by Lola Ford
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Nerie
The following morning Nerie was surprised to find herself alone in her quarters. Karina was missing from her normal fixture, but breakfast had already been served and a dress was laying out ready for Nerie. It was quiet, and the fire that should have been roaring was down to the coals. A quick glance in each of the rooms revealed that Karina was not in the suite.
Nerie slipped the dress on and quickly ate her already cold breakfast. She reached out to Kiriga but was promptly rebuked by the dragoness. She was still waiting for word from Eras or Wyla and could not be distracted from her task.
Nerie’s leg jiggled as she cast her mind around, wondering what was going on. While she was concerned, it was Eras and Wyla. They could handle themselves or reach out if something were wrong. Honestly, Nerie wondered if it was just the fact that an envoy was coming from Lutesia that had them upset and on guard.
Finished with her meal and still no Karina in sight, Nerie felt obligated to carry her dishes to the kitchen. Normally Karina did it right after Nerie was done with her meals. She also thought that maybe she would come across her maid while she was about.
As she stepped into the hallway, she was greeted by the sight of her two guards standing outside her door. When they saw her holding the tray, both reached for it, asking if she wanted them to take care of it for her. A shake of her head and a few quick steps towards the kitchen left them following behind her.
As they left the living quarters, it quickly became apparent where Karina, as well as all the other staff of the palace were. The servant’s quarters were like a seething ant hill with people coming and going so fast that the doors were unable to swing closed in the slightest.
No one gave Nerie a second glance as she made her way into the kitchen with the tray. Inside the kitchen was like the eye of a storm, with the Cook directing the flow of traffic. Fires roared from the ovens and stoves, the pans and dishes bang and clatter together from the sinks. It was even more hectic than the hatching day, so many months before.
Karina had obviously been wrangled into service when she had come to collect Nerie’s breakfast. She was covered in flour and was kneading bread with her back to the door.
Nerie had the tray taken from her hands as she approached the tub that was filled with dishes. She wanted to get out of the small space, so full of people - before she too was drafted into service. As she turned around, she found her eyes locked with Karina who had caught sight of her.
“Princess! This is not a place you should be,” Karina said emphatically, leaving her bread station, and briskly trying to pull Nerie through the door.
“Karina, I’m fine,” Nerie said, shrugging the woman off. “You do know that the day of the hatching I was helping in the kitchens, right?”
Karina seemed to not hear her, instead asking her, “Your highness, why did you bring the tray down here?”
“Because I don’t like being in my room alone, and I figured you were busy. What is going on here anyway?”
“His Majesty has announced publicly or at least to the palace that we will be hosting royal visitors from Lutesia. We are to prepare the palace, making sure everything is resplendent before they arrive. Cook already has menus planned out for the next month and is trying to get everything practiced before they arrive. We’re also to prepare as much in advance as possible.”
Karina brushed herself off, but the flour she was coated in didn’t seem to be moving.
In the duration of the noticeably short conversation, Karina had managed to walk Nerie to Soren’s suite. “I will be preoccupied for most of the week. Vizen will attend to you and the king. Please stay in the King’s suite during the day.”
Nerie was left gaping as Karina made her way back down the hallway as quickly as they’d come.
Turning to face the rooms, Nerie noted that Soren’s office door was tightly closed and Vizen was not standing outside, meaning that he would be in the room with the king.
Frowning, Nerie turned to the garden.
She would join Kiriga and Ilex. Maybe they would hear from one of the dragons patrolling around the city or even Eras or Wyla themselves.
Kiriga was in the same position that Nerie had last seen her, facing due west. She was staring at some point beyond the wall, her eyes alert and focused. She acknowledged her other half with sigh and lowered her still growing head for scratches on her eye ridge, but not looking at the princess.
“Any word yet?” Nerie asked softly, already knowing the answer.
No. Mother is going crazy not hearing from them. But they aren’t hurt or in danger, and until Father says otherwise, she, Riya and Mazen are to continue patrolling around the city.
“Do you want to join them?” Nerie asked, watching Kiriga’s tail twitch in annoyance.
No. Yes. No. She did look at Nerie then, What I want is to know why Father and Wyla aren’t speaking. That’s what is bothering me the most right now.
“I understand. But they know what they’re doing. Soros is listening to Eras. Nothing would hold her back if she thought he was in any sort of danger.”
That’s true. Kiriga let out another great sigh. I don’t like it though.
Nerie climbed up the now familiar set of scales to reach Kiriga’s wide back. Nestling into the small crevice there she closed her own eyes and started to watch through the eyes of the others.
Scratching at a rough scale, eyes closed, Nerie comforted her dragon.
“It’ll all be okay.”
***
Nerie spent the following week laying on Kiriga’s back for hours at a time. They waited together, for any kind of news from either Eras or Wyla. It was mind numbingly silent, and Nerie spent a good portion of the time seeing what Riya, Mazen, and Soros could see. At least they were moving. Their eyes roving the ground far below them.
She could feel each of their anxieties and want to fly to the caravan. It was an underlying fear in all the dragons that the Lutesians had done something to Eras and Wyla to keep them complicit. Why they wouldn’t even speak to Soros or the others.
