“Ah, blazes!” The curse was full of pain.
I don’t know why I decided to stop: I should have known better. I was risking my life by staying out in the open.
But I did stop, and I looked and saw the injured man rolling on the ground beside a podium strategically placed in the middle of the courtyard. He clutched his stomach like he’d been hit in the vulnerable area.
Then without warning, a fresh bolt shot down from the sky. The flash of light caught the corner of my eye, and I saw its impending trajectory like I was seeing the future.
Without thinking, I yelled out, “Roll to your left!”
But he did not move. I closed my eyes.
Please gods, I said a silent prayer on the poor man’s behalf, make it painless.
19
Despite the chaos and sounds of battle around me, I was able to hear the moment the fallen man heeded my warning. His body shifted against the pavement, rolling to the side. I opened my eyes in time to see the bolt strike the empty spot where he had been.
I released a shaky breath, but my relief faded when I saw the winged attacker soar around in a loop, escaping the notice of the fighting draekon, who were too busy pushing back the majority of the attackers.
He was going to return.
I ran over and struggled to grab the man under the arms. He yanked away from my touch, but he cried out at the movement straining his abdomen.
“Don’t.” I leaned over to let him see my face. My pulse spiked when I noted his black eyes—he was a draekon. “Don’t fight me. I’m here to help. Can you stand?”
The male was dazed, disoriented by his pain. He squeezed his eyes and when he reopened them, I saw lucidity. Though, he seemed stunned by my commanding tone. “I think so.”
“Good.” I repositioned my hands beneath his arms. I surveyed our surroundings. No guards remained on the ground to help. “There’s a doorway ten feet behind us.” It was our closest option.
Sweat beaded over his brow. “All right.”
Using all of my strength, I tried to help him stand. He was massive. I didn’t think I’d succeed, but he managed to get his feet under him to push himself up the rest of the way.
We hobbled the short distance and collapsed against the door. I reached out and tried to turn the handle.
Panic escalated. “It’s locked.” I glanced up and saw the attacks all around us. I’d lost sight of the one who’d originally hurt the draekon, but I knew he’d be back to finish the job.
“Move.” The draekon pushed me back, so he had view of the handle. With one well-placed strike, he knocked the handle clean off the door. I wondered at the point of locking doors at all.
“Come on.” I pushed the door in before placing my hands around the draekon’s waist, careful to avoid his stomach.
We took two steps inside before he crashed to the floor. I tried to help him down, moving items out of the way so he could lie flat, but he was too heavy. Once he started to fall, there was no stopping him. I saw him wince as he landed on a hand shovel. He tossed the item aside, mumbling curses for the storage closet and all of its contents.
Unease grew as I noticed he was right. We were in a closet. My eyes landed on his wound, and my healer instincts kicked in. I needed to clean it out before infection set in.
Kneeling beside his head, I swallowed and said, “Hey.” A strand of my hair fell into his eyes. He swatted it away and blinked up at me, seeming to remember I was there. His dark eyes, framed by long, thick lashes, distracted me.
I cleared my throat. “We need to clean your wound.”
The draekon shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
I had no knowledge of draekon anatomy and healing to know if that was true.
“I need to see the extent of the injury.” I looked at his waist, knowing where most draekon kept their weapons. I was glad to see he had one. “May I borrow your dagger?”
He rested his head against the floor and twitched his fingers, giving me permission.
Carefully, I reached over and freed the short dagger from its sheath. The movement jarred a little, and the draekon hissed.
“Sorry,” I whispered. I pulled back with the dagger and lightly touched the material around his abdomen, preparing to cut the fabric. It wasn’t like the leathers I’d seen agents and guards wear, but I knew the male had some military background. Hearing his voice made me realize he was the one I heard shouting orders when the attack began. I guessed he’d been standing on the podium, making himself an easy enough target.
“I’m going to cut away some of the material.” I licked my lips, suddenly nervous to be so close to a draekon in such a small space. “Try not to move.”
A jerk of his head was his only response.
Inhaling through my nose, I used my free hand to pick up the edge of his shirt. The fabric stuck to the bloody skin, and he growled as I pulled it free.
“Sorry,” I breathed again.
Using the sharp end of the dagger, I cut the fabric down the middle. I tried my best to leave the wound untouched, but I knew the movement was painful. I got near the collar of the tunic. Nervous, I shot him a worried glance.
His face was pale, and his lips were bloody from biting them to contain his cries. He met my gaze. “Go on.”
I swallowed and returned to my task. With a quick slice, the shirt fell into two. I moved the fabric to the side, leaving his entire chest and abdomen exposed.
My eyes zeroed in on the injury. His skin was charred. From his navel to his left hip, the skin was a glossy red with black edges. My stomach rolled. “I thought fire didn’t burn draekon.” The words passed my lips without thought. I recalled Agent Min wrestling the burning goblin to the ground. He left the scuffle without even a tinge of pink skin.
The draekon lifted his neck to look. He released a groan and flopped back onto the ground. “We can if it’s elven fire.”
“Elven fire?”
