Chosen: Curse of the Draekon Book One

by Samantha Britt

  “He is… adequate.” I watched my sister’s face fall.

  “Adequate?” She saw my smile and knew I was teasing her. “You’re horrible.” She flung a nearby pillow into my face. I laughed and returned the attack. I hit her square in the nose.

  “Ow! Lissy…” Lorie whined and clutched her nose in her hand.

  Regret consumed me. “I’m sorry.” I hopped off the couch and kneeled beside her. “Let me see.”

  Lorie whimpered again. Then she dropped her hand with a triumphant smile. I didn’t see the flowery pillow coming until it smacked me on the cheek.

  I gaped at her, anger and amusement fighting for dominance. “You—” I was cut off by the swift knock at the door.

  I knew that knock.

  Master Errol waited two whole seconds before strolling in. I’d become accustomed to his impatience.

  Lorie and I were fixing our frazzled hair when he entered.

  He stopped as he took in our various stages of disarray. I glanced at my sister and quickly blocked her from sight as I retied the lace of her bodice and lifted it higher. In turn, she helped me tuck in my long-sleeved blouse. I’d traded in the kitchen corset for a tight green healer’s top. And in lieu of the green, floor-length skirt, I’d been given a brown one, which flowed down just below my knee. Master Errol wore a matching set. Though his top was loose, and his bottoms were long, brown trousers.

  Satisfied my sister was appropriately covered, I turned back around and saw pink highlighting the master healer’s cheeks. He stared intently at something on the right wall. His hands clasped behind his back.

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek.

  “Master Errol?” I tried to hide my amusement. “Are you in need of my assistance?”

  The draekon turned back toward us. He seemed composed, but I could detect his lingering embarrassment. He wouldn’t even look at my sister.

  “Indeed. We are summoned to assist a patient in severe need. We should depart immediately.”

  Instantly, my humorous mood vanished. The sense of duty took its place.

  I looked at my sister. “I might need to skip the parlor tonight.” I reached out and gently squeezed her hand. “Say hi to everyone for me.”

  Lorie dipped her head. “Of course.” She squeezed me back before moving towards the exit. I marked the steps Master Errol made to keep his distance. He gave Lorie a good three feet of berth as she passed, but I noted the way his eyes lingered on her back as she passed through the doorframe.

  I cleared my throat.

  The draekon stiffened and jerked his head. “Come.”

  We traveled down familiar hallways, passing the lingering court guests and staff as the castle began to quiet for the night. The sun had set long ago, and draekon were diligent about their sleep. I’d rarely heard of gatherings or parties lasting well into the night—unless it was a human one, of course.

  Master Errol led the way in silence. I didn’t mind. It allowed me to save my breath to keep up with his fast pace. I’d come to realize all draekon walked naturally fast.

  “That was your sister?” His question broke through my thoughts.

  I’d spoken of my family briefly during our first couple of days together. Master Errol knew she lived in the castle, and he’d been surprisingly generous by trying to ensure I had time off each evening to visit her.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Her name’s Alorie, but I call her Lorie.” I wasn’t sure I’d ever told him her name.

  “And she calls you Lissy?”

  I blinked. How long had he been standing outside the door?

  “It’s a nickname. Most people call me Lissa.”

  “You two look alike.”

  “Yes.”

  “She seems softer… more… delicate...” He said the words quietly, almost like he didn’t intend to share them out loud. I was used to it. While we worked, he tended to mutter and murmur his thoughts.

  “Prettier,” I offered. Lorie’s innocence and untainted joy made her the most beautiful member of our family

  Master Errol tilted his head but didn’t miss a step. “Yes. I suppose so.”

  I looked away from his face. I didn’t know what his contemplative look meant, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  It was at that moment I realized the direction we were heading. My heart began to increase its beat. “We are going to the royal quarters?”

  My question brought Master Errol back to business. He rolled his shoulders back and straightened his tunic. “Yes. The princess is in need of treatment.”

