Burn

by Penelope Fletcher

  “The King ... Lord Kol.” Viktor stuttered their names with a touch of reverence. “They will come here?”

  The Ryu males exchanged a panicked look.

  “Probably. They spend time relaxing with me when I’m not training or strategising.” Marina looked at Sevastyan speculatively. “Actually, it would be great to get a new perspective. I rely a lot on Daniil when it comes to ill winds blowing my way from the other Houses. Your input would be wonderful. If you’re willing to confer with us, Uncle.”

  Hot under the collar, overwhelmed, Sevastyan cleared his throat. “We don not have much to offer such great Lords.”

  “No need to be modest.” She peered around unconcernedly. “Pasha will take care of that stuff when she finds her way down. I won’t put undue stress on your staff. They have enough to do looking after your family and men. If my presence gets too much, or if Koen and Daniil get fussy don’t put up with their domineering bullshit. Just let me know.” She wagged a finger at them. “I’ll deal with them.”

  Sevastyan had to laugh at the idea of this female ordering about the feared Dragon King.

  Apparently whispers they bonded before the Hunt were not exaggerated.

  Viktor had elatedly recounted his time during the feast, avowing they were genuinely affectionate, but his offspring was naïve in such matters. He had little contact with females due to his speech impediments.

  He’d been wrong to discount his the observations of his offspring.

  Sevastyan motioned to his staff. They loitered nervously by the door with towering platters of food. “You truly wish to stay?”

  “As long as you don’t mind the parade of people coming and going, I’d love to stay and get to know you both.” Marina leaned back as a servant placed a clean plate and cutlery in front of her. “Thanks.”

  The maid arranging the last of the meal startled. Eyes wide, she dipped into a curtsy before bolting back into the kitchens.

  Oblivious to the wondering looks the Lords were giving her, Marina twirled her wooden, unvarnished chopsticks as she sniffed at the food.

  Sevastyan’s face heated as he thought of the fine silverware and china the upper Houses enjoyed. “I am sorry we have so little to offer you. We weren’t expecting guests. We eat humbly unless there is a special occasion.”

  Marina barely heard him. She was famished since she passed up breakfast that morning. She dove into the steaming bowls of plain rice and fish.

  Stuffing a forkful in her mouth, she froze. “Who’s the cook?”

  Sevastyan eyed her worriedly.

  Berthilda had been with him for years. She was getting on in age, and her meals weren’t as inventive as some, but her punctuality and ability to make provisions stretch made her a great asset.

  The thought of having to replace her for a wasteful, pompous chef to please his royal guest made his stomach churn.

  “Something displeases you?”

  “It’s delicious.” Marina groaned, filing her mouth and licked her lips. “I haven’t had anything this good since getting here. I mean, the foods nice, but they keep giving me nothing but red meat.” She made a happy noise and licked her lips. “Funny, because I never used to eat seafood before.”

  “The fishermen bring in fresh catches daily, but it all goes to the Dragon Lords, especially during Aver. Our beasts love it.”

  She blinked, digesting this. “Oh.” Taking a mental step back, she realised the otherness was rolling about in her mind, colouring her perception of the meal. “Well, this is perfect. The fish is succulent and flaky, the rice is soft and tastes like coconuts.” She sighed. Pleasure washed over her unease. Her stomach rumbled, her mouth watered, and the food was glorious. “Koen’s going to love this.” She wolfed down the rest of her plate, pausing to gulp water when the steaming rice burned the roof of her mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I’m having seconds.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Marina stared agog at the mountains of gold hers to spend. Grabbing a leather pouch, she filled it until the seams bulged then gave each of her guard a solid gold sovereign.

  They balked, repeatedly tried to give her the money back, but she insisted they get one gold coin a week as payment for their extra duties in guarding her.

  Vadik explained it was more than their monthly soldier wages, but she waved him away after giving him his own coins.

