“One more ‘dirt lover’ out of you, one more insult against the race of men, just one more,” I said, “and you’re not going to like the result. Trust me.”
“I highly doubt—”
“Lavian,” Winston said, letting his form waver again. The other dragon immediately dropped his head and stretched out his neck in what I’d learned was the way that dragons kept themselves from getting barbecued and eaten. Not that I thought it was going to do Lavian much good with the mood Winston was in. The man was going to become flambé in about ten seconds if he didn’t get his act together.
“Now, you tell me what happened,” I said, my eyes fixed on Lavian’s son.
He stepped forward, staring hard at the floor, and his shoulders started to shake. “I’m—” He gasped and his entire body began to tremble. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.
I had to grab the arms of my chair to keep from wrapping my arms around him. He’d set fire to a field. I couldn’t just tell him that it was okay. I didn’t want to punish him, but he could have killed people.
“Your Majesty—” Lavian said.
I held a hand up to silence him before I stood and made my way to the boy. I may not be very good at being a queen yet, but I knew what it was like to be a scared kid. I’d been just as scared as he was ever since my mother had ended up in a coma and I’d gone into foster care.
I dropped to my knees beside the boy before looking up at the two grown men staring down at us. “You two stay quiet. Otherwise I’m going to send you all to the dungeon to think about your manners.”
Rhys, the head of my army and one of my closest friends, let out a barely muffled snort from his post behind my throne. I reminded myself to make a list of all the things he’d missed in the five years he’d been in Nerissette later and then spoil each and every one of them for him. Didn’t he see I was trying to do my queen thing right now?
“Sorry,” he said, his British accent crisp among the softer, more slurred accents of Nerissette. “Must have been something in my throat. Go on, Your Majesty.”
It wasn’t bad enough that I doubted my ability to rule an entire country. Now I had him undermining me? Just what I needed from a supposed friend.
I paused a moment. “Thank you. As I was saying, one more word and someone’s going to the dungeon.”
Rhys coughed again, and I shot him a disapproving glance as the young dragon leaned toward me and sniffled against my shoulder. Obviously someone didn’t want to keep a lid on the fact that the Crystal Palace of Nerissette was lacking in dungeons. The jerk. Didn’t he realize that occasionally white lies were necessary when you were making completely unsupportable threats to show your authority? As well as not-so-white lies about other things just to keep your people calm? Like the unknown status of certain power-hungry dark wizards with an eye on world domination, for example.
“I was flying with Da,” the boy began. Putting aside thoughts about dungeons, I tried to focus on how the farmer’s field had been set on fire. “He was teaching me how to dive and do loop-de-loops and how to race.”
“Then what happened?” I tried to keep my voice even and nonthreatening so he’d continue talking and I could figure out what the heck to do about all this.
“I was flying really fast, so fast that even Da couldn’t keep up with me, and then I got this smell in my nose and everything started to itch and I couldn’t help myself, Your Majesty. I tried and I tried but it was either sneeze where I was or take the chance of setting the Forest of Ananth on fire. There hasn’t been much rain lately so I was afraid that if I sneezed in the forest—”
“You’d set the trees up in flames, and we’d be fighting a fire in half the villages on that side of Wevlyn Lake?” I turned to look at the two men, stunned. The boy had almost set a forest on fire and they were in here fighting over a field? One field?
“That would have been bad,” the boy said quietly against my shoulder. “Wouldn’t it?”
“Over a thousand people could have died because a dragon fledgling needed to sneeze.” I rubbed my face and tried to ignore the headache forming behind my eyes.
“It’s as I told you,” the farmer said, his face now a brilliant red. “They want to burn us all and take our land.”
“Why didn’t your son follow the training guidelines?” Winston asked Lavian as I held the young fledgling closer to me as his sobs slowed. “Everyone knows that fledgling dragons are only to fly over water until given further approval by the Dragos Council.”
“It’s possible I was shortsighted,” the dragon said, his voice quiet and his face the same color as the farmer’s standing next to him. “He is a red dragon and we are known for our flying abilities, as well as our ability to control our transformation. Even still, I should have been more cautious about his training.”
“Right. So.” I looked back and forth between the two men before settling on Lavian, shaking my head. “You, Lavian of the red dragon clan, member of the Council of Dragos, so on and so forth, will pay for the value of Farmer Salvachio’s wheat.”
“What?” Lavian said, his eyes bugging out of his head for a moment.
“Mr. Salvachio.” I ignored the angry dragon. “I am going to request that the dryads come to your fields and see if they can’t heal it so that you can plant again. If it works, we’re done here. If the dryads tell me that you won’t be able to use the field next year, Lavian will have to buy those crops as well, at the same price as he’s paying for these.”
“I—” the red dragon protested.
“As my mom used to tell me: you did wrong, and now you’ve got to pay for it.” I narrowed my eyes at him as I hugged his son tighter. “Your son burned down a field because you weren’t watching him. That means it’s your responsibility to pay for the damages.”
“Who says he’ll actually pay?” Salvachio asked. “Everyone knows dragons never pay their debts.”
“Enough,” I snapped. “I’m not only sick of the dirt lover comments, but I’m really sick of the constant anti-dragon things I hear as well. We’re all Nerissetteans—”
Rhys coughed behind me—again—and I had to fight the urge to turn around and smack him. Last I checked he hadn’t been around to make a suggestion on the whole naming-the-people topic. He and Winston had both skipped that meeting to go hunting instead, and I really wasn’t in the mood for him to second-guess me now. If he didn’t stop it, I was going to get his girlfriend—my very best friend, Mercedes—to use her super-special dryad powers to turn him into plant food. Or even worse, a fern. I was pretty sure she could manage to turn him into a fern. Then I was going to forget to water him.
