Over the next week, the arrangement became quite familiar, and never once did Jocelyn feel afraid in the nighttime hours. In line with his new and apparently unnatural instinct of protection, Elddreki formed the habit of sleeping curled in an arc, his mighty tail stretched around to complete the circle of safety in which the two humans slept. The three of them often chatted easily as they slipped toward slumber, and Jocelyn couldn’t help but compare the strange but comfortable camaraderie of the group with the inevitable pompous formality of the state visit she was supposed to be paying at that moment.
They continued to move rapidly through pleasant Valorian farmland, but Jocelyn’s hope of outrunning rumors of their presence was soon shown to be foolish. They may have left the gossiping townsfolk of Thalia far behind, but the countryside became increasingly more populated as they moved away from the North Wilds. Elddreki always stayed out of the way on the occasions when they went into towns in order to restock on food. But the rest of the time he stayed close by, and his vast reptilian form could hardly fail to attract notice as he glided along above them, or ambled casually on the ground beside them.
After a few days Jocelyn almost stopped noticing the inevitable screams of terror that emerged any time Elddreki flew over a settlement, and had ceased to feel sorry for the lone goatherds they regularly saw fleeing from the travelers’ approach. They would get over it soon enough, when they realized the beast was gone and they hadn’t been eaten. They would probably relive the moment with excitement for the rest of their lives, the story growing with each retelling at the local tavern. Kincaid hadn’t been wrong that Elddreki would metaphorically set the countryside on fire. Jocelyn had no doubt Valorians far and wide would be discussing the journey of the dragon for decades to come.
And she had no fear of being attacked again. The almost universal reaction to the dragon’s appearance was to run and hide. And when it was clear the travelers were just passing through, no one seemed inclined to pursue them. A few bolder Valorians approached them for a closer look when they were resting, always with endearingly futile attempts at stealth, but no one actually tried to speak with them. And it seemed likely now that if any foolhardy local did attempt to do the group harm, Elddreki would protect his human companions.
“Do you think word has reached Bryford by now about Elddreki being in Valoria?” Jocelyn asked Kincaid on one occasion, as they passed a farmer’s cottage and she watched a mother pulling a small child indoors with a frantic scream.
“Probably,” said Kincaid cheerfully. They had slowed to a trot, but Elddreki was still flying, moving in large circles so as not to get too far ahead.
“Do you think the king will send a squadron of guards to try to…I don’t know…deal with him?”
“Who knows?” said Kincaid, unconcerned. He grinned. “It would be quite entertaining if he did, don’t you think?”
“Maybe for you,” said Jocelyn dryly.
“What do you mean?”
She raised her eyebrows, surprised by Kincaid’s tone. “Just that I don’t particularly want to run into the king right now.” She gestured down at her disheveled appearance. She was still wearing the red-brown dress, and it wasn’t altogether clean. Her wound was hardly troubling her anymore, and no longer needed to be bandaged, but the gaping hole in her sleeve remained. “Not the best first impression.”
“Oh, I see what you mean,” said Kincaid, following her gesture with his eyes and nodding in agreement, not very chivalrously. “But surely the king wouldn’t come himself.”
“Hopefully not.” Jocelyn was silent for a moment, her thoughts straying toward the distant Bryford. “Prince Ormond wouldn’t be sent on such a mission, would he?” she asked nervously.
Kincaid glanced over at her quickly. “I don’t know,” he said apologetically. “It’s not impossible.”
Jocelyn gave a small groan, and Kincaid looked like he was trying to hide a smile.
“What else can you tell me about him?” she asked. “You said he’s tall and fair. Is he handsome?”
Kincaid’s smile instantly disappeared, and he shifted uncomfortably on his horse. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think my opinion on the topic would be very authoritative.”
“Well, what do girls say when he rides past?” asked Jocelyn impatiently. “Does your sister think he’s handsome?”
Kincaid paused, considering it. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. He saw Jocelyn’s skepticism, and added, “Maybe fourteen is too young to swoon over a prince.”
