Burn

by Penelope Fletcher

  “Khan needed to show him how to control his gifts before he hurt someone.” Myron made a dismissive wave with his hand. “You and the Princess barely cope with your responsibilities during Aver. It is not uncommon for family to help with any young when matters of state become convoluted.”

  “I am honoured, old one. You see the boy as one of your own–”

  “As a grandson,” Myron interjected, clearly pleased with the turn of affairs.

  Koen had been a bachelor for years, seemingly destined to spurn any female that drew to close.

  Marina had changed that, and while he was hard on her because duty command her be, he held a paternal affection for the feisty female.

  She reminded him of his own long dead treasure.

  Strangely, his Dragon now considered her as more dominant since the odd confrontation in the throne room.

  His mind circled the overt display of aggression then dismissed it.

  “Indeed. But my Treasure is beside herself over this. She feels she neglects our offspring. If you keep taking such liberties it will make her feel worse.” Koen held up a hand. He was not finished, and would be heeded. “We cannot make astute decisions regarding our offspring if you interfere and hide things from us. Your protectiveness in this matter was misjudged.”

  Myron scowled. “Boy needed–”

  “Boy needs Marina and myself, our love and our trust. He needs our guidance, and to see we care. Otherwise we will forever simply be his benefactors, not his parents.” Satisfied his will was known and the matter was closed, Koen turned to Daniil. “You will contact the Eldernmoot and arrange a meeting.”

  Daniil tossed his head, unhappy with the order, but nodded stiffly. “As you wish.”

  “Good.” Koen nabbed another chunk of meat. “I go to find my Treasure.”

  “You spend far too much time in her company,” Myron called to his broad-shouldered back. “The Houses will complain.”

  Attention diverted to where his female had gone, Koen waved over his shoulder. “Let them.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The corridor was well worn, the decorative screens so old they had transparent patches. Marina nodded at the guards dressed in scarlet livery who switched their focus her way.

  Their eyes widened and they snapped to attention.

  One knocked frantically at the wooden door that severed as the entrance to the Ryu apartments.

  The door opened, and the guard whispered to another who peeked, paled then disappeared to announce her arrival.

  Marina patiently waited, eyeing the guards worn uniforms.

  She’d been surprised when she’d been directed to the lower bowls of the Citadel, ignoring the odd looks the servants had given her when asked for directions to Ryu House apartments.

  Clearly, no one expected her to be down here. She’d thought it was only storage down this low.

  The guards waiting with her began to sweat. However uncomfortable they may have looked their chests remained puffed, spines back achingly straight.

  Just watching them made her feel tired.

  “Relax.” She gave them friendly smiles. “I’m not going to take your head off if you slouch.”

  The guards tossed her strange looks and remained at attention.

  Sighing, she eased back on her heel, balanced her upper back on the wall and settled down to wait.

  The otherness kept making itself known, in a much more blatant fashion than before. In the throne room she’d felt a heartbeat from turning around and going for Koen’s throat. Only his rough, uncompromising grip on the back of her neck calmed the feral surge.

  She didn’t know what to make of it. It scared her. Who knew what would’ve happened if Koen hadn’t been there, a steady wall of dominance she didn’t have a to hope of smashing through.

  The most frightening is that the otherness hadn’t been scared, but excited. It purred its approval in her mind while she’d sat hunched and trembling.

  Lust had followed on a wave of adrenaline leaving her hot and squirming.

  None of the males said anything, but their flared nostrils and heated eyes spoke volumes.

  The door yanked open.

  “High Princess, an Honour.” Lord Ryu bent to step out of the entrance and straightened to his lofty height. He was a slender male, with broad shoulders and light blonde, wavy hair styled into the low, blunt-ended Dragon Lord Mohawk. His eyes were kind and his smile soft and warm. His strong features reminded her so much of her mother. “Be welcome.”

  Truly feeling welcome, her bottom lip wobbled as she smiled and followed him into the apartment.

  It was warm and charming.

  There was a fire, but it was more for atmosphere than a need for warmth. The Fire Kingdom was more often that not muggy. The heat from the volcano kept the residents toasty during the winter months.