  She knew and they knew protecting her was one of the most dangerous jobs in the Kingdom, even if it came with unmentionable honour attached.

  Satisfied with her new situation, Marina strolled through the market place the Tzioni people called a souk.

  Relaxing, she let her attention drift. She took her time to soak in the energetic, friendly atmosphere. She stopped at countless stalls to sift through luxurious bolts of fabric, perfumes, oils, and staggeringly cast array of grooming products.

  Having simple tastes, she purchased bricks of seaweed soap, a crystal vile of conditioning body oil that smelt like peppermint and vanilla, a wide toothed comb made of wild Dragon bone, and a beautiful braided hair clip for when her hair grew out.

  She stopped at the tanner and ordered two pairs of new boots, as well as purchased a ready-made woven belt with leather sheathes at each hip for daggers.

  She took one look at the finely woven tunics at the next stall and bought all of the merchant’s stock in her size. She cleaned out the leathers thinking it was better to stockpile a style and fit she liked in case she was too busy to shop for a while.

  The grey-haired man pressed ankle-length, tulip-shaped skirt into her hands, insisting it was suitable for fighting yet enhanced her feminine curves. He grinned, not a tooth in his head, mentioning the last, making Marina blush furiously, and laugh when her shy reaction encouraged him to beg for a kiss.

  The guard from House Ryu were alert yet accommodating. They didn’t grumble when she had them carrying armloads of goods in a train behind her, and she thought that was sweet of them.

  A stocky male with hazel eyes, and a quick, crooked smile called Dmitri, reminded her in a monotonous voice she’d paid them well.

  He softened the comment with a sly wink.

  Catching the shameless remark, the others laughed their agreement.

  Vadik refused to carry anything, arguing his duty to guard her body. It was a charge he took seriously.

  Gawkers that blocked their path were dispatched with a feral growl eerily wolf like. The large man prowled ahead, gaze constantly roaming, seeking a threat.

  A steely look from his stormy eyes, a colour she’d never seen on such a dark-skinned man before, had grown men running.

  When she cautiously mentioned how beautiful she thought his eyes were, his dour expression cracked into a grin that stretched ear to ear.

  Marina had long ceased chaffing under the watchful eyes of guards. They were there to keep her safe.

  While she could take care of herself in a pinch, it took a load of her mind relaxing and enjoying herself while in public.

  Yes, it was unnerving to sometimes look and see a group of people staring at her when they figured out who she was. Faces were often dumbstruck with awe, or in many cases, lust, if the group was young males who didn’t know better than to covet the female of the bone-crunching, overprotective Dragon King, but she learned to simply smile, wave and move on.

  The people of Tzion were of course curious about her, and there was no crime in that.

  Some even sidled closer to offer her congratulations on her victory against the ice wolves, or compliment her ‘magnificent beauty’, which she found amusing. Though she had her own quirky thing going on, she couldn’t hold a candle to Anastasia’s icy beauty or Galina’s fiery gorgeousness.

  Though the guards swelled to surround her and ordered the onlookers back, she found it sweet, and rather amazing the people cared enough to have an opinion one way or the other.

  While she allowed her guards to protect her as they saw fit, she did intervene in Vadik’s safekeeping when he almost took a
young man’s head off when he pulled a flower from behind his back.

  Vadik wrongly assumed the youth carried a weapon.

  Blocking his attack, viper-quick with her thrusting arm to knock him back, Marina smoothly accepted the pretty bloom and sent the brave, if somewhat shaken, youngster off with a kiss to his cheek.

  Most of the afternoon passed uneventfully.

  Then Marina spotted a group of Citadel soldiers harassing a group of beggars. She wandered closer, particularly worried at the rough treatment a guard dolled out to a scraggly child whose clothes were more rags than coverings.

  The solider grabbed the urchin by the scruff of the neck as the others scattered like roaches.

  The waif squirmed trying to break free. “I did not steal it.” The high voice identified the dirt-encrusted urchin as a girl. She kicked the soldier’s shin. “Let go.”

