by Eva Brandt
I’d never actually used my new claws for anything nonsexual but even so, my aim was impeccable. In one single, clean motion, I slit February’s throat, the sharp tips tearing out his jugular as efficiently as the fangs of a vengeful amarok would have. The blow was not quite enough to instantly end his life, and February let out a choked gurgle, his magic flaring one last time before it went still and silent.
It was a grim, sad moment. Abby and Terry placed my now deceased lieutenant onto the floor without being told to. As they stepped back, a bright, white glow emerged from February’s body, swirling in the air like a miniature star. I extended my hand and the light obeyed me like an eager amarok pup, drifting into my blood-stained palm. As soon as it made contact with my skin, it turned into an ice-blue crystal that pulsed with the eternal magic of Chronikos. At the same time, February’s corpse dissipated, leaving behind a puddle of melting, bloody snow and the remnants of a uniform he had worn for too long.
Pocketing the crystal, I directed my attention to the people who had come to witness February’s execution. Pandora and Eranthe were, of course, by my side, together with my dragons and their families, and they did not need any words of comfort or reassurances. The citizens were an entirely different matter. They had gone through a terrible experience, or rather two, if I counted the whole business with Jack’s enchantment. This would not be the end of it either. Snegurka’s spirit was still free, and she would eventually return to attempt to claim the throne, as well as the soulmates and body she perceived as hers. I had no doubt that she could do just as much damage as February had even without his help.
And then there was the still-ailing Ded Moroz, who had yet to awaken after the failed ritual despite the fact that even Eranthe had attempted to help him. On one hand, his enduring illness meant that I did not have to execute two people who had been so important for the realm for so long, but on the other, the strange limbo of his situation made matters worse.
“My people, troubling times are upon us,” I said. It was the understatement of the century, but they were already scared enough without me emphasizing the seriousness of our problem further. “We’ve been dealt a heavy blow and the land weeps due to the loss of so many lives. However, rest assured that I will not allow any of the remaining culprits to go unpunished. Tou Cheimóna still stands strong, and we will weather this storm just like we have countless others in the past.
“Let this be a lesson to all of us, to embrace the gifts the gods have given us, but never take them for granted. Let us remember and honor those who have fallen, and in their names, create a nation that no one will ever dare to threaten again.”
The last thing I wanted was for the people to actually disregard the threat Snegurka posed, but even so, I knew they needed this encouragement from their queen, just like I had needed it from my soulmates. In this, I was proven right, and the speech worked better than I expected. The tension in the throne room seemed to pop, and the crowd exploded into cheers and applause that held so much relief I felt guilty for my small deception. “All hail Queen Cheimon!”
“Long live the queen!”
“May her reign be as eternal as the snow!”
The latter sentence, unsurprisingly uttered by January, reminded me that I needed to speak with my remaining two lieutenants. I allowed the populace to express their enthusiasm for a little while longer, and once I decided I’d indulged them enough, I lifted my hand to quiet them. “Go now, and may the serenity of the gods lighten your steps.”
My subjects readily followed my command and one by one drifted out of the throne room. After what seemed like forever, the door closed behind them, leaving me alone with my inner circle. I turned toward January and December, and almost instantly, they dropped to their knees in front of me, shaking like they expected me to slit their throats as well.
I had seen this coming, of course. Ever since they had started to recover from the attack, they had been stuck in a vicious circle of shock, anger, and dread. I could understand their plight, but that didn’t mean the attitude didn’t frustrate me. “Please, rise,” I told them. “Stop looking so terrified. You realize that what happened with February will not influence my opinion of you and your service in any way, don’t you?”
January stood with some reluctance, perhaps perceiving any stance other than the kneeling as inappropriate. “We would deserve it. We should have seen this betrayal coming, should have done more to prevent it.”
“We noticed February was acting strangely, but we did nothing,” December said, as distraught as his fellow lieutenant. “We have failed you.”
It wasn’t entirely false, although it wasn’t true either. I didn’t begrudge them for their behavior, but I did acknowledge that their inability to communicate with me was one of the reasons for this disaster. We had all failed the people since if we had been more careful, the thirty-two innocents who had died in February’s attack would still be alive.
“You’ve made mistakes, yes,” I agreed, “but so have I. We will have to learn from this and do better. But do not fear. I do not blame you for not seeing your friend as a homicidal maniac.
“That being said, this incident has placed us in a difficult position. Eventually, I will need to find a replacement for February. Until then, I’m relying on both of you to be as conscientious as possible in your duties. January, you will have to take over February’s duties as ambassador with my sister.”
January’s eyes widened. It was a great honor to be trusted with the task since the products we received from Eranthe were so important to the smooth functioning of our realm. Perhaps he had expected that I would assign the duty to one of my dragons. “Y-Yes, Your Majesty. I will not fail you.”
“I look forward to welcoming you in The Realm of Eternal Youth,” Eranthe said, speaking for the first time since the beginning of the trial. “I am sure we will work well together.”