  There was a large table with benches, a couple of cosy leather seats by the fire, and an open space where a young male she immediately recognised stood quivering in badly hidden excitement.

  Eyes wide in his thin face, his hand nervously gripped the pommel of a ceremonial sword almost as big as him.

  Ryu crossed the room in five giant strides. He gripped the boy by the shoulder. “Princess, you have met my heir?” Pride oozed from his voice and love shone on his weathered face.

  “He sat next to me at the feast after the first quest.” She winked at Viktor. “He helped me make an important decision that night. You can’t know how thrilled I was to learn he was family. It makes me proud.”

  “You make us proud,” Viktor said, voice breathy with nerves, lisp more pronounced. He made a visible effort to slow down. “For all you accomplish.”

  She tugged on his sleeve playfully. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my cousin?”

  “He would never presume or act so bold,” Ryu replied in his blushing offspring’s stead. “The connection is tenuous at best, Princess.”

  “Not to me. You’re family. You’ll never know what it means to me that you exist.” Marina slugged the older male on the shoulder. “So call me Marina, or Rina. I am your niece after all.”

  “Very well. Call me Sevastyan.”

  “Uncle Sevastyan.”

  Lord Ryu hesitated then nodded, a wry curving his lips. “When I received a message bearing your seal, I never imagined it would come to this. You truly seek refuge?”

  “If I’m welcome. It wouldn’t be appropriate to stay with Koen until after Aver, and I refuse to stay in the Zar apartments any longer. A matter of pride.” She drummed her fingers on her thigh, wondering how her request would be taken. “I’d like to take on the Ryu name until I’m formally joined to House Raad.”

  Shocked, Sevastyan’s head jerked as if struck.

  Viktor sucked down a breath. “You would bear our House name?” His pitch climbed a decibel. “During Aver.”

  “Well, I am Almeria Ryu’s daughter. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too much to ask, especially since you barely know me, and all the attention it’ll bring don on your heads. I have to be honest with you, not all the attention is positive.”

  “There is always gossip to contend with,” Sevastyan said dismissively. “It is our way of life.”

  Gathering himself, he pointed to the table and steered his dazed offspring in that direction. He allowed himself to lean heavily, using the youngling for support to overcome his own astonishment.

  As they sat clay pitchers of fireberry wine and platters of grilled flatbread was brought over to them. Dishes of pickled and mashed legumes were brought out for dipping along with spiced oil.

  Marina happily munched on the provisions, ignoring the slightly stale condition of the bread, the tartness of the wine. The platters were chipped and the goblets dented.

  She remembered what Mikhail had said, that House Ryu barely clung to their noble ranking. She had meant what she told him. She didn’t care if they were an Imperial House or not, if they were poor or not. She might even be able to help with the latter
if they’d let her. It was the least she could do since they seemed to be genuinely considering letting her stay.

  She hoped they did.

  It would be embarrassing to return begging to Mikhail after making a big show of rejecting his handouts.

  Marina covertly studied her estranged family.

  The Ryu males looked thinner than they should.

  It worried her, and left her upset her mother hadn’t seen to their needs before she jumped dimensions.

  Truthfully their lack of wealth didn’t matter, yet she could tell they were proud of what they had, and any gold she offered would get a swift dismissal.

  Helping them without offending them would be tricky.

  Daniil would know how to fill their coffers on the sly, she was sure, and she made a mental note to ask yet another favour of Koen’s everlastingly busy Second.

  Lord Ryu openly studied her back before sighing. He set down his goblet. “Marina, may I speak freely?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you using us as part of some elaborate plan that will cost us?”

  She froze. Another piece of flatbread smeared with chutney stopped halfway to her gaping jaw. Swallowing the lump of bread already in her mouth, she licked her lips and dropped the food. She swiped her fingers on a sturdy square of cloth. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because the idea of you giving up the name of an Imperial House to take ours is, forgive me, madness.” Sevastyan decided being blunt was the only way to approach this. “Honoured as I am to have you here, I have no wish to see my House become collateral damage. I do not wish to be used then discarded. Forgotten.” His eyes slid to Viktor and away. “There must be something left behind for my heir.”