  “Give me that.” The solider grabbed for the bundle the child clutched to her flat chest. “You are lucky I do not haul you in for thievery.”

  “They gave it to me. Alms included food this morning.”

  “Liar.” The soldier snagged the edge of the napkin and yanked. A bread roll, a bruised firefruit and a slice of meat tumbled to the floor. “None of the Houses give away fresh food.”

  Wailing in distress, the girl dropped to her knees to gather up the humble meal.

  Seeing the emblem on the napkin, Marina knew exactly where the food had come from. Before she could arbitrate, a husky voice demanded, “What happens here?”

  The hairs on the back of Marina’s neck rose. The otherness gripped her tightly as it crouched, urging caution. Shivering, her skin goose pimpled, and for once she listened to the inner presence without hesitation.

  After all, the otherness was just a manifestation of her more primal instincts.

  She retreated to watch from the shelter of a jewellers stall. Humming in irritation, she impatiently waved a vendor aside when he tried draping strings of pearls along her neck.

  The belligerent soldier spared a heated glance up, clearly pissed at the interference of his assigned duties.

  He sneered threateningly until he spotted the broad shouldered Dragon Lord addressing him. His surly expression was replaced with thinly veiled intolerance.

  “Catching a thief, my Lord.” He emphasised the last two words with more than a touch of sarcasm. “Be on your way.”

  Marina blinked, stunned, and more intrigued.

  She’d never seen such disrespect to a member of the gentry, especially not from one of the Red Citadel guards, from who she’d seen only blind loyalty and consummate deference to the Dragon Lords.

  “Is that what she supposedly stole?” The Dragon Lord pointed to the now dirt speckled food. The fringe of his straight, spiky hair fell into his eyes, and the ice-white tail of his mohawk fell to middle back in a lustrous stroke. “Because she did not.”

  “Look, this is none of your affair, snake tail.”

  Tensing, Vadik hissed. The Dragon Men of House Ryu muttered angrily between themselves, and Marina guessed a severe insult had been dealt.

  The Dragon Lord tilted his chin and narrowed his eyes to foreboding slits of luminous silver. “I make it mine.”

  Disgruntled, the soldier looked about but found no support from his fellow guardsmen who watched warily from the sidelines, mingling with the inquisitive crowd. “Move along. I deal with this scum daily.”

  “No.” The Dragon Lord crossed his arms and his armour reflected the dying sunlight brilliantly. It was tarnished, dented, but still awesome in its glory. “I want to know what you will do with the youngling. How you will repay her for the lost meal?”

  The soldier’s eyes bugged. “Repay her?”

  He shifted aggressively and the Dragon Lord surged forward to get in his face. The two men squared off nose to nose. Dangerous tension crackled between them.

  The urchin squirmed until she slumped and glared at them with equal fury, not caring that one championed her. She was out a day’s worth of wholesome food that would have let her live to see another week.

  Curious as to what would happen, Marina stilled Vadik with a lifted finger as he opened his mouth to thwart the confrontation.

  She shook her head and hooked her thumb over her shoulder, ordering him back.

  Vadik and his warriors knew the male, but she too recognised the voice. Marina didn’t want her memory tainted with new information and strained her mind for the elusive memory to solve the mystery.

  The otherness remained wary.

  Where did she know his voice? The male himself was not familiar to her, but she knew him. Perhaps she’d seen him at the feast, or one of the functions she’d attended? Her body was on alert, and she was not ignorant of the fact her instincts readied her to flee or fight. Was he a threat to her in some way? How did she know him?

  She cautiously stepped closer; overriding the otherness’ snarled anger at the decision. “May I be of some help?”

  Both heads snapped in her direction. The Dragon Lord blinked rapidly obviously recognising her.

  The guard rolled his eyes. “Carry on, my Lady.”

