by Emma Hamm
They were the ones who had requested he marry Sigrid. They were the ones who thought such an alliance would stop the war, although he now knew they had other intentions the entire time.
Now, they could live with the consequences.
Gathering his dignity close, Abdul straightened his shoulders and loudly sniffed. “We’re well aware of your opinions, and while we do not agree with them, we thought perhaps there is a way for all of us to get what we want.”
Nadir leaned back in his chair, noting the dark expression on Abdul’s face. What had his advisor planned out? “I hardly think that possible, advisor, but perhaps you can teach me something new after all.”
Abdul lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. One of the other advisors, a person who should have thought of themselves at the same station, rushed to the doors behind Nadir and opened them.
He would not shift. He would not move to look behind him until they brought whatever it was before him. A sultan did not have to move unless he wanted to.
The clanking of chains reached his ears. He didn’t know of any prisoners. Not yet, at least.
Nadir gritted his teeth so hard he could hear them, but stilled his body in anticipation. He could not show them any kind of response, because that was what they wanted. This entire council enjoyed playing games. It didn’t matter that it was another person’s life. A game was still a game.
His gaze locked with Abdul’s, then Nadir parted his lips in a sneer. “What have you done, advisor?”
“Only what you would have done, Sultan.”
Before he could ask what that meant, a woman walked in front of him, trailed by the other advisor who had let her into the room. There were two armored guards behind her, their helms gleaming and reflecting rainbows of light as they passed by the windows.
His attention didn’t stay on the guards, however, but the woman who walked in front of them. She must have been a beauty in her day. Her dark hair gleamed even through the matted tangles, and her skin was caramel smooth. Unfortunately, it was also dotted with hundreds of scars.
They’d dressed her in little more than a sack. It hung from her figure limp and loose, but the closer Nadir looked, the more he realized it wasn’t because she was thin or malnourished. Instead, the clothing was simply too big. Muscles bulged from her arms, impressive in size and strength.
This was no weak woman.
She glanced up at him, as if she felt his gaze, and her eyes seared him to the bone. There was so much hatred locked in her eyes, along with a desire to live that resonated within her soul.
Manacles encircled her wrists, connected with a chain that looped through a metal collar at her neck. The clanking sounds echoed in the room, but he didn’t care so much about the bindings. He’d seen many more people in chains than most would in their entire lives.
What he did care about was the way her eyes flashed from human to animal. Back and forth, almost uncontrollably as if they had done something to her.
A growl rumbled in his chest. “Who is this?”
Abdul swept the long train of his tunic to the side and strode toward the captive woman. “You wanted a way to encourage the people to trust. This is, perhaps, the most dangerous Beastkin woman we’ve ever encountered. To show them that this one can change would go a long way in convincing them that your intentions are to protect Bymerians.”
“And how am I supposed to convince them of that?”
His advisor ignored Nadir for a moment, moving in front of the captive woman and tucking a finger underneath her chin. To her credit, she stared at Abdul with just as much hatred and anger as before. He hadn’t managed to intimidate her.
A smile spread across Abdul’s face, but it wasn’t a nice one. “There are ways to break a mind. We’ll work with her, tame this creature, and you can show the rest of Bymere that Beastkin can change. We can train them to be more than just animals.”
Fire burned in Nadir’s chest. It seared his bones and sizzled in his veins until he was little more than rage. Forcing his words to remain steady, Nadir replied, “We are not animals, advisor. Or perhaps, you have forgotten that a Beastkin sits upon the throne.”
“By choice of the people.” Abdul looked over his shoulder, finger digging into the woman’s neck. “And that choice can change just as easily as it was made.”
Nadir didn’t want to admit that he was correct. It was hard enough to have his secret out in the world. People still flinched away from him in fear when he walked the streets. As they should. He was a dragon, after all, and could easily destroy the entire city if he wanted to.
But he didn’t want to. The fact was an important one that he needed his people to understand fully and completely. Unfortunately, he couldn’t convince his people of that without the support of the council.
His fingers curled around the arms of the chair he sat in, squeezing so hard he was surprised the fragile wood didn’t shatter under the force of his rage. Pushing himself to standing, he flicked his fingers at Abdul.
“Move.”
Abdul stepped back just enough so that it appeared he respected Nadir’s authority. But not so far that he couldn’t overhear everything Nadir would say to the Beastkin woman. Let him. Nadir didn’t care if his advisors heard the words he was about to let slip off his tongue. They no longer ruled here, although they liked to think they had him pinned down.
He let the thoughts fall away from him and stood in front of the Beastkin woman. Not a single clue marked her body to hint at what she might be. Her eyes, though changing back and forth from human, could have been anything in their golden hues.
She stared up at him just as defiantly as all the others. Perhaps she hadn’t heard their sultan was a Beastkin man as well. Or perhaps, like so many others, she simply didn’t care.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Tahira.”
“What do you turn into, Tahira?”
She glared at him and remained silent.