“Hm.” Jocelyn thought of her own fourteen-year-old self—not to mention Lucy at that age—and pursed her lips skeptically. “Well, what do older girls say? Do they swoon over him?”
Kincaid sighed. “Yes, I suppose they do. But it’s probably just because he’s the prince. I don’t think he’s all that handsome, really.”
Jocelyn raised her eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t have an opinion.”
Kincaid shrugged one shoulder, looking slightly petulant. Jocelyn looked down to hide her smile, choosing not to explore why she felt so pleased that Kincaid resented the absent Prince Ormond.
“I wonder what his personality is like,” she mused. “Probably old and boring.”
Kincaid let out a sudden snort of laughter, his mood instantly lifting. “What did you say?”
Jocelyn grinned back at him. “It’s what my best friend said, or her little brother first I suppose.” She sighed, deflating slightly. “All too likely, I’m guessing, him being crown prince and all. Old and boring and serious.”
Kincaid looked amused. “Is that what Eamon is like? He’s crown prince.”
Jocelyn chuckled. “That’s what Lucy said. No, he’s not like that at all, thankfully. But like I’ve said before, my family are not your typical royals.”
“Is Lucy your best friend?” asked Kincaid curiously, and Jocelyn nodded. “Tell me about her,” Kincaid persisted. “I told you enough stories yesterday about my sister, and about Henrik.” He named his own best friend. “It’s your turn.”
“Well…” Jocelyn paused, wondering how to sum up sixteen years of friendship in a few sentences. “Luciana is the best. We were destined to be friends, because our fathers are very close childhood friends themselves. So much so that I call her parents aunt and uncle, although there’s no actual relation. Uncle Jonan and my father grew up like brothers, before Father knew he was royal. Lucy is a year younger than I am, and we’ve been close since before I can remember. But it’s not just because of the family connection,” she hastened to add. “I’m sure we’d be friends under any circumstances. She’s sweet, and kind, and funny, and the most trusting person you’ll ever meet.”
She smiled. “She’s also an extremely skilled fighter, like her mother, but not by choice.”
“Not by choice?” Kincaid repeated, confused, and Jocelyn’s smile grew.
“Her parents make her train, and she always showed a much greater aptitude than I ever did. But she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t like the idea of hurting anyone. She’s got her mother’s gentle nature. Lately it’s become an absolute battle to get her to spar with me.” Jocelyn’s tone turned dry. “You’d think she would enjoy it, since she always beats me, every single time.” She shook her head. “But she quite likes her throwing knives. She’s trained most with them, and they’re probably her best weapon.” Jocelyn rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure it’s just because she could practice on a target, without running the risk of hurting anyone by accident.”
“She sounds great,” said Kincaid. “I would like to meet her one day.”
“She’s also stunningly, stunningly beautiful,” said Jocelyn, her tone slightly flatter. And come to think of it, I don’t particularly want you to meet her. She didn’t speak the last words aloud, ashamed of them even in her own head.
“Does she look like you?” asked Kincaid, his expression innocent.
Jocelyn chuckled. “Not at all. We’re opposites in terms of appearance. She’s dark, I’
m light. I’ve often thought it ironic, because our personalities are the opposite way around.”
“Your personality isn’t dark, Joss,” scolded Kincaid, with a frown. “So this Luciana has dark hair?” He leaned over in his saddle, flicking her braid impudently. “That’s certainly the opposite to you.”
She swatted his hand away, although she was secretly pleased. “Yes, she does, but it’s also her skin.” She chuckled to herself. “She’s an exotic beauty, you see. She’s half Balenan.”
“Really?” Kincaid sounded startled, and Jocelyn looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “I don’t have anything against Balenans,” he clarified quickly. “I’m just surprised the royal family is so close with a half-Balenan family. I thought relations between Kyona and Balenol were still pretty frosty, what with the whole, you know…”
“Centuries of exploitation and slavery?” Jocelyn finished for him.
