“Faolan?” she asked, stepping up to his side.
“Yes?” he asked.
“May I go outside today?” she asked, peering up at him through her dark lashes and making sure to pout her bottom lip just enough to get him to give in.
He frowned at her. “Outside? Where?”
“Somewhere green? Please? It’s so desolate here. I haven’t seen grass in all these months,” she practically begged him.
He quickly shook his head no. “It’s dangerous, Isabelle.”
“Oh please, Faolan? Nothing will happen to me. You’ll see,” she assured him with a beaming smile.
He sighed helplessly. “Oh alright.”
She laughed happily and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Faolan!”
He hugged her briefly back. “But just for a little while when I’m on patrol. Deal?”
“Absolutely,” she cried as she placed a quick peck on his cheek.
He scowled at her, but the heat did not reach his eyes and after a moment, a soft smile crossed his lips. “Okay, okay! Eat up, we’ll leave in a half hour and you had better be ready.”
She picked up a muffin from a nearby stack and quickly shoveled it into her mouth.
* * * *
A few hours later Faolan landed gracefully in a bright green field of wildflowers. He could still see the mountains from where he would leave Isabelle for the short time he would be away from her, but her vulnerability made cold fear race over his scales. Still, he had agreed to this. Not that he could have said no to her wide, pleading eyes and pouting lower lip. He sent a final glare into her grinning face as she stepped away from him, but quickly softened it with a rub of his chin against her long hair.
“Thank you, Faolan. This spot is perfect,” she told him as she patted his cheek. She briefly kissed his nose before stepping away from him.
He gave her a quick nod before taking a few steps back and launching himself into the sky.
* * * *
She watched him for several long moments until he became too small to see and then knelt in the lush grass to begin picking some of the plentiful wildflowers.
After an hour of lazily picking flowers and laying in the grass looking up at the clouds she had fallen asleep with her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. The ground trembled beneath her, waking her up. She sat up excitedly, expecting to see Faolan, but as she heard the sound of hoof beats, she turned around, seeing a much different sight before her.
“Isabelle? Is that you?” Andrew asked, pulling back abruptly on his stallion’s reins. The horse skidded to a harsh stop and tossed his head angrily.
She paled and began to back away from him. “Andrew.”
“What are you doing here?”
She glared at him, her fists clenching at her sides. “None of your business.”
“Is that dragon nearby?” he asked, quickly searching the sky above them as if he expected a large black shape to drop down upon him at any moment.
Isabelle wished he would. “What if he is?” she stubbornly replied.
“Then he’ll die, just like you,” he seethed, bringing his attention back to her.
“Is that you, boy? Oh, what have we here? A country girl, perhaps?” his uncle said, looking her over appreciatively.
“Uncle—” Andrew began, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile.
Isabelle glared at the much larger man, her chin jutting out defiantly. “Hello, you disgusting pig.”
He paled instantly. “You! How are you still alive?” He dismounted, coming toward her with slow, measured steps.
Andrew also dismounted, rolling his eyes as he took his uncle’s reins. Every few seconds he looked up at the sky, keeping watch for the dragon.
“Uncle, she has a dragon nearby,” Andrew told him.
His uncle seemed unconcerned. “I’m sure his head will look quite nice hanging on my wall.”
Forgetting that she wanted to hide her pregnancy from the men, Isabelle rose to her full height to face them with her hands clenched at her sides. “You will not harm him.”
“You’re pregnant!” Andrew gasped, pointing wildly at her noticeable stomach.
Isabelle paled, her arms coming protectively around her middle. “I—”
His uncle sneered at her, a large mocking grin creasing his features. “So this is why you ran away. What poor slob did you have to beg to bed you? Yer a through and through whore, just like yer mother was.”
“Shut up! You will regret those words against my mother, you wretched beast!” Her face flushed in anger.
“You stupid little girl, how dare you speak to me so!” he yelled back. He advanced on her then, his long broadsword drawn and pointed directly at her trembling form.
Only feet from her now, Isabelle’s mind finally came up with a way to defend herself from the half-drunk man. She mentally called for Faolan. Her fear must have been sent to him faster than she thought for only a second later a great black form came hurtling towards the humans far below on the ground.
“Uncle! Let’s kill her and go before the dragon comes!” Andrew shouted, his hand going to the hilt of his sword as he started to walk closer.
The man laughed straight at the swooping dragon. “Nonsense, my boy! Yer not a man until you’ve slain a beast like him. My, my, he is a handsome prize. Get that brat of a sister of yer’s. We’ll bring him down together.”
Andrew twirled his sword in one hand and sprinted the few short strides to where Isabelle stood frozen. Before she could think to act, he had her turned and pinned against him, his blade pressed firmly against the swell of her stomach.
“Careful, you wouldn’t want my wrist to slip now, would you?” he mocked in her ear as she struggled in his grasp. Tears formed in her eyes as realization sank in.
“Now call the creature to you, I want no tricks from him when I take his heart,” her uncle called from a few yards ahead of her.
“It doesn’t work that way!” she sobbed loudly.