  “The princess?” I’d never laid eyes on the royal female. But that wasn’t unusual. The royal family had their own servants—all of them draekon. The only humans who saw them on a regular basis were the ones who served and ran food and drink to the court dining hall.

  During our nightly parlor gatherings, I usually heard one or two people discussing the wealthy and attractive draekon from the prominent event. Sometimes, I heard mention of the prince but never the princess.

  “What ails her?” I asked, mentally preparing myself to treat another member of the powerful draekon family.

  Master Errol passed the prince’s rooms and instead landed outside a matching set of wooden doors farther down the hall. He turned to me with a grim expression. “You will see.” Then he pushed open the doors, and we stepped into the princess’s chambers.

  24

  The metallic smell of blood was the first thing I noticed. I sniffed the air and covered my nose as the telling aroma of vomit filled my nostrils. Lowering my hand, I switched to breathing through my mouth.

  The main room was empty, but I heard quiet murmurs floating through a wide doorway on the other side of the space. A weak moan reached me. I started walking towards the sound without Master Errol’s instruction.

  I crossed the threshold and stopped. I’d entered a bed chamber—the princess’s from the looks of it. A bed, double the size of any I’d ever seen, was centered in the room, surrounded by objects of beauty and value. But I wasn’t interested in any of that.

  My eyes landed on the pale beauty lying on top of purple silk blankets. She wore a delicate nightdress. The fabric stuck to her damp skin.

  I knew the female had to be the princess, but I was stunned to see a full-blooded draekon appear so ill.

  Not just any draekon, I reminded myself. A royal draekon.

  Master Errol brushed past me, entering the bed chamber. “How long has she been like this?” He questioned the dark haired draekon standing beside the bed. I sucked in a breath as I identified Prince Finn.

  “I don’t know,” the prince answered. “I came to say goodnight, and I found her like this.” He sounded frightened, and he looked a mess. His hair was standing on end, and his shirt was rumpled.

  “Amelissa,” Master Errol summoned me. I tore my gaze away from the prince and approached the bed, focusing on the patient.

  The princess was thin, too thin. I’d already marked her pale skin, but I hadn’t been able to see the dark purple circles under her eyes or the bright blue veins pressing against her skin. She was too pale for a draekon—like she hadn’t seen daylight in weeks. She didn’t suffer from a sudden illness: the princess had been sick for some time.

  “Get the lungwort tincture from my bag,” Master Errol instructed. “Drop it into the tea and bring it here.”

  I quickly retrieved the medicine, but I paused when I couldn’t find the tea he mentioned.

  Prince Finn stepped into my sight, holding out a kettle. I muttered my thanks before taking the tea and completing my task.

  I returned to Master Errol’s side and handed him the cup and saucer I’d found sitting on a table. He gently lifted the princess by her shoulders. “Drink this, Your Highness.”

  The princess tried to swallow the mixture, but a fresh bout of coughing made her spew the liquid on the bed. She hacked up mucous and blood before collapsing against the healer.

  I grabbed a cloth from Master Errol’s bag. I climbed on th
e other side of the bed until I sat beside the patient. Leaning forward, I wiped the fluid from her mouth.

  “Consumption?” I whispered, trying to diagnose the signs of her illness.

  “No.” Master Errol propped the pillows and placed the princess against them. “An illness since childhood. Unidentifiable.”

  I could hardly believe what he said. A draekon child—a princess—had been sick since childhood? It didn’t make sense. The beings were supposed to be indestructible.

  “What medicines have you tried?” I didn’t hesitate to ask questions. It was a trait Master Errol had expressed appreciation for. He even encouraged it. He said my curiosity would allow me to learn at a faster rate and become a better healer.

  He stood, gazing at the princess. “All of them.” He proceeded to list off every single herbal and draekon-made remedy I’d heard of. “None of them last long. The princess may be weak, but her draekon blood is strong. She burns through medicines, metabolizing them with ease. But that makes their effects diminish too quickly to allow her time to heal.”

