Shaking with silent laughter, Daniil shook his head.
Pasha was on hand with a damp cloth.
Marina wiped her hands with vigour then tossed it at Nikolai’s face, wrapping it around his head with a wet splat.
He dragged it off pouting.
The guard outside the chamber hailed a newcomer.
After a moment’s contemplation Marina brightened. Her eyes fixed on the growing shadow cast over the entrance screen. She made a neck slicing motion. “Avoid talk of me being in danger please.”
Mikhail snorted. His tail flicked disapprovingly. ‘Overprotective.’
“Motherly,” Pasha murmured in rare contrariness.
Koen thought her warm and soft tone pleasant. It was the way things should be with females concerning younglings. He decided Mikhail mirrored his thoughts, as the male did not protest the small defiance.
“He tried to slit his own throat when I was poisoned. I have nightmares about it.” Marina’s look warned them all. “No one says anything.”
The bell chimed and the screen slid back.
Boy hastily stepped into the room. He headed straight for Marina. He didn’t touch her but hovered close, gaze flashing over her injuries. At the end of his inspection he seemed satisfied she’d been cared for.
As he’d studied her, Marina had made her own inspection. She brought her fingers to touch his swelling eye.
He shied away.
Clasping his pointed chin, not yet shadowed with the whiskers of a grown man, she tugged him down to get a better look. “What happened?”
“A fight of honour.” His young face was gravely serious. Boy was nearly as grim as Koen. “Scum from House Vor claimed you cheated.”
Mikhail snapped his jaws. ‘Hypocritical bastards.’
Boy nodded sombrely.
Marina tapped his cheek to reclaim his attention. “So you started a fight?”
He hesitated, pondering the consequences of telling the truth.
Koen rubbed a velvety skein of Marina’s hair. He inhaled its coconut scent. Distracted though he appeared, he was keenly attuned to the exchange. “Do not lie to your mother.”
“Yes,” Boy replied fatalistically. “He shoved me but I struck first.”
Marina released him to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. Boy flinched. She ignored the twitch and stroked his head. “This challenger from House Vor looks worse than you? You won?”
Wary, he nodded.
Her predatory smile had Koen’s Dragon purring.
“Good,” she said bluntly.
He smiled into her hair.
Mikhail boomed laughter while Daniil and Nikolai quietly snickered. Piqued, Pasha cleared her throat nosily.
“What?” Marina demanded. “Everybody keeps telling me it is survival of the fittest. This lordling needed to be made an example of.”
Disappointed, Pasha’s face drooped. “Violence begets violence.”
“I hear you. What have we done to these people to deserve their scorn? Why does my family have to suffer and defend me from who should be my people?” She received no answer. “How long must I continue to turn the other cheek? When will it end, Pasha? So I refused to be scared off. Instead of accepting I’m here to stay these cowards have become more desperate. They act as if I’m trying to steal their worldly goods. All I want is to mate Koen, dissolve the slave trade, and redistribute a portion of their wealth to the poor.” She looked at them beseechingly in turn. “Am I that bad?”
“I believe the problem is they see the plan too clearly,” Daniil muttered.
“What happens when someone I love turns up dead? Look at what happened to Tatiana.” Her face drew into a fierce scowl at the thought of Boy being made to suffer because of her aspirations. “These people have to be taught there are consequences – painful, distressing, end of your entire male family line consequences for messing with my family. I want each noble to understand touching a hair upon anyone from Houses Zar, Raad or Kol in anything but an honourable challenge will result in getting their spine ripped out their ass.”
The silence was cutting.
Daniil’s lips twisted. “A disturbing visual.”
Pasha’s eyes welled. Marina had no idea how the gentle woman survived Tzion’s harsh environment before coming to work for her. “This will not end well, Princess.”
“I won’t go looking for trouble. I swear it. But my compassion will not extend to bullies and murderers. I will no show no mercy if they come looking to hurt me and mine.”
