Kerrick’s status report about the connections he’d made, and the intel gathered from the other no
bles. She slumped in an armchair opposite him, and he offered her a drink, which she refused, because she was already a little over the edge, and didn’t want to fall further and lose what little control she possessed.
“I’d rather not end up being like some foolish teenager and sicking up everything because of excessive alcohol consumption,” Luan said, holding her palm out to Kerrick.
“You did look like you were having fun at least,” he said, taking the offering away and settling back into his own armchair. “You and Alex seem made of the same stuff. It was nice to have you doing something other than glowering like you’re one thought away from committing murder.”
“I wouldn’t be a very good bodyguard if I didn’t look intimidating now, would I?” Luan said with a smile. She watched as Kerrick’s eyes traced the tattoos along her arms, and the barest hint at her ankles, and his pupils expanded. A warm rush flooded her body that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
Oh, storms no, she thought, an edge of panic to her emotions. Maybe she was closer to losing control than she previously believed. Kerrick staring at her like that did all sorts of things. Like make her aware of every breath she took, of the way her hand jumped with her quickening pulse, and a strange heat trapping itself between her thighs.
Even as her mind protested, it also conjured up salacious thoughts, of her peeling off all her clothes, letting his eyes rake over her inked skin, warm shivers running through her body as his fingertips traced the patterns. They said lust induced a haze, a fever of the mind and soul, that transformed someone from rational and controlled to desperate and needy.
“That’s true. I always feel bad, though, seeing you like that. I want you to smile. Selfish as that sounds. To see a part of my world and not be left out of it.”
“No offense, prince, but I think you dislike that part of your world almost as much as I do. You’re just better at hiding it.”