Dragon Flight

by Caitlin Ricci

  “Yes, my lady?” he practically purred in her ear, his approval dripping from every word.

  “Have I forgotten anything?” she asked.

  “Taxes. Angelus and those in power along with them should be taxed at the same rate as the humans,” he told her quickly, despite Amalthea’s chagrined look.

  Isabelle nodded. “Equal taxes.”

  “And execution for Angelus as well, not just humans,” Zorin added.

  Isabelle’s temper flared. “Just because you have wings and I don’t does not mean that we should be any less than equals, Amalthea,” Isabelle told her. “Zorin’s request is a good one. And fair trials for all. And fair punishments as well.”

  “I don’t know what’s happened to you, but I will not let this stand,” Amalthea seethed.

  Isabelle shrugged. “Then find another qualified woman to take your place.”

  “You know that there isn’t one!” the queen screeched.

  Isabelle gave her a level gaze. “Then I suggest you help me with this instead of me forcing these new laws onto your people later. At the next council these new laws will be brought into action. I will be attending with Zorin by my side.”

  “Isabelle?” Zorin said gently.

  “Yes?” she replied, not taking her eyes off Amalthea as the woman struggled to recollect herself.

  “Two things. First, don’t be hard on my mother. Many of the old laws were in place from my grandmother’s rule and were just never changed.”

  Isabelle snorted. “Laziness hardly takes the sting from being unjust.”

  He nodded. “And you’re right. But try not to blame her too much.”

  She tapped her foot impatiently. “And the second?”

  “Your uncle will be at the next council meeting if you proceed like this. He’s human and although he’s never been allowed to attend before—”

  “I’ll have opened the door for him and invited the monster inside,” Isabelle finished for him.

  Zorin nodded. “Are you sure that you still wish to proceed?”

  She looked up at him, feeling vulnerable and needing his comfort. “You’ll be there to protect me?”

  He nodded quickly and pulled her tight against him. “As will Faolan. And the griffons and the dragons and the unicorns and any other creature I can scrounge up. You’ve given them a voice. Good job.”

  She blushed and turned back to Amalthea who was much calmer now and eying them speculatively before saying, “Are you sure that a party is definitely in order? It seems you’ve found your king already.”

  “No,” Isabelle said at the same time Zorin said, “Yes.”

  Amalthea smiled indulgently at them. “Well, you’ll certainly make an interesting queen. And your people, I’m sure, will love you for it.”

  Isabelle blinked at her. “You were furious a moment ago. And now…” her voice trailed off as she stared at the woman.

  “I don’t agree with your ideas,” Amalthea told them. “And I am reluctant to see any of them put into action. But only time will tell if you’ve both made grave mistakes or if there can be good in this world again. People adapt to changes. We long lived creatures forget that. Perhaps this will be beneficial for us all,” Amalthea said as she walked past them. “I don’t forgive you for scheming. But I do commend you on your ideas,” she called back over her shoulder. “Now excuse me, children, I’ve got an engagement party to prepare.”

  Both Isabelle and Zorin stared after her as she swept down the hall, her guards and ladies close on her heels.

  Chapter Five

  The morning of the party involved Isabelle holding her tongue and biting her lips to keep from screeching at Amalthea. She gasped loudly as Meggie tightened the laces on the lacy corset she was being forced into as Amalthea looked on with a disappointed turn to her well-polished lips.

  “Tighter,” she called, despite Isabelle’s groans of displeasure.

  “It can’t,” she gasped as another lace was pulled, “go any tighter.”

  “Of course it can. You just haven’t worn one in years. Now pull it tighter, Meggie. We haven’t got all day to stand here. The first set of gentlemen should be arriving within the hour,” Amalthea scolded her.

  Meggie nodded, following Amalthea’s directions, and pulled tighter despite Isabelle’s dirty looks and sharp gasps.

  “You’ll have to lose some weight,” Amalthea told her, tapping the soft curves of her stomach with the tip of a perfectly manicured finger.