“But you speak of Lord Kol dragging your hidden foes into the open for Lord Raad to destroy.”
“They started it.” Marina brushed her fingers through Boy’s curls. Her determination to protect him was plain. “I mean to finish it.”
Koen was proud. He bared his teeth at his Treasure’s fierce declaration. “No mercy,” he rumbled and he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss.
‘No mercy,’ Mikhail agreed.
Nikolai snorted. “Like I gave any in the first place.”
Daniil’s head dropped. When it lifted his expression was resigned. “No mercy.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Marina sidled into the grand hall. Nervous excitement jittered over her skin. Eyes were on her as she crossed the stone floor with the remaining First Chosen flanking her.
The other Chosen that entered Aver for lesser Dragon Lords were done. Some had won their Dragon while others failed. Marina felt bad for the women who hadn’t succeeded. Bitter sobs of anguish echoed though the halls, and the Dragon Lords denied their mates appeared heartbroken by their failures. Of course they could mate outside of Aver, but the Houses wanted the prestige that came with an Aver victor, and pressured their heirs to hold out until the female prevailed.
Marina briefly wondered what she would sound like if she failed during Aver then cast the thought aside. She wasn’t going to fail. Failure meant losing Koen, and while the new people in her life thrilled her, he was at the centre of it.
Admittedly, her drive to be a Tzion Queen would be nonexistent if he wasn’t her reward.
Dressed in a gown of deep purple with silver stitching, Marina itched the back of her neck and tried not to touch her face.
Pasha, the sneaky witch, had made up her face as she took a nap before the feast. After bathing, Marina had fallen onto the soft mattress thinking about the next quest. Within a heartbeat she’d been snoring. She woke with little time to get dressed, barely enough to wrap her in the shakus of fabric constituting her dress robes, green embroidery on a shimmering black backdrop.
Only when Pasha was forced to let her check her hairstyle did Marina discover her ghostlike complexion, red lips and kohl black eyes.
She’d been furious.
On the long walk to the celebration Marina argued with her handmaiden. “You are so lucky I have to go to this. You better find a damn good place to hide. When it’s over I’m coming after you.”
Knowing Marina’s threats were full of hot air, Pasha merely sniffed then hotfooted it out of sight.
Chest puffed with pride after winning the honour of escorting her to the victory feast, Boy fought what she suspected was a smile at the exchange.
He’d yet to grin without restraint, but Marina knew once his icy wall cracked he’d smile all the time. She couldn’t wait for the day he trusted her enough to reveal the full enormity of his emotions.
Leaving her with the other First Chosen, Boy ghosted through the imposing double doors.
Marina smiled ruefully, aching inside watching him go. She kissed and hugged him whenever she could, always had a hand on him to forge a connection of trust. It wasn’t something she’d been advised to do, just something that felt natural to her. He was her son. She wanted to feel close to him. He was already nearly full grown so she only had a few years of coddling left.
Boy never reached out to her. It pained her how he held himself apart, as if he wasn’t worthy. He was always careful not to invade her personal space, rarely initiat
ed the physical contact, and though he was able to accept her overtures of comfort, he struggled to talk about his feelings.
She knew he and Koen already had their own male understanding, and he got on famously with Mikhail, but she wanted something special with him too.
Marina’s eyes scanned the throne room until she realised everybody stared at her with a mixture of intrigue and horror. Her attention returned to what she was doing. Had she ripped her dress to expose herself? Was the back of her skirt tucked into her knickers? What? Marina glanced over her shoulder. Had she accidently mowed someone down? That kept happening. As she walked the stone hallways, she’d hear a squeal, and look down to find some disdainful Lord’s neck under her boot heel. She grinned inwardly. Okay, so she’d tripped a few then walked all over them. Sometimes stubborn people needed to be publically humiliated to be brought down a peg or two.