  Disregarding the order, she knelt and looked the urchin in the eye. “Where did you get this food?”

  “It was given to me.” The girl’s chin jutted mulishly and her eyes dared anyone to call her a liar. “The servants toss scraps every morning not eaten at the Lord’s fine table.” She waved the cloth the food had been held in, embroidered with House Zar’s symbol. “The last few weeks they have been throwing us fresh meat and bread every morning.” Her face creased in satisfaction. “I put on some weight.” She scowled at the guard who still had hold of her. She shook a grubby fist at him. “I am not a liar, and not a thief.”

  “Okay,” Marina said with grave respect. She stood and looked the guard in the eye. “Let her go please.”

  “On whose authority?”

  “Mine. I wouldn’t question it.” She sighed when the man swelled with indignation. “Not because I’m looking to cause trouble, or undermine you, but because certain people who care about me don’t take offense to me lightly.” Her eyes fell on the skinny child gazing at her lost meal forlornly. “You will give this girl a coin to buy the food you ruined.”

  The guard turned crimson. “Damn you interfering nobles to hell.” His eye twitched crazily. “You come here from your bountiful lands during Aver and act so high and mighty thinking you must know better than us, the ones who actually care about the citizens who must survive when you are finished eating and drinking everything in sight. I will not pay this creature. She will likely slit your throat to steal your purse the next time you venture near because you are fooled into thinking she is tame.”

  Marina’s mouth fell open.

  “I keep this city safe from vagabonds,” he raged. “Not you. I take my orders from the Imperial Captain. Not some scruffy looking ice bitch.”

  “Ho!” This time Vadik was heard. He pushed Marina behind him and shoved his brawny body in the guard’s personal space, towering over him. “Address the High Princess as Your Majesty, and curb your filthy tongue, or I shall cut it out.”

  “Majesty?” At the stone like expressions of her protectors, the guard paled. “High Princess,” he whispered, eyes darting side-to-side. He shuffled back dragging the child he seemed to forget he was holding with him. “The King will throttle me.”

  Vadik snorted. “Burn you alive is far more likely”

  Following the conversation with half an ear, Marina peered at her clothes. The simple outfit was rumpled and stained from everyday living. She brushed crumbs off her chest and picked at something dried on her leathers. Scruffy? Marina knew she didn’t compare to the Court women who dressed in ostentatious robes and glistened with fist-sized jewels. She didn’t even try to outshine them regardless if she had the means to or not. But scruffy?

  “Enough.” She valued what the gruff guard said, his caustic delivery notwithstanding. “Give the girl her coin and move on. We’
ll forget this ever happened.”

  The Citadel soldier fumbled for the worn leather pouch at his side. He grabbed a coin and without looking chucked it at the girl and bolted.

  Cursing, Vadik shifted to go after him.

  “No.” Marina clamped a hand down on his forearm. “Let him go.”

  “He was disrespectful. He did not even excuse himself.”

  “Let it go.” She patted his arm. “You’ll find I’m not one to stand on ceremony. He did what I asked, so we’ll leave him in peace. It’s not a crime to have an opinion.”

  The Dragon Lord who’d originally intervened on the urchin’s behalf silently begun to blend into the shadows.

  The urchin wasn’t far behind.

  “Not you two.” Marina didn’t bother turning around, merely nailed them to the spot with a voice unexpectedly profound.

  Vadik remained stubbornly resistant to letting the Citadel guard go with impunity until she lifted a brow and finalized her will with a hard look unnervingly piercing.

  Something else stared from her eyes and grabbed the man by the proverbial throat.

  Eyes dropping, he stepped to the side, feeling a little like he’d been blinded-sided by a typhoon.

  Turning to the child, fully expecting the Dragon Lord to wait, Marina studied her with a critical eye. “Will that be enough to replace what was lost?”

  “Yes.” The girl clutched the coin to her sunken belly. She stared angrily. “I did not need help. I care for me.”