  “Oh.”

  Marina rubbed her blunted fingernail over the circular wood grain.

  She knew she asked a lot of him. The risk of taking her on was considerable. Assassins and jealous Lords would turn their attention on his House.

  If she were in his shoes, she’d be close to saying thanks, but no thanks too.

  “And what if I said I came to you because I felt I had no where else to go.” Her voice was small. “Nowhere else I felt safe?”

  “But you are the High Princess,” Viktor blurted. “Anything you want should be yours.”

  Sevastyan placed a silencing hand on his shoulder. One did not openly talk of weakness or lack in the Dragon Lands.

  So naturally Marina bucked that and laid it all bare. You don’t ask you don’t get, she thought mulishly.

  “Everything I possess belongs to Mikhail. Recently I was granted access to my mother’s gold vaults, but....” She rubbed her eyes. “Listen, I have no time to build a palace of my own. I barely have time to sleep at night.” She didn’t mind admitting to these people what a mess she was. Family trusted family. “I know it’s an imposition, but I swear I’ll pay you back any costs incurred and I’ll owe you one.” She sweetened the deal. “I’m a great baker. I’ll make you a killer thank you cake with chocolate frosting.” She paused. “As soon as I discover cocoa pods and figure out how to actually make chocolate.”

  “Why leave Council Mon’s Mikhail’s protection?” asked Sevastyan, politely ignoring the babble. He sounded genuinely concerned for her welfare. “Why bring this trouble about during the tournament?”

  Eyes flashing, Marina dug her nails into her palms as the otherness stirred at the memory of violated territory. “We’ve had a difference of opinion over his behaviour of late.”

  “Ah. That.” Sevastyan shrugged at her raised eyebrow. “Rumours are flying that you and your Sire fought over a beautiful fair-headed woman. We always keep track of you.” Hearing how that sounded aloud, he added, “As all the Houses do,” as an afterthought. His bristled cheeks darkened with a ruddy flush.

  She found his admission they kept track of her movements touching. She didn’t hear maliciousness in his voice, only paternal affection.

  The accidental confession acted as a balm to the part of her hurting over Mikhail.

  Marina rubbed her eyes harder, wondering why they itched and burned so much of late.

  “Her name is Cathryn. She’s my best friend.” She looked at Sevastyan, letting him see how upset and tired she was of the situation. “And now she’s now Mikhail’s lover. We fought over it.” She sighed remembering the angry, resentful words that passed between them, still not quite aware how visceral her reaction had been, how predatory. “I decided I no longer wanted to be around him. Their relationship is too distracting. Right now my losing focus would be deadly.”

  “Agreed. Yet amongst this you trust us, people you barely know, to shield you when you rest? To not take advantage of what it would mean to have you in our home?”

  Put like that he made her sound incredibly naive.

  She nibbled her lip. Her gaze was sincere when it lifted to meet his candid one. “I do.”

  Averting his eyes, Sevastyan collected his thoughts. He ordered heartier food and wine to be brought for their guest. Already, he could see that it would be difficult to deny this female anything she desired. The rumours of her servants’ loyalty held more credence. “You believe strongly in the bond of family.”

  “Yes. Even if I didn’t, you’d be crazy to try and hurt me.” Her mahogany eyes sparkled dark amusement. “No Lord wants Houses Raad and Kol on their ass seeking vengeance.”

  Rubbing his throat, Sevastyan chortled hoarsely. The thought was terrifying. “Bah, none of that matters. You are welcome. I admit before long I believe our modest way of life will chafe and you will leave us.” When she seemed puzzled, he waved a gauntlet. “We have little to offer, but it is yours.”

  “It’s nice down here. Cosy.”

  He snorted. “It’s a prison compared to the Imperial apartments.”

  “Is it secure?”

  “Impenetrable.”

  “I know someone who’ll be putting that claim to the test.” She grinned. “As long as it’s safe I’m happy. I don’t need much but somewhere private to sleep. I have to insist on privacy because, well,” she shrugged, “people keep trying to kill me, you know?”