Frowning, Marina planted her hands on her hips and returned the glare of the Lords eyeballing her. What the hell was their problem? Did they want to fight? Oh, she’d fight. Almeria taught her never to back down. She was a scrapper through and through.
Marina started to see if she could roll up her trailing sleeves, and checked to make sure she wasn’t wearing earrings. She didn’t remember putting any on, but that wouldn’t have stopped Pasha. The older woman stuck, hung, and tied dangly crap to her all the time without her noticing. Marina had to respect the ingenuity. Pasha made an art of covertly decorating her. She never felt a thing, and often undressed in the evening finding she wore bangles, necklaces and other jewels she knew for a fact she hadn’t put on knowing they’d clang and tinkle annoyingly. Her lack of awareness of how the woman was managing it would have disturbed her if she didn’t suspect Boy helped the wily crone.
A loud throat clearing brought her back to her senses.
Daniil subtly motioned to something she’d missed as her mind wandered.
Marina’s gaze followed his manic pointing and dropped. The women either side of her practically kissed the floor in a bow.
Surprised, she glanced up and found Koen slouched in his throne hiding a smile behind his palm.
As their gazes met his harsh, shadowed face lightened. His raven wing eyebrow, the one with the scythe-shaped scar bisecting it, the one she constructed whole fantasies around, cocked. The curve of his sensual lips turned indulgent.
Just what was so amusing?
Eyes narrowing, Marina bobbed her head. All the bowing and scraping got on her nerves. It was a wonder anybody got anything done when every other person of rank had you bent over double or undergoing some tiresome ceremonial dance of respect.
She understood the value behind offering her elders and betters respect, but the Dragon Courts took it too far.
She’d grow a hunchback at this rate.
When she was Empress it was top of the list of things that needed addressing. Alongside slavery, treatment of servants and the introduction of a pension scheme for loyalists like Pasha who often found themselves destitute after a transgression no more erroneous than speaking their minds.
There were many good works she could do for the citizens. It wasn’t been an unwelcome realisation.
Coming from a world where freedom was fought for everyday, she could nurture a bohemian revolution.
Back in the human dimension there were always efforts made to address injustice, but the power structure was simply too corrupt for lasting change. Here in Tzion power and submission was granted to the strongest.
If the strongest was a tight-fisted tyrant the land suffered. If the strongest was a benevolent soul with an iron clad will and determined to see change for the better the land prospered.
Marina knew Koen possessed negligible political sway as King in the everyday running of the Kingdom and Realm. That responsibility fell to the Queens. He would hold less as Emperor. However, the mighty presence of his Dragon alone would dissuade civil war, melding the military and civilian forces together, giving them a unified, and therefore powerful voice the nobles must respect and heed.
Koen’s influence aside, her control over the Ice Realm as Queen could go a long way to improving the lives of many. As she was a High Princess, the rare offspring of a Phoenix, surely she would retain influence on the Drackai nobility too?
As Emperor and Empress she and her Dragon Mate would help the people move into an age of prosperity and freedom. That was worth giving up some of the liberty she’d enjoyed.
Besides, she would have her Koen Raad.
Yet another throat clearing brought her back into the moment at hand.
It was Koen making the noise this time. He was momentarily puzzled at the disgruntled expression stamped on Marina’s face.
What mercenary thoughts occupy her mind, he wondered?
That he never knew what she was thinking is one of the aspects of the female that fascinated him. There was no artifice in her manner. She was raw emotion barely contained in a curvaceous figure. Her unpredictability thrilled him as much as the lushness of her lips and the vibrancy of her eyes.
Sighing, wishing he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, he inclined his head and waved the cluster of women away.
As Marina twisted to leave her expression creased in panic. Her skirts tangled around her ankles at the abruptness of her movement.
Enchanted she made no attempt to conceal her alarm, Koen crooked a finger, giving her the excuse to linger and correct her garment.