The morning of the seventh day after the procession of wagons and carriages had started on their journey to Roria from Cian, Eras finally spoke.
We are on our way. These humans will not increase their pace, but I believe we will be there in another three days.
His sudden communication startled Nerie, who’d been sleeping on Kiriga’s back - as well as Soren - who came racing out of his study to put his hand on Ilex. He’d hardly left the small room over the course of the last week.
The cacophony of mental voice’s that flooded through Nerie’s mind made her head spin. Everyone wanted to know why he and Wyla hadn’t spoken. Why they were not flying back to Roria, rather, walking along the road with the royal envoy.
After waiting for the questions to stop, Eras spoke quickly and urgently.
There are eggs. Three of them. We will talk when we are home. In the meantime, make sure the hatching ground is ready.
With that, he was gone again - the wall that cut him and Wyla off from the others firmly back in place.
Nerie could hear Riya, Mazen and Ilex talking. They were both wary and excited.
It was Soros however who caught her attention.
The eldest dragoness was not speaking but was emitting an oily yellow panic. She had immediately turned her flight path toward her mate and daughter, her only thoughts to protect the eggs.
Stop! Eras roared.
The force of it startled Soros enough that it made her momentarily tumble in the sky.
We will meet you in the city, he repeated firmly.
Soros did not understand.
She flew back and forth, moving no closer to the envoy, but not heading back to Roria.
What was going on? Her instinct to take care of eggs, who should never be away from their mother was overwhelming. Her mate knew that. Why would he keep her away?
Finally, she turned back to the city, flying direc
tly to the hatching ground. In the time it had taken her to arrive, Soren had informed Vizen that the grounds were to be heated. While it was winter, no snow had yet fallen.
Nerie hadn’t been back to the hatching ground since she’d been knocked out after Kiriga had chosen her, but as she listened to Soren and Vizen, she gathered that the ground was heated by fires from below.
Soros set herself down in the large sanded area, complaining instantly it was not warm enough. The human screams that followed shortly let Nerie know that something was wrong.
Mother just heated the sand by fire-breathing on it, Kiriga said helpfully, seeing no issue with this.
Take me over there? Nerie asked, gripping the scales before her in anticipation.
With a lithe leap, Kiriga was on the shale roof, walking towards the now visible pillar of flame.
How long until you are capable of producing flame? Nerie asked, unable to look away from the awe-inspiring sight, unafraid of the fire.
Once I am mature, I think, Kiriga said with a shrug that almost dismounted Nerie.
Kiriga paced on the overhanging rooftop, looking for a place to hop down. She might be fireproof, but Nerie was not.
Soros was muttering to herself about the eggs and how they could have ended up in a human’s care and she didn’t understand why she couldn’t go. She piled and replied sand, trying to best figure out how to heat three eggs. She wondered when the last time the eggs had been heated, disturbed by the thought. While dragonlings didn’t need warmth or fire to hatch, it certainly helped. It produced a well-rounded hatchling, in her opinion.
Nerie wasn’t sure what to think, watching Soros.
The dragoness was understandably anxious. There were dragon eggs coming here. It had huge implications, and the chatter of the other dragons in her head was expounding upon those implications.
But why would Lutesia bring them here? Everything that Nerie had learned about the country indicated that they hated dragons.
They were the reason that dragons were nearly extinct.
Even if a few others had survived, the fact that the Lutesian royals had orphan eggs did not bode well with Nerie. Plus, the eggs hadn’t come from Soros and Eras - but they must have come from somewhere?
With no signs of the others stopping their speculative chatter, and Soros constantly shifting and heating the sand, Nerie knew the next three days were going to be the longest of her short life.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Nerie
Nerie wasn’t sure how she managed to survive the wait.
Soros was besides herself, constantly furling and unfurling her wings, pushing sand around the great hatching ground, and growling with smoke issuing from her nostrils whenever someone dared to approach.
The lack of communication from Eras and Wyla continued, but it was clear that they were getting closer as Nerie, through Kiriga could begin to sense their emotions.
They were tense and angry, making all the other dragons worry. Riya wanted to go to her father and sister, but after the direct command that Soros had received, she didn’t dared approach the envoy.
Sitting upon Kiriga’s back and looking out across the city Nerie watched as the procession made its way slowly through the streets.
She could hear, even from the palace, as Wyla and Eras hiss in displeasure, forced into the sky. The roads were simply too narrow for their massive forms, the buildings not designed like the palace to hold their weight.
Their wings beat, brushing the very rooftops of the buildings as they hovered over the train of wagons and carriages. Even within the city, they were still not speaking.
Soros had risen to her hind legs, watching her eldest child and her mate as they followed the humans through the city.
Soren tells me to tell you that you need to go inside and get ready to greet our guests, Kiriga told Nerie, even as she turned away from the city and back to the garden that connected to the king’s suite.
Nerie wanted to continue to watch the procession, as fascinated by Wyla and Eras’s behavior as the glittering flags and tasseled horses. The flags were a brilliant purple with gold trim, and even from this distance Nerie could make out the form of some sort of animal emblazoned upon them.