I silently agreed, although I also knew my sister would do her utmost to make sure treason like February’s didn’t happen again. I expected January to be the target of some deceptively gentle, but smooth interrogations in the near future.
“December, you will coordinate with my dragons to strengthen our garrisons and improve our military. Snegurka remains a problem, and we will have to be prepared for her next attack.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Take heart, men. We will surpass this crisis as well. The losses we have suffered pain me, but they are also a lesson, to not let the fear of what we don’t understand morph us into something we are not supposed to be.” I shot them a small smile to soften the mild reprimand intrinsic to my latter words. “You’re dismissed.”
My lieutenants bowed one last time, and then shuffled out of the room, leaving a trail of agitated magic behind. I watched them go in silence and once I was sure they were out of earshot, let out a disgruntled sigh. “That went well.”
“They are still afraid,” Pandora said, her voice as mellow and smooth as the red wine she sometimes sent to me as a gift. “It will get better.”
“I doubt it. They’ve been afraid of me ever since I took the throne, precisely because the last queen was a brutal tyrant. That was centuries ago. I can’t imagine me executing their fellow lieutenant in their presence will help matters.”
“Well, Your Majesty,” Isebrand piped up, “it might not be my place to say this, but I have to commend you for your approach. Granted, when it comes to traitors, we prefer evisceration, but there is a certain poetic beauty about going for the throat too.”
I turned and stared at him in disbelief. “All right... I have to ask. What is it about dragons and evisceration? Is it a fetish? Should I be concerned? Because I won’t lie, it’s been popping up quite often in conversation lately.”
Emmerich arched a brow at me, not particularly taken aback by the question, but perhaps sensing my real reason for it. “It is not a fetish, treasure. It is just... rightful punishment. What we perceive your enemies deserve.”
“We are
your males, remember?” Raijin pointed out. “When our mate is threatened, we tend to not take it well. Every species of dragon has its own way of handling such matters, and evisceration is the go-to approach used by firedrakes.”
“We’ll all gladly show you our respective methods, on whomever you want, if you ever deem it necessary,” Kerryn finished.
I had no doubt that they meant their offer, and I found that I appreciated it. I had always hoped that I could bring about a new era in the history of Tou Cheimóna, one that would hold less bloodshed and more peace. But good intentions were not enough to protect what I most valued. I thought about the amarok pup who had almost died in my arms, Terry’s unborn cub and all the people in my realm whom I hadn’t gotten the chance to save. I remembered Snegurka’s laughter when she had deemed me weak. I could not falter again. “Perhaps I will take you up on that,” I promised my dragons, “if I don’t deal with it myself.”
I might have still had doubts about how I would handle the confrontation with Snegurka, but one thing remained perfectly clear to me. Somehow, I would find her and punish her, just like I had punished February. No matter how much my past still weighed on me, I would not let it destroy my future.
* * *
Cheimon
A little over a week after February’s attack, my dragons’ families prepared themselves to depart. They had already stayed longer than anticipated, as they had insisted to help with the reconstruction of the palace, but they finally needed to return home.
Together with my soulmates, I led the older six dragons into the bailey, in front of the main keep that housed my residence. It was almost strange, since very little time had passed since their arrival, and yet, the same courtyard where they’d first landed looked so very different. Some of the outer fortifications that protected the palace had yet to be rebuilt and I probably wouldn’t be addressing the lingering cosmetic damage for months. I had the distant, stray thought that it was a weirdly appropriate analogy for my own life and the general direction it appeared to be headed in.
My dragons’ families did not display the same melancholy, although they were still as respectful as they had been all throughout their stay. “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty,” Noboru said with a polite bow. “Once again, we apologize for all the trouble we have caused you.”
“You yourselves were not the cause of any trouble,” I reminded him. “It’s hardly your fault that my lieutenant hated dragons more than he loved his realm.”
It was true. I didn’t blame them for any of the dreadful things that had occurred. Even if their arrival had indirectly been the one to trigger February’s outburst, I suspected the incident would have taken place eventually, either way. Such things didn’t happen overnight, and February’s opinion of me must have been souring for a while now. I’d spoken to Eranthe about it, and she had confessed she had noticed some strangeness in February too, but she’d always deemed it a natural consequence of him being away from his homeland.
Before she and Pandora had departed for their own realms, we had investigated the wards around both Chronikos and Snegurka’s prison. We had determined that the only damage the seal at Oki’s garrison had received was from my own subordinate. Chronikos’ wards remained intact, having recovered after the breach the dragons had made, but we still wanted to strengthen them at some point in the near future, after I recovered a little more from Snegurka and February’s attack.
None of my sisters liked the situation much, and not just because I’d nearly been killed. We all wondered now what else we had missed while we had been busy believing that our realms were perfectly safe and prosperous. I’d planned to make a change even before this whole thing had happened and had enlisted my dragons to help me with my project, but the new training module had not been enough to keep my people safe. We had to try harder.
I pushed away my self-deprecating thoughts and directed my attention to my guests once again. “You are always welcome here, in The Realm of Eternal Ice.”