But Faolan still landed with a loud thud before them. She screamed for him to run away in her mind, but still he stood there, his eyes fixed on the man holding his wife.. His nostrils flared and his head was bent low, his neck arched in anger.
“Now tell me, brat, what is this creature to you? For this be no simple dumb beast before us,” her uncle hissed.
“You will know him only as your death, you disgusting filth!”
“Oh see now, that’s not a nice thing to say,” Andrew said mockingly. The hand holding her traveled around to stroke the side of her breast, causing her to sob loudly. “Not a nice thing to say at all.”
Their uncle raised his sword to the enraged dragon. “Who are you to this wench?”
If Faolan had been capable of it, Isabelle was sure he would be shooting fire from his nostrils right about now. But instead he could only glare helplessly as the man continued to hold his wife.
Isabelle caught Faolan’s gaze for a moment as tears started to stain her cheeks. “Faolan,” she whispered, “forgive me.”
Andrew looked confused for a moment as she backed up against him just enough to bring her elbow smashing back into his ribs. As he fell back, howling in pain, Isabelle wrenched herself away from him and fell onto the soft grass below. She saw Andrew jump to his feet and try to catch a horse that had been too slow to dart off with the other when the dragon arrived.
* * * *
With his wife safely out of Andrew’s clutches, Faolan charged, spinning in mid-air so that his tail caught Andrew squarely in the chest, sending him flying backwards into the nearest oak tree. Upon impact, his head split with a deafening crack that Faolan found himself enjoying the sound of.
“You’ll pay for this!” was shouted at him, sounding distant as he looked towards the sound of the voice. The older man ran after a frightened horse. Faolan was sure the horse would bolt and the man would become easy prey for him but then the animal tripped on its reins, s
lowing it down enough for the man to catch it. He managed to get on, just barely, before Faolan could go after him. Annoyed at himself for waiting, Faolan frowned as the man and horse galloped away. No matter, he’d taken care of the one he saw as being the greatest threat to Isabelle and he was proud of that.
Faolan turned, the self-satisfied grin dying on his scaled lips as he turned to look for Isabelle. He was terrified and sickened to find her lying on the ground, a pool of red blood forming under her stomach.
Chapter Eleven
It had taken only a day for Isabelle’s side to heal and thankfully Kylin had told her she hadn’t nicked anything, but he did have a strong warning about staying away from sharp objects for the remainder of her pregnancy. Faolan was convinced it was his fault and when he wasn’t being overprotective, he was so absorbed in his self-pity that it was hard to bear. Isabelle had retreated to the quiet of her brother’s company for the afternoon.
“Kylin says that you’re fully healed now, Caden,” Isabelle said softly.
He smiled brightly. “I think he’s right. I’ve never felt so healthy before.”
She returned his smile. “What do you want when this is all done? Andrew is dead now but his uncle still remains and I have no desire to go back and see him.”
“I’d like to go somewhere just the two of us. Somewhere far away from these mountains and Nuer and everything else we know. Like an adventure,” he said excitedly.
“And what shall we do there?” she asked.
He seemed to consider this a moment. “Well you’ll relax and we’ll have servants and you’ll wear fancy dresses and be a princess like you’re supposed to be.”
She gave him a wry smile. That was certainly nothing like what she would have thought he’d want for their lives together. “And what will you do?”
“I’d like to learn,” he answered promptly.
Her chin tilted to the side as she thought this over. “Learn what though?”
“Everything I suppose. I was always too sick to learn any of it so I need to get started if I’m to be a proper prince,” he told her with a shrug of his narrow shoulders.
“What about Feeorin since it’s the closest city? Would you like to live there?” she asked.
“From what Kylin has told me it seems like a nice place. But really anywhere seems nice compared to these depressing mountains,” he said quickly.
She scowled at him. “Alright, you go back to Kylin’s rooms and get some rest. I’m going to go talk to Thadius for a little bit.” He nodded quickly and left without questioning her, giving her a quick hug and a peck on her cheek before leaving. As soon as she was sure that he had returned to his rooms, she sought out Thadius in his library.
“Thadius?” she asked, poking her head into the library.
“Yes?” he said, meeting her eyes briefly before turning back to the large book laying across his lap.
Isabelle clenched her fists nervously before entering and stopping in front of him. After a moment of silence in which Thadius ignored her, Isabelle coughed delicately. He met her gaze, a frown marring his already sour face.
“Caden is well enough now to leave the mountains. Kylin has said so,” she said quickly. She stubbornly raised her chin, expecting him to argue with her, but all he did was nod once before turning back to the book.
“Yes, he has told me of this news as well,” he replied without emotion.
She frowned at him. “I will hold you to your promise now then.”
He sighed and turned the page. “And which promise would that be?”
She shifted irritably. “You said he could leave once he was well.”
He gave a low grunt which might have been agreement. “And you’re prepared to let him live somewhere else without you?”
She nodded quickly even though she knew he wouldn’t see it. “Yes. He does not need to be here.”
“And where will you send him?” he asked without interest.
“To Feeorin to live in the palace with Queen Amalthea and learn from the scholars there. If she agrees of course,” Isabelle added quickly, remembering that she hadn’t yet been able to ask the queen.