Sliding from Kiriga’s back, Nerie hadn’t even stepped through the door before Karina - finally discharged from her kitchen duties - had grabbed her by the arm and was helping her strip. An ornate ball gown was laying over the back of a couch with laces loose ready for Nerie to step into.
The fabric was a delicate silk, the exact golden hue of Kiriga’s scales. The back was laced with a silver ribbon and the skirt hung in soft folds. Nerie’s inner child screamed for her to spin around, to look like a flower straight from the royal gardens. However, anxiety from the coming envoy had her digging her nails into her sweaty palm.
They still didn’t even know who had come to visit.
From what little she’d heard from Ilex and the other mature dragons, she didn’t think it was King Oron. But who else had the authority to fly his royal banner? A sibling or child perhaps?
And the eggs.
Why were they bringing three eggs here? How did they even get the eggs? Nerie’s head spun with questions.
Questions that would need to be answered as soon as the great procession arrived at the palace.
Riya’s brassy voice let them know that their guests were minutes away, and Soren, Alaena, Nerie, and even Astra proceeded to the grand courtyard that was the entrance to the palace from the main gates. Once in place they waited. Nerie stood to the right of Soren, Alaena to the left, with Astra to her left.
As the gates were pulled open, Eras settled onto one battlement and Wyla onto the other. Both leaning forward creating a second arch over the gate.
As the massive doors opened, a small party of people mounted on delicate white horses was revealed. More tassels and bells accompanied their tack, and the musical notes rang through the silent air.
In the lead was a young man who looked to be in his early twenties. He had thick curly black hair, and chestnut brown eyes. He had a smile plastered to his face, but it struck Nerie as not quite reaching his eyes.
As he looked between the members of the Therius Royal family, his eyes alighted first on Astra then Nerie. She felt like he was examining each of them thoroughly, and she blushed slightly unused to the attention. While she couldn’t see Astra’s response, she was sure that her half-sister was giving him a good look.
Growls rose from the assembled dragons, but the man seemed not to notice. He was still making his way slowly towards them, having yet to dismount his horse. Seeing that he was in no hurry, Nerie spared a glance behind him where two women and a man accompanied him.
One of the two women looked as if she were the front man’s twin, but with longer hair and a younger, rounder face. Nerie thought she might be closer in age to Aldis than to herself.
The other woman looked, to Nerie’s untrained eye, deadly. Her back was straight and her eyes sharp as she took in every person in the large courtyard. A thin blade hung from her side, and she had one hand resting lightly on the hilt.
The other man was older, maybe his late thirties or early forties, and he looked bored. He caught her eye and winked lazily at her. Nerie felt her face flush slightly and she looked away, back at the leader who was also looking at her.
They had reached the Therius family, and all four dismounted. The dark-haired man stood a half step back while the deadly looking woman stepped forward.
“I present to you, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Brantom,” she bowed in his direction.
“Her Royal Highness, Princess Marza,” this time a nod in the direction of the girl.
“And His Royal Highness, Prince Niro,” she made a final indication of the older man.
Soren stepped forward, and Nerie watched Brantom’s face flicker for an instant. She wasn’t sure what emotion crossed his face, but it was gone faster than it had come. Her brows furrowed slightly, but the smi
le was back and this time it did seem to reach his eyes.
“Welcome to Roria, Prince Brantom, Princess Marza, Prince Niro.”
Soren tilted his head forward in acknowledgment of fellow royalty.
“I am King Soren, this is my wife Queen Alaena, and my daughters Crown Princess Nerie and Princess Astra. I hope your trip was uneventful. Please, accompany us inside. We have a feast prepared in your honor.”
“As eventful as having two dragons escort us,” Prince Brantom said, shrugging idly.
“Yes, about that,” Soren started as they headed inside, “Wyla and Eras have informed us that you travel with three dragon eggs?”
“Did they now? Yes, well, that must be why they refused to leave my caravan.”
Prince Brantom’s response was carefully measured and he seemed not very interested in the fact that he had dragon eggs. His attitude annoyed Soren, who pressed the subject.
“You’ve been traveling with the eggs for nearly a fortnight. We have heated our hatching ground and it is ready for the eggs.”
Prince Brantom stopped, causing the whole party to halt in its procession to the hall. Soren looked at the prince, who shook his head lightly. He ran a hand quickly through his dark curls, before smiling at the king.
“I apologize, it’s been a long trip, and I’m quite tired. Of course, the eggs can go to the hatching ground. In my mind, it had just gone slightly differently. Mainly - I was going to present them to you later this week, at the same time I planned to ask you for Nerie’s hand in marriage.”
Soren took it in stride and nodded sagely while motioning for them to continue into the banquet hall. “Of course, something like that would need to be discussed at great length…”
Nerie wasn’t listening. Her vision spun, and her ears rang over the prince’s confession. A marriage proposal? She was much too young to get married! While she tried forced herself back to the here and now, the dragons roared from outside the hall. Both in anger and worry over Nerie’s sudden anxiety.
Wyla’s shrill voice cut into both Nerie and Soren’s mind, We can’t hear them - any of the Lutesians.