First goblins and now elves? What else didn’t I know about? Pixies?
I shook my head, forcing myself to focus.
“Yes, and those bastards know how to hit us where it hurts,” he answered me, exhaling. He tried to sit up.
I placed my hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down. My move was only effective due to his weakened state. “You need to stay still. I will find cleaning supplies and bandages for your wound.” I stood up, already preparing myself to brave the battle on the other side of the door. The sounds had grown quieter, but I continued to hear sporadic shouts and roars as the draekon engaged the attackers.
“I will be fine. My body will heal on its own.”
I looked at his stomach and frowned. “There are pieces of rocks and dirt in your skin,” I informed him. “You will get an infection.”
“Draekon don’t get infections.”
Self-healing and no infections? No wonder draekon lived so long.
“You shouldn’t go out there,” the draekon said, drawing my attention back to his face. He was still pale, but he seemed less affected by his pain. “It isn’t safe.”
“I can run,” I told him. “I’m fast. No one will see me.” My healer instincts were engaged, and my priority was to see the male treated.
The draekon eyed me up and down, taking me in for the first time. “You won’t be fast enough.” The words were said with truth. I had no choice but to believe him, but I couldn’t sit there and do nothing.
“At least let me remove the rocks.” I pointed to the contaminated wound. “Otherwise, your skin will heal around it, and you will have ugly bumps the rest of your life.” I tried to play on what I knew of draekon vanity.
My words made him chuckle, but the amusement quickly faded as it caused him to move his stomach. “Fine,” he grunted. “Do what you will.”
Grateful to be of use, I scanned the closet and found a half-filled watering bucket. After re-tying my hair into a knot, I removed the lid and dipped my hands into the water, praying it was clean. Even if it wasn’t, it was my best optio
n. Scrubbing my skin, I tried to remove any trace of dirt or grime. He said he was immune to infection, but I wasn’t willing to risk it. Mistress Molly had drilled in the importance of good hygienic practices.
I settled back on the ground, leaning over his stomach. “This might hurt,” I told him, “but I’ll try to be quick.”
He jerked his head, closing his eyes tight.
Forcing my hands to steady, I reached out and gently pulled a dark speck from the center of the wound.
“Ah!” He bent forward, huffing in pain.
“Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry.” He flopped back down but lifted his arms and covered his face. It made his stomach stretch, flattening out the wound. “Go on.”
I spared a thought to admire his bravery. Focusing, I made quick work of pulling out the largest pebbles and dirt. I chewed my lip every time I heard him hiss in pain but I kept going. The sooner the skin was clear of foreign objects, the sooner his pain would end.
I removed all visible items and ripped the inside layer of my skirt, using it to lightly dab the freshly oozing wound.
Finished, I sighed and leaned back. Already, I could see the draekon’s magical healing taking effect. The amount of blackened skin seemed less than before.
I rotated my neck, leaning back when I saw the draekon staring at me. His eyes were black as onyx, and I knew they should be intimidating. But his expression was contemplative… and soft.
“Who are you?”
“A kitchen servant,” I answered thickly. How long had he been staring at me like that?
“No. I mean, what is your name?”
“Amelissa.”
“Amelissa,” he repeated slowly as if committing it to memory. “Thank you for your help.”
“Of-of course.” I inched away from his massive body. Sitting on my bottom, I brought my legs close to my torso and wrapped my arms around them.
The draekon breathed deeply and focused his attention on the ceiling. I glanced up to see what he was looking at when he said, “The attack is over.”
“How do you know?”
“I can hear our soldiers return,” he replied, moving his gaze back to me. “Open the door and summon the closest guards. They can help take me to the castle healer.”
I scrambled to my feet. Trusting the draekon’s word, I flung open the door and stepped into the deceptively bright sun. The courtyard was full of guards searching the grounds while others resumed their posts. Some looked more worn down than the others, but each one appeared to be unharmed. Not like the male behind me.
“Excuse me!” I rushed forward, waving towards a passing guard. “Can you help me?”
The draekon turned to me, noting my torn skirt and exposed leg before speaking, “I’m a little busy, miss.”
“I have an injured draekon,” I continued as he stepped away. “Over there.” My words brought his attention back. He turned on his booted heels and followed me as I jogged to the closet.
The wounded draekon was sitting up when we arrived.
“Your Highness!” The guard stumbled into the closet. He covered it with a haphazard bow. Righting himself, he shouted over his shoulder, “I need some help over here!”
I stood to the side, not completely understanding what was happening. It was only when the draekon called out, “Prince Finn is injured,” that my mind caught up with the scene before me.
My eyes swung to the injured male, noting for the first time that his clothes were extravagant, much finer than anything I’d ever seen. Even in Draek where the servant’s clothes were made of nice material, the draekon’s stood out with its quality. Gold cuffs circled the wrists of his cut shirt, and his weapon’s belt was made of dark, brown linen. The king’s crest adorned its clasp.
The injured draekon—the one I’d been bossing around and touching all over his abdomen—he was one of the princes. He was one of the most powerful and influential draekon in the castle.