“And our own lairs are open to you at any time, Your Majesty. We trust that after you deal with this horrid Snegurka creature, you will be able to visit Terra Dracones.”
The vote of confidence was nice, as was the invitation. Dragons didn’t make such offers lightly, as their lairs were sacred to them. It was actually a little strange, but it appeared that this whole business with February had assuaged their doubts about me and earned me their trust and respect. Apparently, the sight of me tearing my enemy’s throat out with my magically created claws had convinced them that I was truly their sons’ soulmate. Draconic families really did have interesting standards.
With the pleasantries out of the way, the six older dragons proceeded to shift, preparing themselves for the long journey ahead. Before they could depart, Jerika had one last request for me. “Do let us know if and when we can expect hatchlings. We look forward to it very much.”
I was sure that they did, and I now found that a part of me felt the same. I could not yet envision a future in which I would have children, not when everything else was so uncertain, but maybe, someday, when The Realm of Eternal Ice was safe, starting a family with my dragons would be nice.
It was much too soon to make such decisions. Technically, my dragons and I weren’t even married, and I’d have to notify my parents of my intentions in some way. But I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to reassure my soulmates’ families that I wouldn’t leave them heirless. “We’ll keep in touch,” I promised Emmerich’s mother. “And yes, we will let you know of any news regarding possible hatchlings.”
Brigid perked up at my words, obviously as excited as Jerika, if not more so. “Wonderful!” she exclaimed, her barbed tail swaying through the air in an almost hypnotic manner. “If there is anything we can do to help, we will happily assist you. I have an ancient book of names! Oh, we can pick hatchling names together. I can’t...”
Devin cleared his throat, and his mate trailed off as if she had just realized what she was saying. “Not that we would intrude in your lair and your bond, of course,” she continued hastily, “but if you do need us, we are at your disposal.”
Despite the almost overwhelming enthusiasm, the exchange was sort of heartwarming. I probably wouldn’t have felt the same had it been something daily, but since Kerryn’s parents were leaving, and I probably wouldn’t see them again for ages, I could be magnanimous about this. “Thank you,” I answered. “I appreciate your words and the offer. I’m sure your advice will come in handy in the future.”
Kasumi curled her long, serpentine body around her very embarrassed-looking son and said, “You’ll do fine. The first hatchling is always the toughest, but we are confident that a strong female like you can handle it. And of course, your males are more than capable of assisting you, both with the first pregnancy and with your future clutches.”
“I believe that goes without saying,” Brigid offered. “My Kerryn is a wonderful mate to Her Majesty. You only have to look at them to realize that they are meant to be.”
Jerika huffed, a small flare of fire erupting from her nostrils. “Perhaps, but you can’t deny how well-matched Her Majesty is to my Emmerich. And you know what they say. Opposites attract. Clearly, he is the fire to her ice.”
At this point, Kasumi decided to intervene once again, perhaps feeling slighted that her own son had yet to be mentioned by name. “Please. While it is understandable that we need to respect Her Majesty’s choice and bond, you also have to accept that a ryū’s magic will always be better aligned to a female like her.”
The exchange reminded me of the argument Brigid, Kasumi and Jerika had had the day we’d first met. I decided to step in before it could escalate to proportions that might inflict more destruction upon my courtyard than February already had. “I am indeed a very fortunate woman, and I love my three soulmates equally. I assure you there is no reason to have this debate.”
The three dragon females visibly relaxed at my words. “Ah,” Brigid said. “I see. Our ap
ologies. We are still getting accustomed to your way of doing things.”
Kasumi released Raijin from her coils and bowed slightly. “It appears we were misinterpreting things yet again. I hope our behavior doesn’t trouble you too much.”
“Rest assured that despite our dispute, the offer for aid remains valid,” Jerika chose to remind me. “You know you can rely on us.”
At that, Emmerich’s temper finally exploded. “Yes, Mother. She knows. And yes, we are more than capable of protecting her. For gods’ sake, stop embarrassing us in front of our soulmate.”
To his credit, he was managing to control his powers, but he was obviously not happy at having his ability to protect me repeatedly questioned like this. Raijin and Kerryn felt the same. “We understand your concern, but we will be able to handle Snegurka and her ilk just fine,” Kerryn assured them.
“There is no need for reinforcements or anything like that,” Raijin said.
Reinforcements? Oh, dear. Had my dragons’ families been thinking about such an option? Yes, that probably wasn’t a good plan. I didn’t think my still recovering realm could handle an avalanche of dragons right now, no matter how well-meaning they might all be.
“Well, if you’re sure,” Brigid answered with a sigh. “But we will still be waiting for news on your clutches!”
It was as I watched them all fly away in a group that the meaning of those words—and that of the whole conversation—finally processed. In hindsight, I should have maybe realized it sooner, since I had known that my dragons were reptilian and their mothers had made similar references countless times before during their stay. I’d just been so distracted by other factors that the implications hadn’t occurred to me.
“Wait, did your mothers just say ‘clutch’?” I screeched at my dragons. “Does that mean I’m going to lay eggs?”