“Well, yes.”
“You’re not wrong,” Jocelyn admitted. “Things will probably always be tense. But none of that is Lucy’s fault.”
“Of course not,” Kincaid agreed hastily. He looked at her curiously. “So if her father grew up with your father in Kyona, does that mean it’s her mother who’s Balenan?”
“That’s right. Aunt Scarlett.” Jocelyn’s eyes misted over for a moment. “She’s amazing. One of my favorite people. And she’s even more stunningly beautiful than Luciana.” She looked over at Kincaid, who was watching her impatiently, clearly interested less in Aunt Scarlett’s appearance and more in the story behind the Balenan’s presence in Kyona.
Jocelyn sighed. “She met Uncle Jonan when he went to Balenol, not long after my father took the throne,” she said. “That was when the slave trade was still flourishing. In fact,” she paused, “they were the ones who stopped the slave trade.” She could see Kincaid was intrigued, and she pushed on.
“Aunt Scarlett was a Balenan noblewoman, an influential one—she’s a cousin of their royal family, and she grew up at the castle. Plus, her father was the Overseer of Slaves, but she was against the trade. She had this secret double life, like a spy in the Balenan court, even though she was my age. She started a resistance with renegade slaves who lived in the jungle, and they did everything they could to undermine the trade.”
She snuck a look at Kincaid and thought he looked impressed.
“But the slaves who they liberated couldn’t cross the sea back to Kyona because there was a curse,” she continued. She glanced up at Elddreki, circling overhead. “A curse created by dragon magic.”
“I’ve heard about that,” said Kincaid, sounding awed. “I thought the stories had been hugely exaggerated, but maybe I was wrong.”
Jocelyn shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d grown, but the truth was pretty incredible, so maybe not. Uncle Jonan and Aunt Scarlett figured it out and broke the curse, then the freed slaves could all come back. Plus the Balenans found out about the friendship between the Kyonan royals and the dragons, and they released the rest of the slaves, too.”
“The freedmen,” Kincaid said, and she nodded. “And your Uncle Jonan and Aunt Scarlett obviously decided to stay in Kyona?”
Jocelyn chuckled darkly. “I don’t think they would have been very welcome back in Balenol, to be honest. They went for a visit a year or so after they were married, and it was…eventful. They never went back. Lucy and her brothers—she has three younger brothers—have never even been there. Besides, there was no real reason for them to want to settle in Balenol once all the slaves came back to Kyona. Aunt Scarlett might be Balenan, and Uncle Jonan might never have been a slave, but the freedmen are their people, really.”
“Are there many other Balenans in Kyona?” Kincaid asked curiously.
“Not many,” said Jocelyn. “What about in Valoria?”
Kincaid shook his head. “Very few. We do more trade with Thorania than with Balenol.” He frowned thoughtfully. “There was some Balenan diplomat or other who spent some time in Bryford recently. I remember seeing him around, riding about with the royals. I can’t remember why he was here.”
Jocelyn frowned. “That’s peculiar. I wonder if he really was an official diplomat. No such person has come to Kynton recently. Like I said, Aunt Scarlett is related to the royal family, and I would have thought if they were sending a delegation they would at least have sent them to pay their respects…but then maybe the delegates refused to come to Kyona.”
“Surely they couldn’t refuse if they were officially sent,” Kincaid protested.
Jocelyn shrugged. “Most Balenans are extremely prejudiced against Kyonans from what I’ve heard. Some of them think of us as little more than animals. Not many would choose to come to our kingdom, even to visit.”
Kincaid raised his eyebrows. “You say that pretty calmly. I’d be angry if my people were seen that way by another kingdom.”
Jocelyn shrugged again. “It’s not a new discovery. And even though I know some Balenans think that way, the only ones I really know are Lucy’s family, who are such wonderful people. They live only a few hours’ ride from Kynton, and I’m as comfortable in their home as I am in my own.” She sighed. “More, sometimes.”
“And the members of your father’s court really don’t object to that level of intimacy between them and your family?”