And I’d just told him my name.
20
I spun around and left, wanting to get away before anyone asked me any questions. The shrill sirens stopped blaring. The quiet further unsettled me as I rushed through the courtyard. I stepped into the castle’s north wing, leaning against the inner wall. I placed a hand over my racing heart.
The prince. Did I really just help the draekon prince?
Of all the draekon to run into, it had to be one of the most powerful. So much for my mission to remain unnoticed.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. I hadn’t thought twice about leaving the gardens to search for my sister, just like I didn’t hesitate when I saw the injured male.
The fact he was the prince didn’t matter. Even if I’d known, I still would have tried to help him. I could only pray he didn’t try and search me out. He knew my name, but surely princes had more important things to do than try and find servants.
Right?
“Lissa?” My sister’s voice made my eyelids fly open. I pushed off the wall.
Lorie rushed towards me. She’d approached from the interior of the castle.
I wrapped my arms around her as she collided into me. “You’re okay,” I breathed. A large coil of anxiety relaxed. “Thank the gods.”
Her embrace tightened. “They are saying elves attacked the castle. I didn’t even know elves existed.”
“Neither did I.”
Lorie pulled back, eyeing me for any injuries. I had to suppress my smile.
Since when did my younger sister act protective of me?
“What happened to your skirt?”
I looked down and saw the tear I made had grown larger. “I needed fabric to treat an injured draekon.” I didn’t reveal the draekon’s identity. The less who knew, the better.
“Of course, you did,” Lorie replied with a sigh. My lips twitched. She was behaving like me.
“Return to your quarters.” A royal guard stomped into the foyer and bellowed the command. “By order of the royal family, everyone is to return to their quarters immediately.”
I hadn’t noticed the crowd of humans and draekon around us. But once the guard gave the order, everyone scattered. Some draekon and their human companions moved to the main staircases to relocate to the higher floors while others rushed to the passageways that connected the separate wings of the castle. All of the servants moved to the inner stairwells, branching off to our respective areas.
Lorie and I walked to the kitchens. We were greeted by a hysteric staff. Cooks and servers flitted about the room, running into each other and the edges of counters. They were grabbing whatever food they could find. Then they ran off to their quarters.
Did they think we were still in danger?
The attackers had retreated: I’d seen it with my own eyes. The skies were empty of their threat. I thought about saying as much but realized it would do no good. The men and women were already worked into a frenzy. They wouldn’t hear a word I said.
“Come on.” I pulled Lorie towards the long hallway connecting the kitchen to our living quarters. Using my shoulders, I shoved our way through the congested hall. The royal family portrait stole my attention. My gaze landed on the twin boys. I wondered which was Prince Finn.
Stop it.
I flung open our apartment’s door and stumbled inside. Lorie fell in after me.
“Lissa! Lorie! Thank the gods.” Bridget ran to us from across the room. Her hair was a mess as if she’d been running her fingers through it. “There was an attack.”
“We know.” I rolled out my shoulders. I could already feel nasty bruises forming. I’d been shoved more than I thought. “We were working when it happened.”
Bridget gasped.
“Did you see the rebels?” A man’s voice drew our attention. Nolan sat at the small, four-person dining table. He must have been waiting with Bridget until our return.
“Rebels?” Lorie’s eyes widened. “What makes you think they were rebels?” She sounded uneasy, like his response mattered a great
deal.
“Who else would dare attack the king’s castle?” Nolan returned, raising his eyebrows.
I rubbed my eyes.
So, the human rebellion was real. Goblins existed, as did elves. I shook my head and wished, in vain, that the world was less complicated, or just that I had been prepared for it.
“I don’t think it was rebels,” I managed to say, lowering my hands. “I heard a draekon say the attackers were elves.”
Bridget gasped, again.
Nolan’s eyes darkened. “Are you certain?”
“I am only telling you what I heard,” I told him. “I didn’t even know elves were real.”
Nolan scoffed. “Of course, they are real. You served one on your first day here.”
Understanding dawned. That explained the blonde male’s pointed ears.
A horrible thought forced itself into my mind.
“Nolan.” I had trouble swallowing.
He cocked his head to the side. “Yes?”
It was tough to form my question. My brain knew what it wanted to say, but my lips refused to bring the words to fruition. “Elves are blond,” I managed to exhale. I hoped he understood the implication.
He did. “Oh, gods, Lissa.” Nolan stood from his chair. “No. Of course not.”
Lorie and Bridget exchanged confused glances.
“What’s going on?”
Nolan turned to answer Lorie. “Your sister thinks you both are elves.” He made it sound like the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. My cheeks flushed.
“What?” Lorie turned to me. “Lissy?”
“I didn’t know.” I tried to justify myself. “We’ve never seen any blond people before… except for that elven male on my first day.” It seemed logical to me, but Nolan found it anything but.
“Their continent has humans, too,” Nolan explained. “We’ve all guessed that is where your ancestors came from.”
“We?”
He waved a hand. “The other staff. Don’t look so shocked. You two were new and different. People can’t help but gossip about such things.”
Chosen Page 15