  Isabelle was outraged. “I just gave birth!”

  “And her curves add appeal,” Zorin spoke up from the doorway as his warm gaze traveled over her. She knew the thin underdress hid little of her body and it only made her agitation grow to see him looking her over like he couldn’t decide if he was bored or if he wanted to take her to bed. As usual he hadn’t bothered to knock, but Isabelle was not in the mood to have him see her so vulnerable as his mother criticized her. She shot him a nasty glare he quickly laughed off as he flopped into a nearby chair. He stretched out his long legs and crossed his ankles. His eyebrows rose as he waited for the women to continue.

  “You won’t leave?” Isabelle asked him.

  He shook his head no with a grin. “This is the best entertainment I’ve had all morning. I could hear the two of you bickering from three rooms over.” His gaze flicked to his frowning mother, but quickly dismissed her and her disapproval.

  Isabelle’s gaze moved to him. “You’ll watch over me today?” she asked expectantly.

  “Yes,” he promised.

  ““Of the men coming, are there any that you know who wouldn’t mind that I can’t give them my heart right now?” she asked him, though the answer hardly mattered. Not many men would be alright with their wife loving another, even if her love was doomed.

  Zorin shook his head no.

  Her heart sank a little. “And how many of them would be fine knowing that no matter who they were, my brother comes first?” she pressed him.

  He sighed. “You know the answer to that already. None of them would accept such a marriage.”

  She met his gaze briefly before looking away. She didn’t even care anymore that Meggie was forcing a much too lavish dress over her head.

  “What can you offer me, Zorin?” she asked him seriously.

  He sighed. “Not much,” his voice was strong and honest, but it was obvious that he was tired of it all. “Give them all a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”

  She pressed her lips together irritably and stared him down. “But what can you offer me in a marriage?”

  “If none of the others catches your eye even remotely?” he asked.

  She nodded and hissed as Meggie pulled her hair into a tight bun.

  * * * *

  He leaned back, considering all of the reasons she would be better off without him. But under his mother’s watchful eye he considered what it could be like to have a family. Or as close to one that he had ever had. So, knowing that it was selfish and not caring anyway, he told her exactly what he knew she wanted to know. “I’m the most powerful being in existence. You can’t get much more protected than that for both you and Caden.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “And Sebastian, too?”

  Zorin blinked at her. Protect another man’s son? He wasn’t a saint by any means, but seeing the pleading hope in her eyes made something inside him crumble. He nodded slowly. “Sebastian, too. But Faolan is old enough to protect him all by himself. Don’t ask me to take care of that boy, too. It would be too much.”

  Her smile broadened. “Of course.” She shook off the women still bustling around her. “Show me these men you think would be better for me than you,” she told him, extending her small hand to him.

  He looked at her hand and then to her eyes before slowly rising to his feet and tucking her hand into the crook of his much larger arm. “Do you really want me?” he asked her.

  “As a protector that won’t ask mo
re of me than I can give, yes,” she told him honestly.

  He nodded, expecting as much. “But as a man?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Thadius asked me the same thing about Faolan.”

  “Your answer to that old Draconian doesn’t matter to me. What I want to know is if you can ever see me as more than just protection for those you care about? Will I ever be considered among those you love?” he asked her seriously as he pulled her to a stop just inside the last alcove before they stepped out into the bright sunlight and the already loud commotion just beyond.

  * * * *

  She eyed him warily. “Do you want to be?”

  He shrugged though she could tell her answer meant much more to him than he wanted her to believe.

  She laid a hand gently on the hard strength of his forearm. When he still refused to relax, she went against everything she knew that she should be doing and leaned into him, pressing her much smaller frame against the hard planes of his chest. He was warm and smelled of horses and the salt air of the sea that tickled her nose.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered to her even as his arms came around her and pulled her tightly against him.

  “I don’t deny an attraction to you, Zorin,” she whispered back as she turned slowly in his arms, finding herself unwillingly moving closer to him. His hand slipped down the small of her back as he pressed her against him.