Nadir noted the thick metal around her throat had rubbed the tender skin nearly raw. Red tendrils spread out from it, and he wondered if that might mean it was infected. “You are safe here,” he tried to reassure her.
“Safe?” she spat at him, anger simmering until her eyes were nearly red. “I’ve never been safe in Bymere. Neither has any of my people.”
“You are now.” He hoped. Nadir realized he couldn’t quite promise that, and in fact, it was likely still a lie. He was the only Beastkin they tolerated, and that was because he was useful. Blowing out a slow breath, he shook his head. “Or will be. So why don’t you tell me what you turn into?”
“You’ll find out someday, boy king.”
He likely deserved that, but it wasn’t particularly an answer that helped him. Glancing over at Abdul, he nodded at the woman. “She’s not an easy one.”
“There are ways to break a person.”
“And none of them you will use on her.” Nadir looked back at her in time to catch her expression of surprise before it shifted back to anger. “We’ve done enough to this poor woman.”
Her cracked lips spread into a smile. “You have no idea what goes on behind closed doors, little sultan. You think you’re a man? You haven’t seen a single thing of what your advisors do when your eyes are closed or your back is turned.”
He’d suspected as much. There were a hundred things he’d uncovered and he’d likely find another thousand more. But here was a chance for him to start making amends. In an exaggerated sweep, Nadir bowed low to her and quietly murmured, “I know, huntress.”
The honorable word was only given to women who had proven themselves to their sultan and to their country. He only knew of a handful, and they all lived in Falldell where the greatest assassins were trained.
Glancing up, he saw her face turn white. In horror or shock, he didn’t know. Neither mattered.
Nadir nodded at one of her guards. “Have her placed in the other Beastkin woman’s quarters for now. Tell the concubines to wash her and d
ress her.”
“Sultan?” Even the guard was surprised he’d place her with the women who were considered the nation’s flowers.
“They’ve dealt with two Beastkin women before,” he replied, amused. “They’ll know how to deal with her as well.”
Truth be told, he wasn’t so confident his concubines knew what they were doing. But he’d give them the benefit of the doubt and hoped they knew how to do something with the woman. Unlike Sigrid and her people, they enjoyed making other women look like delicate little flowers. They were good at that, and their skills were far beyond his own.
His advisors thought they were going to catch him with this. They thought he wouldn’t spend the time to encourage the Beastkin woman to be more human than animal. That he wouldn’t work with her or put forth the effort.
He was curious what she turned into. That would help him perhaps understand her mind. As far as he knew, the Beastkin were different personalities depending on the creature they had inside them. He’d observed that with Sigrid and her friend, Camilla.
Gods, he hoped he was right.
Waving his hand, he gestured for the guard to take the woman away.
She glared at him. Tahira, the woman who had no fear in her eyes. He’d have to remember her as something like this. She might be a little more frightened in the coming days.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked the guard. “Another prison?”
“Something like that.” The guard’s voice was amused, and Nadir’s lips twitched in a small smile.
At least there were a few Bymerians who were more curious about the Beastkin than the others. This guard in particular seemed to see the women as something more than just an animal. Men? It was a little harder to look another soldier in the eye and think them stronger. But women pulled at the heartstrings. They were bringers of life. They deserved respect no matter what they were.
Nadir turned back to the table and again took his time reseating himself. The advisors hadn’t moved from their places around the table, so he assumed there was more that they wanted to tell him. As if he had time for this foolishness.
Sighing, he dragged a hand through his hair and yanked it from the tie. The strands pulled too tightly at his scalp when he already had a blistering headache. “What is it?” he spat.
“There’s more, Sultan,” Abdul replied. He pitched his voice low as if what he was about to say would anger Nadir.
It likely would. Everything did these days when there wasn’t an icy woman next to him soothing the anger in his soul.
“Out with it then.”
“The King of Wildewyn has requested another audience. He would like to end the war before it begins.”
“What war?”
“The one we started when the Beastkin attacked us. Wildewyn is standing by their… animals.” Abdul carefully chose the one word that would get under Nadir’s skin. “He wishes to speak with you directly and come to an understanding, apparently. The messenger he sent wasn’t particularly forthcoming with his king’s plans.
He was too tired to deal with this. Nadir squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I am also uninterested in continuing a war that will only hurt both of the kingdoms. Return the messenger to the king and tell him so. We will not be launching any other attacks upon his kingdom unless they attack us first.”
The advisors stilled. One whose name he couldn’t even remember cleared her throat. “Tis a little too late for that, Sultan. The people are calling for blood once again.”
“Our last battle ended with nearly the entire kingdom being burned to the ground. Or do I need to remind them that dragons fought above their heads only a few moons ago?” He lifted his hands and slammed them down on the table. “It is our duty to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”
Abdul shook his head. “The only way to ensure that is to make sure there isn’t another dragon to attack us out there. Until then, there will always be the threat that she will return.”
“Must I remind you that she is my wife?” Nadir’s words cracked through the room and slammed back down on him in an echo he couldn’t get out of his mind.