Thadius turned his attention to her, his dark eyes taking her in. “I do not object. He may leave as soon as you are able to send him. The queen will be visiting here shortly so you may ask her about it then. I will send her to find you after I have spoken to her.”
She grinned quickly. “Thank you, sire.” She gave him a quick although clumsy curtsy. It was the best she could muster due to her pregnancy. She gave him one last smile over her shoulder before leaving his study.
Chapter Twelve
Amalthea came into the room slowly, smiling as she saw Isabelle resting on a chaise lounge with her eyes closed, an arm draped over her rounded belly.
“My, my. How so like your mother you look,” Amalthea said as she entered the room and sat down across from her.
Isabelle awakened suddenly, brushing sleep from her eyes and yawning loudly. Once she saw Amalthea, she blushed deeply and dropped her gaze.
“Your majesty…I’m sorry. I must appear a mess,” Isabelle said as she ran her fingers roughly through her hair as she tried to straighten it.
“Nonsense, it may have been centuries ago, but I do remember what it’s like to be in your condition,” Amalthea said with a smile.
“Yes majesty,” Isabelle replied demurely.
Amalthea beamed brightly at her. “Now, I believe that you have some questions for me? That is why Thadius and the guard asked me to come, is it not?”
* * * *
“Yes. And thank you for visiting with me today on such short notice,” Isabelle said as she forced herself to relax in the angelic queen’s presence. It had been over a decade since she had seen Amalthea, her child’s memory remembering her as a radiant woman who had come to visit her mother one afternoon. Although Isabelle knew time had passed it seemed not to have touched the beautiful woman across from her. Isabelle was instantly jealous and then at once shamed by her own vanity.
Amalthea neatly smiled, a small twisting of her softly painted lips. “It is my pleasure, child. Now, ask me your first question.”
Isabelle nodded and then pursed her lips together in thought. “Well I suppose I’d like to know what Feeorin is like.”
Amalthea nodded knowingly. “I thought that might be your first question. It certainly would have been mine. In my younger years, Feeorin was a thriving capital city. Its marble statues were glorious and its cobblestone streets were lined with flowers. Every morning my sister Arabella and I would walk the streets of the market place and smell of the fresh baked bread.”
“And now?” Isabelle asked, leaning forward in curiosity.
Amalthea sighed as a regretful frown marred her beautiful features. “Did you know that my sister was murdered?” Amalthea asked.
Isabelle nodded, wisely biting her tongue from attempting to console the formidable woman. She faintly remembered that Amalthea did not take kindly to pity from anyone.
“On that same night Olivia, our mother, was also murdered,” the queen continued. “Our mother’s death was an act of revenge for her unjustly murder of my sister, but many in the city did not see it that way. At first there were only a few uprisings that were easily put down. Now the city is nearly divided by those that supported my mother and her dreams of Angelus purity and protecting the bloodlines, and those that support myself, my son and Arabella’s memory,” Amalthea said fiercely.
Isabelle met her eyes boldly. “And what is it that you believe in, your majesty?”
Amalthea smiled warmly at her. “Equality.”
Isabelle blinked in surprise. “Between everyone?”
“Of course, though it will likely take some time,” Amalthea said with a nod. For a moment the older woman considered the young princess across from her. “How much do you know about my son?”
“Zorin?” Isabelle asked with a confused frown.
Amalthea smiled. “Yes, Zorin. I have but one son after all.”
“Forgive me, majesty, but what does he have to do with this conversation?”
Amalthea smiled knowingly at her, easily seeing that she was stalling. “Indulge me.”
Isabelle could hardly refuse a request from any queen, least of all the queen of Feeorin, the seat of power in the Phaedran Empire. She sighed resolutely and took a deep breath, knowing that the queen would see through any lie she told. “I have only heard bad things, your majesty,” she said quietly as she dropped her gaze to the worn stone floor.
Amalthea nodded. “Well that is understandable, considering how history wishes to portray him. Would you care to hear a bit about him though? I will tell you the truth, nothing sugar coated or hidden. If you wish to know.”
“Why do you wish me to know about him?” Isabelle asked cautiously.
“You are wise to ask such a question, Isabelle. He could be very helpful to you in the near future,” Amalthea told her.
“I don’t see how,” Isabelle replied, meeting the queen’s gaze evenly as her tone told Amalthea all she thought of her son.
“Let me tell you his story and then you may decide for yourself. Does that sound fair?” Amalthea asked. Isabelle gave a short nod so she continued speaking. “My son is the current, Lord Batal.” At Isabelle’s blank look, Amalthea sighed. “When my mother, Olivia, first became queen, human and Angelus relations were much as they are now and although she never respected humans, she understood the importance of at least pretending to on the surface. So to earn their trust she appointed a human guard, someone to stand for the humans on their side and protect them. Zorin’s father, Justin Danube, was the first Lord Batal. He was a human servant with a wife and two young children waiting for him at home.” Amalthea smiled softly as she reminisced. “I should have never fallen in love with him. I was married to a general in my mother’s army with a young son of my own. But he was so handsome and so very brave. I couldn’t resist him. Have you ever been in love like that?”
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