  “But?” his voice was rough, sending shivers down her spine.

  Blushing, she stepped away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know that we could ever be a real family. But I would like a chance to have that. After so many years of caring for Caden, I never thought I’d see a time where he could take care of himself. He’s a child again and I’m not quite sure what to do with him now. I need a friend more than I need a husband, but Amalthea won’t stop pushing.” She sighed wearily. “Think you could be okay with that? Even for a little while?”

  He considered her for a long moment. “Sounds like a fairly big compromise for me to make. But I will under a few conditions.”

  Her eyebrows quirked at him. “What conditions?”

  “First off, you give every man out there a chance. A real chance. Second, if none of them happen to interest you, then you give us a chance. An honest chance. And I’ll have mistresses,” he added the last part with a smug smile.

  She laughed at him. “Mistresses?”

  His smile broadened. “You’re still in love with Faolan?” he waited for her to nod. “And I’m still a man.”

  She rolled her eyes at him.

  “When you can give your heart to me and me alone the mistresses will disappear,” he said.

  She smiled coyly at him. “Fine, then I have one condition for you. If I want to invite a man to my bed I will.”

  He blinked at her. “The queen cannot—”

  She wagged her finger at him. “You’ll be the king consort, I’ll be the queen, you’ll have mistresses—discreetly of course—and if I want to have Faolan in my bed every so often in secret you’ll say nothing about it.”

  “He’s moved on,” he reminded her cruelly.

  “And the sooner I realize that the sooner you’ll have to say goodbye to your mistresses for good. Do we have a deal?” she asked him.

  He nodded. “I suppose we do.”

  She smiled and retook his arm. “Then come, let’s enjoy my engagement party.”

  He shared her smile and led her out into the sunlight.

  Within a half hour Isabelle knew this party was going to go nowhere. There were doves and swans and bright ribbons of color wrapped around the marble columns that lined the private gardens. But the men that were in attendance were frankly less than she could have hoped for. Amalthea kept shooting her disparaging looks as she lounged in a large chaise with a glass of wine dangling from her fingers as she listened to a duke she couldn’t remember the name of complain about a second cousin.

  She glanced to where Zorin was standing off the side, most of his body hidden in shadows. He met her eyes briefly, laughter lighting his features momentarily before he glanced away. A man came up to him and began a soft conversation, but Zorin quickly brushed him off with a harsh look and a quick word. Considerably paler, the man stepped away from him.

  With a sigh, she caught Zorin’s gaze again and curled her finger toward him. With a soft grin, he approached her.

  “Dacian Macayle,” Zorin greeted the man by her side.

  Ah, so that was his name, Isabelle thought to herself as he quickly made his excuses and scrambled away.

  With a barely contained giggle, she motioned for Zorin to sit down beside her. With an elegant grace she could only hope to mimic, he relaxed into a chair beside her. “Anyone catch your eye?”

  She rolled her eyes and extended her wine glass toward the mingling crowd. “I’ve met most of these men before. They are no more attractive now than they were when I was a princess in Nuer. Nothing has changed except now I just have more curves than I did all those years ago. Not that any of them have noticed.”

  His full lips turned into a brief teasing smile. “Oh, I think plenty of them noticed.”

  She blushed and turned away from him. “Any suggestions?” she asked him as she surveyed the gathered crowd.

  “Specifics?” he asked.

  She pursed her lips. “Under thirty, no children, no widowers.”

  He laughed softly. “Minimum age?”

  “How young is the youngest man here today?” she asked him, dreading the answer.

  He grinned at her. “Fifteen.”

  She gaped at him. “Your mother wouldn’t!”

  He laughed. “You don’t think so? She wanted you to have lots of choices. So, let’s assume that you want someone over twenty?” She nodded. “Then that leaves you exactly three men.”

  She frowned and sighed, but signaled him to continue on anyway with a wave of her hand.