Jocelyn chuckled. “If they do object, they keep it to themselves.” Kincaid gave her a questioning look, and she smiled fondly. “My father is an even tempered man, but there are lines you don’t cross with him, and the whole court knows it. No one would criticize Uncle Jonan or his family in front of my father any more than they would dare to make a disparaging remark about my mother’s common blood in his presence.”
Kincaid smiled responsively. “I like the sound of King Calinnae,” he said warmly. He looked sideways at her. “I’m guessing he’s a protective father, especially of you.”
Jocelyn sighed, deflating. “Yes, he certainly is. And you’ve got it exactly right when you say especially of me. I don’t think he has a very high opinion of my capability, and even though I know why he has that impression, and that it’s not his fault, it’s still hard to take sometimes.”
“That’s not what I meant, Jocelyn,” said Kincaid, irritated. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” said Kincaid, his tone frustrated. “You interpret everything in a certain light, as if you’re some kind of problem.” Jocelyn was silent, unsure how to respond, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “All I meant was that you must be your father’s most precious treasure. Isn’t it common for fathers to be especially protective of their daughters?”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” said Jocelyn lightly.
“And I like that he’s not uptight, like your brother is.”
“Eamon is not—” Jocelyn started to protest, but she cut herself off, rolling her eyes, when she saw Kincaid’s cheeky grin. Of course he was baiting her.
“But seriously,” Kincaid continued. “It shows great strength of character that your father isn’t deterred by prejudice from letting you grow up basically as siblings with Lucy and her family. What?” He frowned at Jocelyn’s barely stifled choke of laughter. “What did I say that was funny?”
“Not quite like siblings,” Jocelyn giggled. “Maybe like cousins. But even that…” She grinned. “I’m just trying to imagine Eamon’s reaction to someone calling Lucy his sister.”
“Why would that—oh!” Kincaid’s frown smoothed into a look of surprise. “It’s like that, is it?”
“Of course it is,” said Jocelyn, smiling indulgently. “Didn’t I tell you she’s the sweetest person in the kingdom, not to mention stunningly beautiful?” She gave him a cheeky grin. “Sorry to tell you she’s already spoken for. I know you were very eager to meet her.”
Kincaid rolled his eyes. “I’ll struggle on somehow.” He gave her a curious look. “Is she really spoken for? By your brother?”
“Not officially,” Jocelyn said hastily. “But the feeling is definitely mutual. No one who knows either of them well has any doubt as to the outcome. They’re childhood sweethearts, I guess. It’s adorable, really.” She sighed. “Or it would be if it wasn’t my brother and my best friend.” She wrinkled her nose. “The way she looks at him sometimes. You want to talk about girls swooning over princes…” She shook her head. “But of course I would feel that way, because he’s my brother. I don’t actually dislike it. They’re very well-suited I think.”
“Do…do your parents know about it?” Kincaid asked hesitantly.
“Of course,” said Jocelyn, surprised. “I told you anyone close to them is fully aware of which way the wind is blowing. My parents love Luciana.”
Kincaid was silent for a moment, his expression hard to read.
“What?”
“It’s just…do you really think they’ll be allowed to marry? Wouldn’t that mean she would be queen one day?”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Jocelyn slowly, starting to understand the direction of Kincaid’s thoughts. “She’ll make an excellent queen.”
“I don’t mean any slight on your friend,” said Kincaid quickly. “But with everything we’ve just been discussing regarding tensions between Kyona and Balenol—not to mention the current prejudice around the freedmen—do you really think Eamon will be allowed to choose her? The next heir to the throne would have Balenan blood, and might not even look Kyonan. Would the court stand for it?”
Jocelyn was silent for a long moment. “They’ll just have to accept it,” she said, her teeth gritted. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought of this issue before. She had, many times. And she was as determined as she had always been that she wasn’t going to let people like Sir Sanctimonious get their way, not with Eamon’s happiness on the line.
Legacy of the Curse Page 28