His wife. Sigrid. The woman who had awoken his soul, and then betrayed it with a simple action that made him want to both wring her neck and drag her back to his side so she wouldn’t be subjected to war again.
He shook his head and continued, hissing the words at his advisors in hopes they would understand he refused to budge on this. “I will not speak of this again. If there is a war to be had, then we will talk of it then. But until the moment Wildewyn is on our doorstep, I will not entertain the idea.”
Abdul leaned back in his chair with a sadistic smile that Nadir knew all too well. It was the expression the old man wore when there was a fight to be had, and one he knew he would win. “That’s just the case, Sultan.”
“What?”
“The Wildewyn King’s messenger also stated there wasn’t any choice in the matter. That the king himself will be coming to Bymere, and that he asked the Red Palace be ready to accept him. Whether we are willing to host him, or not.”
Gods. This was the king he’d met who seemed so cool headed? Nadir had only met Hallmar once, but the man had seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. He’d admired the king’s grasp on politics and how easily he twisted words into something that could be conveyed as kindness but were really an insult.
How could such an intelligent man be so foolish as to think he could waltz into another kingdom without repercussions? Especially a kingdom that desired a war with his.
Nadir leaned his forearms against the table and stared down at the smooth marble. “Why would he do that? Someone, explain.”
Abdul drummed his fingers against the table. “It is our impression that he wants to show Wildewyn is capable of handling a war. Such an act can only be viewed as a threat.”
Anger simmered beneath the surface of his skin like a living creature, writhing and coiling until he could barely think. “That would be a foolish thought, and I don’t think Hallmar is a fool.”
“Why is that?”
Nadir didn’t know if Abdul was asking why he thought Hallmar wasn’t a fool, or why it would be a foolish thought. Either way, the answer was the same.
He looked up from the table, sensing his eyes heat. He knew they had shifted from man to dragon. The yellow gaze sweeping across all his advisors and membrane flicking down over the color to wet the slitted orbs.
“Because we have a dragon. And no one threatens a kingdom with a dragon to protect it.”
3
Sigrid
Wind stroked her scales with the lightest of touches. This was when she was most comfortable, when she was most confident. Nothing but the clouds and the air. No one to distract her or who needed her attention.
Sigrid drifted on a current of air, wings stretched open wide and eyes scanning the valley so far below her. The clouds obscured the visions of emerald green waves every now and then, but that was all right. She enjoyed looking at the puffy white clouds as well. In a way, they were soothing. Although they were sometimes disorienting, it also meant that very few people could find her up here.
Camilla’s legs tightened at the base of her neck. There wasn’t much but spines for her friend to hang onto. Just a few flimsy handholds, and that meant it was a little too easy to fall.
Not that Camilla couldn’t just change into an owl. The time it would take to change would save her from a plummet to her death. But still, it was frightening to not be in control.
Sigrid craned her neck to glance back at her sister. A smile twisted her snake-like lips when she saw Camilla had her arms outstretched and her head tilted back. The wind twisted in Camilla’s braided locks and made her shirt billow out around her like a cape.
It was a beautiful sight. And one she needed before they began to land in Greenmire Castle. This was why she was doing all the work. Every small bit of responsibility was worth it when she could see her sister happy like this.
&
nbsp; They were finally, finally free.
She focused on landing them safely on the cobblestones in the castles center courtyard.
The white marble spires of the castle stretched up around them with delicately carved arches lifting up to mimic the tall peaks. Trees tangled through the carvings, giving the entire castle an otherworldly look. Both castle and nature were linked together in a way that no one else could mimic. It was beautiful, and it made her homesick for a time when Camilla and she would run through the halls of this place as children.
They hadn’t been free then, although it had felt a little bit like they were. The Earthen folk had tolerated the Beastkin children with wry smiles and empty threats when they misbehaved too much. But they hadn’t ever struck the girls as they might have their own children.
Now, Sigrid saw that it was still a life of captivity. They were looked at with a fondness in the same way someone might look at a pet.
The insult still stung. She had seen these people as an extended family who had appreciated her. Who had wanted to take care of her, and make her happy.
But the older she had gotten, the more she realized her childish fantasies were far from the truth. Letting go of that illusion was far more difficult than she could have ever imagined.
Landing hard on the rocks, she huffed out a breath and lowered her head so Camilla could dismount. They’d have to figure out a better way for them to travel together. Sigrid actually liked having someone who wasn’t an animal with her.
It helped ground her.
Shifting where she was, Sigrid reminded herself not to look up at the startled faces of the Earthen folk. At her hip was the golden mask they were used to, the one that so many Beastkin viewed as something terrible and bad.
It was a symbol of her responsibilities. A symbol of who she was, and what she had become. For the Beastkin, she shouldn’t wear it. But for the people here, the ones who had raised her, she would.
Sigrid affixed the golden mask to her face and sighed. It shouldn’t feel like a shield she’d put in place that no one could break through, but it did. Even now, after all she had fought for, and all she had won, she wanted to wear the mask just so that she could hide a little bit longer.