  “Auguste Milans,” Zorin pointed, “is twenty-seven and is the nephew of some duke or something from somewhere.”

  She giggled and sipped her wine. “You don’t know? Don’t you know everyone here?”

  He joined her in a quick laugh. “I don’t take much notice of anyone whose intelligence is less than my horse’s.”

  She grinned broadly and slapped his thigh. “Don’t be mean.”

  “Can’t help it. These people infuriate me.”

  “Why?”

  He leaned forward so that he could whisper in her ear. His breath was warm against her neck as it tickled the soft hairs at her nape. She found herself moving toward him, turning her head so that more of her shapely neck was exposed to him. Part of her wanted him to kiss the pale skin there, but another part of her dreaded the possibility.

  “Because none of these men care about anything more than the crown. None of them will ever love you or even see you as more than a wife on their arms who looks pretty in their jewels as she turns an eye to his misdeeds.”

  “And how do you see me?” she asked him as he leaned back.

  He gave her a slight smile and turned away. “Any man worth your hand would see you as a woman to be cherished and protected while still respecting that you are certainly able to take care of yourself, as you have well shown these past few months.”

  She leaned in closer to him, her heart speeding up. “And are you a man worth my hand, Zorin?” she asked him.

  He shrugged her question off, but not before she saw the light blush dance across his tanned cheeks.

  “I think you are,” she told him quickly before he could move further away. “And I think you’re a better man than any of these pompous arrogant wannabe kings around us.” She said it loudly enough that many heads turned and many scowls were sent her way. Amalthea seemed to storm away with a huff, causing Isabelle to giggle and roll into Zorin’s side.

  A man slowly got up the courage to approach them. He was well dressed like the others with nothing
but a slightly different hair color to set him apart from the throng of men eager to be the next Feeorin king. For Isabelle he held no interest. He wasn’t unattractive by any means, but like every other man there he was just so good looking and so well dressed and just so everything that as a whole Isabelle was done with the entire lot of them. They were boring and unoriginal. Not at all like—she quickly stamped out that idea. He who she refused to think about was probably perfectly happy up in his mountain home well away from her. Even this very minute he could be sharing his bed with that impossibly beautiful mate of his.

  It was more than enough to turn her mood instantly sour.

  “Have I given each of them enough of a chance yet?” she grumbled to Zorin.

  He chuckled and shook his head no. She scowled at him until he spoke. “You haven’t even danced yet. Dance and try the cream cake and we shall see if you’re through.”

  She rolled her eyes. “How many dances?”

  “Three.”

  “One,” she countered.

  He chuckled. “Two.”

  She shook her head no. “One. I will dance with the poor soul brave enough to approach us when no one else will and if he doesn’t step on me I will consider another dance.”

  He grinned wickedly at her. “Fine. You will dance with that boy and then you will dance with me. Then we will eat cake and you’ll announce your engagement to whatever poor sap you’ve decided to marry and then we can be done with this ridiculous charade. Deal?”

  “Deal.” She blew him a kiss before she flounced up to the man who looked extremely startled that she would even notice him.

  “Care for a dance?” she asked him. He gaped at her so she took that to be an affirmative and stepped into his arms. He was rigid against her and although she barely knew more dances than any other woman her age would be expected to know, she had the urge to lead him around when it was obvious he was far too unsure of himself to be an adequate dance partner. She gave him the courtesy of staying with him for a song though before stepping back and mumbling a quick word of thanks.

  He let out a breath of air and stumbled away from her as if relieved to no longer be the center of all that envious male attention. Now that she had decided to dance and the ice was broken as it were, men around her seemed to crowd for her attention, all of them eager for her approval and hopefully her hand in marriage. She frowned and hugged her arms over her chest as the men seemed unsure of themselves as they attempted to sort out who would approach her for a dance first. She knew many of these men from her time in Nuer and they had barely given her a cursory glance there. But now that she was going to be queen they were all salivating at the chance to be king alongside her.