  “Indeed. Your servants?” Sevastyan’s bushy brows drew together deepening the creases lining his forehead. “I barely have enough room to house my own staff. Where will your princeling sleep? We have but one guest room.”

  “Boy roams at night. He sleeps in whatever nook he finds or with me at the foot of the bed.” She cleared her throat to hide the quaver in her voice. “At least, he used to sleep in with me. Otherwise, he simply blends and adapts. As for servants, the only permanent member of staff I need is Pasha. She refuses her own room to sleep on a pallet beside my bed.” She barked laugh and slapped the table. “This is perfect. I have a valid excuse to send the rest packing. Pytor can deal with them at Zar palace. I told them I didn’t need so many people waiting on me, but more and more turned up every day. It was driving me crazy. I couldn’t pee without someone waiting to wipe my– Uh–”

  Gasping, Viktor burst into guffaws before slapping a hand over his mouth.

  “Not really appropriate table conversation is it?” She winked at him. “If Pasha was here she’d be twisting my ear and saying language Princess.” Laughing with him, she ruffled his cute half grown Mohawk and got back on topic. “I don’t have much stuff. Mikhail can keep the gowns and jewellery. It does mean I’ll need to go to the market before it closes for new tunics and leathers.” She offered Sevastyan an apologetic look. “I hate to ask, but could you spare a small guard? Koen will roast me alive if he finds out I wandered into a populated area alone.”

  “A contingent of men will be made available to you for all your needs during your stay. We have no other Lords sworn to us, but my Dragon Men are well trained.” Sevastyan’s gaze bounced over her head. He motioned sharply to a stocky, swarthy-faced man hovering unobtrusively by the door. “This is Vadik, Captain of House Ryu’s Guard. He and five of his best will be yours to command.”

  Vadik bowed low.
His ebony skin gleamed. “An honour, majesty.”

  “Why are you wearing armour?” Marina asked, fascinated by the intricately decorated yet well worn metal suit.

  It was almost medieval in design, reminding her of the armour ancient samurai wore.

  “Majesty?” Vadik looked questioningly at Ryu who simply nodded, indicating he answer. “We always wear battle armour while on duty.”

  Marina crossed her arms and leaned them on the table. “The Drackai don’t. I began to think the ice breathers are more war hungry.” Her head tilted as her gaze swept up and down.

  Oddly, her mind catalogued places her claws could penetrate and her teeth puncture.

  Which confused the shit out of her because she had neither claws nor fangs.

  “I see you’re just more aware, more disciplined,” she finished quickly as she realised they watched her. She gave the forced smile she was getting good at. “It’s impressive.”

  Vadik blinked. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Most nobles do not think such a thing. They believe we are brutish oafs with no concept of fashion.”

  “Since when does a warrior need to know about fashion?”

  He stared dumbly.

  Eyes widening and throwing his head back, he roared a laugh, his teeth a white slash in his dark face.

  The Dragon Lords jumped in their seats.

  Marina grinned and patted his armoured arm. “I think we’ll get along just fine. Would you and your men meet me by the door in an hour to escort me to the Citadel vault then the market place?”

  “As you command.” With another bow, Vadik left to carry out his orders.

  Sevastyan was bemused. “I’ve never seem my Captain so at ease with a stranger. You surprised him.”

  “Seems I have a habit of doing that. People in this dimension are so judgemental. I could see as he walked over that he decided not to like me.”

  “It is a matter of self preservation. People are either friend or foe. It is in your best interest to view all as an enemy until they prove differently.”

  “Hm.” Marina let that one go. She could see the sense in what he said considering Tzion’s thriving backstabbing society. “The only thing I can think that might take up room is my weapons and armour, but Daniil takes care of that. He knows the best way to polish and mend it, so he keeps hold of it.” He no longer trusted others to watch over them. It was another task he’d taken she’d have to convince him to relinquish. She glanced around. A few cushions and pictures gave the place a homely feel. Cherished weapons were mounted above the fireplace. “This room is large enough to hold meetings ever so often, as long as you don’t mind. I’m sure the Regent will allow us another space for official business if you’re not comfortable with that. I understand you may have your own political aspirations. Koen or Daniil will lend me a room easy.”