  I wanted to ask why her draekon blood couldn’t heal the condition on its own, but I bit my tongue. It seemed impolite to ask, especially in front of the patient and her brother, but I planned to question Master Errol once we were alone.

  The princess coughed, bringing up more thick, green mucous. It was a wonder she could breathe.

  “Have you tried chest percussions?” I thought of past patients with lung troubles. It was the only thing besides herbal remedies I could think of.

  Master Errol stared at me. “What?”

  “Chest percussions.” It dawned on me he might have never resorted to the lung-clearing method.

  But why would he? The healer had the kingdom’s best medicines at his disposal. I wondered if he’d ever seen an illness he couldn’t fix with a few drops of tinctures or application of oils and ointments.

  “What are chest percussions?” Prince Finn asked from behind me.

  I looked briefly over my shoulder, noticing the brotherly concern swimming in the prince’s gaze, before turning back to Master Errol. “It’s a way to break up the mucous in her lungs. It won’t cure the illness, but it will alleviate some of her symptoms. She will be able to breathe better.”

  Behind me, the prince exhaled. “Do it.”

  I waited for Master Errol’s approval. He assessed me, trying to deduce if my proposed treatment was worth the attempt. “I am unfamiliar with the technique,” he said. “You’ll have to do it.”

  I swallowed. Chest percussions would involve getting very close to the princess with the potential for bruising. I prayed to the gods that neither she nor her brother would be angry about it.

  The princess wheezed, draining any desire I had to protest.

  “We will need to lay the princess flat with her head towards the edge of the bed.”

  Master Errol quickly readjusted the patient.

  I scooted down the bed until I stood at the edge, near the princess’s head. Her glassy eyes met mine. She looked disoriented.

  I cupped my hand like I was holding water. “I am going to loosen the mucous in your lungs,” I told her. I held up my palm face down. “I will use my hands to strike various areas of your chest. It shouldn’t hurt too much, but if it does, please let me know.”

  A slight dip of her chin let me know she heard me. She wheezed.

  Without looking at the males in the room, I began.

  Keeping my arms relaxed, I began clapping against both sides of her upper lungs. I made sure to avoid her collarbone, keeping the rhythmic beat between it and above the bottom of her breasts. I’d seen Mistress Molly perform the technique many times, but I’d only done it once. Even so, I’d been a good student and paid attention. I knew what I was doing.

  At least, that’s what I continued to tell myself as I treated the princess.

  Moving my attention to her side, I crawled on the bed and completed the same procedure on both sides of her lower chest. I took care not to hit her ribs or stomach.

  By the time I was done, my hands were stinging. I didn’t know how long I’d worked, but I guessed it was more than fifteen minutes.

  During that time, no one in the room said a word. When I finished, I gently guided the princess onto her side and told her to try and cough. Master Errol placed a rag in front of her just in time.

  I suppressed my gag as several ounces of mucous drained through the princess’s enlarged airways. I rubbed her back soothingly, encouraging her to continue expelling the suffocating phlegm.

  The princess did not give up. She used her shaky arms to prop herself up. I followed her movement, continuing my subtle vibrations on her back, helping the process. On hands and knees, she continued to cough and discharge the thick fluid.

  Minutes later, she stopped. The princess leaned back, and I had to move quickly to catch her thin frame in my arms. I lost my balance and fell back with her onto the center of the mattress, but at least I protected her from falling off the edge of the bed.

  In my arms, the princess inhaled deeply. Her eyes popped open and she gasped. “Oh my.” Her voice was scratchy, but it was still lovely. “I-I can breathe.”

  I closed my eyes, relief washing over me. I hadn’t hurt the princess.

  “Where did you learn how to do that?” Prince Finn’s voice filled with his own brotherly relief and a hint of admiration. I opened my eyes. The prince had moved to stand by Master Errol. Both males stared at me and the princess with a mix of disbelief, gratitude, and awe.

  I lifted the shoulder the princess wasn’t resting on. “We don’t have an abundance of medicine in Caldiri. We have to resort to other treatment methods.”