Eyeing the arrogant gesture, Marina froze. It was a good thing too. The reprieve was long enough to gather her wits and correct her clothing.
Gaze flitting every which way as her hands fiddled, she got her legs free and her skirts falling neatly. Proud of her accomplishment, she beamed at no one in particular, but seemed to remember he’d called her to him and puckered her lips.
Hesitant, wary, she finally threw her head back and marched to the dais. Her dress robes billowed around her. If her character had been any less bold the silken fabric would have swallowed her. Instead she was a vision he felt honoured to behold, an avenging goddess demanding supplication.
Her eyes flicked over his head to rest on the Dragon Council.
They reclined on stone plinths behind him. As always present to remind the Drackai nobility and the Wyvrae gentry of the Council’s power and majesty.
Marina looked decidedly unimpressed then settled her gaze on him questioningly. The defiance behind her facade of serenity made Koen hot under the collar.
He admired her strength and desired her passionate approach to life. Crisp and light, her scent teased his senses. Ensorcelled by its unassuming headiness, he leaned forward to better imprint it. Its memory would keep him sane at night until she won Aver and could soothe his beast herself.
Flushing, she went to rub her cheek. Her hand hovered by her jaw and she wiggled her elegant fingers. A line appeared between her brows. “Pasha did it.” Her tone was all accusation.
“You look beautiful.” His head tilted. “But I prefer your natural face.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Amused at her irritation, Koen eased back and drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. “Sit beside me during the feast.”
“Am I allowed?’ She eyed him. “Or will it send the Regent to horrified spasms that will result in me getting an hour long lecture from Daniil on humility and propriety while Mikhail looks on sniggering.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “He thinks trying to teach me how to be a Lady is a waste of time. I tend to agree with him, but keep that between us.”
Deciding not to comment on her continued difficulties with her Sire, Koen debated how to answer her question.
After what happened with Katya, Marina could be sensitive about the strictures of decorum during the tournament festivities.
“Yes.”
“Yes, I’ll be in trouble?” she asked. “Or did you mean yes, it’s allowed?”
Laughter rumbled in Koen’s chest. “Yes, it is allowed.”
“I’m g
etting the sense it’s not that simple.”
He frowned even as his mouth curved. He should have known she would see past the oblique answer. “What do you say?”
Her striking eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Nothing with you people in this dimension is straightforward. You say, ‘Sit next to me at supper,’ and it seems harmless when in reality it’s the equivalent of squatting on the table spitting in the food.”
“Hm. I must sit with either Anastasia or Galina during the subsequent feasts if you grace me with your presence tonight.”
“The forth? Or is there no feast before the Hunt?”
“Both Queens sit either side of me.”
First Chosen were not supposed to be shown preference by the Dragon King, at least not in the open. She could handle the other two sitting next to Koen for the length of a meal. Once Aver was over it was as close as either of them would get for the rest of their lives.
“Alright,” she said fighting a smile. “I’ll see you later.”
Pleased, Koen winked.
Marina turned just as her smile broke free. She didn’t get to see Koen as much as she desired, but since their misunderstanding had been cleared up, she harboured no doubts he loved her and wanted them together.
Winning Aver was coming to mean more than just being with him, but it was definitely the reason why she woke every morning. The reason she had the strength to deal with the ceremony and danger surrounding the event.
Bustling up to Daniil, he offered her his arm. She took it gladly and snuck a look over her shoulder.
Koen’s hungry eyes remained locked with hers until Regent Myron approached and caught his attention.
“You are making important people jealous. Each time you and Koen flaunt your relationship you make an enemy.” Daniil squeezed her hand. “Remember what we spoke of? We need no reason for more assassins to target you.”
“Anastasia just wants to be Empress. She isn’t interested in Koen. Galina doesn’t care for men at all.”
Marina had seen women sneaking to and from the Chosen’s room in the dead of night. From the sounds that drifted from behind the screens they weren’t in there braiding hair.
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