  Both draekon nodded with understanding.

  “Thank you,” the prince whispered, gazing affectionately at his sister. I looked down and realized the princess had fallen asleep. Her breathing pattern was soft and consistent.

  “Here.” The prince walked around and lifted the princess out of my arms. Master Errol and I ripped away the dirty blankets and sheets from the bed. The prince lowered the princess onto the bare mattress.

  I saw a fresh set of sheets on a chair by the door. I walked over to retrieve the items when a large, dark form appeared in the doorway, giving me pause.

  The pause turned into a complete halt as my eyes fully took in the male before me.

  Every single nerve ending fired, and my blood ran cold. My body was trying to tell me to run, but my mind stuttered, unable to respond.

  A draekon male stood in the doorway. He was massive, more so than a normal draekon. His hair stood inches away from the top of the doorframe, and his shoulders nearly filled the wide opening. And raw, unchecked power rolled off his skin, invading the room with its dominating aura.

  Gulping, I looked down. My eyes landed on fancy leather boots. I noticed they were covered in mud, as if the draekon had been traipsing through a rainy field.

  “I came as soon as I could. How is she?” The stranger’s voice was rough, but it caressed my skin as it flew past me. I squeezed my eyes shut, confused by the reaction.

  The air around me shifted as the draekon brushed past me. I might as well have been invisible. I spun around to watch the imposing male approach the princess.

  Prince Finn greeted the newcomer with a sigh. “You got my message?”

  “Yes,” the draekon said, moving to stand beside the bed. He loomed over the sleeping princess. “How is she?” he repeated with rough unease.

  “Resting. Thanks to Healer Amelissa.” I straightened as the prince addressed me. I’d yet to be given the title of honor, but he used it without pause.

  The stranger looked at the prince, scowling. “Who?”

  I was ashamed to admit it but embarrassment flooded me. Had the draekon really not seen me standing directly in his path?

  Prince Finn waved his hand towards me. Rather than wait for the newcomer’s gaze to land on me, I busied myself by gathering the clean linen and approaching the bed
. Master Errol and I made quick work of making the bed while Prince Finn, again, lifted his sister.

  I tucked the last sheet corner, and the prince returned her to the soft mattress. Thankfully, the princess remained asleep throughout the ordeal.

  “You mean her?” I felt the draekon’s gaze land on me. I refused to look up. Instead, I kept my eyes trained on the mattress by his legs and nodded.

  “Does it speak?”

  My cheeks burned, but I said nothing. I wouldn’t know where to begin even if I tried.

  “Brother,” Prince Finn scolded. “Stop being an ass.”

  I gasped, and my neck snapped up. Brother?

  The draekon—Prince Brion—met my wide eyes. I watched him warily and saw him sniff the air. His expression shifted, and a sharp knowing filled his gaze. Before I could read any more of his expression, his nostrils flared, and a displeased frown marred his face.

  “Her?” he said again, throwing brunt displeasure behind the single word.

  I stood still as stone, my hands pressed against my sides. I wanted to be anywhere but there.

  The draekon glaring down at me was the epitome of the terrifying creatures from my nightmares: the villain in every horrific story I’d been told as a child. But I refused to show him how much his presence terrified me. My will was stronger than anything, even the prince of the draekon.

  I turned away from his imposing stare. I locked eyes with Master Errol, then Prince Finn. “The princess should receive the chest percussions each night before bed,” I told them, all business. I was proud of my steady voice and still hands. “Clearing her passageways will enable her to sleep more soundly. Hopefully, the extra rest will permit her body to try and fight off the illness.”

  Both males nodded. “Of course,” Master Errol said. He bowed his neck to both princes. “With Your Highnesses’ permission, I would like Healer Amelissa to administer the princess’s treatment.”

  “Why not you?” Prince Brion asked.

  I could practically feel Prince Brion’s glare boring into the side of my face. He doubted me and my skill. That was fine. I didn’t need his approval.