“We’re all in this together. So no more interspecies bashing, got it?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Salvachio bowed his head before me. “I shall endeavor to be more tolerant, if it pleases you.”
“As will I,” Lavian said, his face still mottled red.
“Good.” I clapped my hands together and nodded at them both before letting go of the fledgling and returning to my throne, squirming to find a comfortable spot as I straightened my overly long skirts. “That settles that. Lavian, you’re paying for the wheat. Salvachio, I’ll set things up with the dryads. If everything’s good, then court is in recess until I get back.”
“My Queen.” John of Leavenwald, head of the woodsmen and my unofficial adviser in all things diplomatic since my coronation, stood next to one of the windows on the far side of the room, his pale hair bright in the sunlight and his gray eyes obscured. “If we could speak for a moment, please?”
I nodded weakly. “Sure. What do you need?”
He came forward and bowed low before stepping onto the dais and leaning down so his lips were next to my ear. “I would not second-guess your ruling, Your Majesty, but what will you do about the boy and his training? People could have died because of his father’s refusal to follow the rules. You cannot let such a thing go.”
The boy. Crap. I’d forgotten about him. Well, okay, not re
ally. I just didn’t want to punish him. Sure, he’d burned down a guy’s field, but he hadn’t done it on purpose, and he’d done the right thing in the situation.
Besides, I didn’t feel like I could punish him. After all, hadn’t I been doing basically the same thing since I’d gotten here? I’d been trying to figure out how to be a leader while fighting a war and guessing what the best possible outcomes could be. The only difference between us was that if I failed, there was a lot more at stake than one forest.
“Do I have to? I mean, he’s a kid,” I whispered. John’s eyes softened for a split second before going back to their normal iron gray. “And I really don’t want to punish him just because his dad’s a jerk. That would make me a tad hypocritical considering who my father is.”
John flinched. The most likely candidate for my father was the evil wizard intent on killing me and taking my throne. Yeah, after having my “dad” try to kill me and take over my kingdom I didn’t feel like I could punish anyone else for having lousy parents.
“Then give him the chance to grow into a good dragon. An honorable dragon. Let him have a worthy fate instead of one that’s marred by the mistakes of youth.” John’s eyes were fixed on mine.
“He needs to be trained properly,” I said, nodding. “So that next time he’s flying he doesn’t accidentally kill someone.” I looked over at the boy, who was still clinging to the back of his father’s shirt. “Lavian, your son—”
“Dravak.” The boy sniffled and then peered up at me with red-rimmed eyes.
His father could have turned him into a murderer, a monster, if the boy hadn’t changed course. And he would have had to live with that. He’d have been forced to spend his life remembering the people who’d died because of his actions. That was a miserable fate, one I didn’t want to share with anyone. Especially a young boy.
“Dravak,” I said, trying to keep my face stiff and all queen-like instead of letting tears well up in my eyes at what I was about to do. “Dravak will stay here, in the care of the tutors at the aerie until he completes his training. Then he can go back to Dramera and take up his duties in the red dragon clan.”
“I will not turn my son over to a bunch of dirt-loving—”
“Really?” Dravak pushed past his father and dropped to his knees in front of the throne. “You’re going to let me join the aerie? Only the best dragon warriors are allowed to live there and protect the Rose and her throne. Fate herself chooses them. The warriors of the aerie are touched as her own.”
“Well.” I swallowed and tried to forget the fact that so many people here believed their lives were ruled by some divine goddess they had never seen, who had laid out the paths of their lives before they were even born.
I knew better, of course. Esmeralda had told me Fate was fiction. She’d made up the idea of the goddess and her prophecies to keep one of my ancestors on the throne and prevent a civil war. But the idea had taken root and now, and no matter what I said, the people here were determined to live by a fake goddess’s will.
“Your Majesty?” John asked.
“Indeed, Fate herself told me in my orb,” I said, my voice shaking. “She told me that a brave dragon warrior in need of shaping would come into my throne room today and I was to take him into the aerie. Fate herself told me to look out for you, if your father approves.”
Hatred burned in the blacks of Lavian’s eyes. He knew I was lying. He knew Fate wasn’t taking his son away from him, but me, Alicia Munroe, the not-quite-seventeen-year-old, brand-new Golden Rose of Nerissette.
I kept my eyes on his and let them both pretend that Lavian had a say in whether or not his son trained here. That we were united in making sure that Dravak met his destiny. That this was something to be celebrated.
“It’s a high honor that Fate and her handmaiden, the Golden Rose, have bestowed on you,” Lavian said stiffly, his eyes never leaving mine as he spoke to his son. “Always act in a way that proves you deserve her trust and that Fate has chosen wisely in bringing you here.”
“I will, Da.” Dravak nodded vigorously at his father and his eyes shone with happiness, as if I’d just given him the world’s best gift instead of taking him away from his family. “I’ll be a great dragon warrior. I’ll fight bravely for the Golden Rose and her throne. I’ll—”
“I’m sure you will,” I said, and tried to ignore how much this decision utterly sucked. “Now, by the light of the Pleiades, thank you all for coming. My royal audience is over but there’s food on the tables in the formal gardens for anyone who’s hungry. Please, make yourselves at home.”
“Allie?” Winston asked.
“I need a minute.” I pushed myself out of the throne and headed for the door behind my throne. “Just one minute.”
“Your Majesty.” John opened the heavy wooden door and motioned me through. “You need to meet with the newly appointed ambassador from Bathune. His delegation will be here soon, and they won’t wait for you to have a snack.”
“I know. I know. Meeting with the new ambassador four hours before the ball to welcome him to court with three hundred guests and—”
“Your Majesty,” Timbago said, hurrying after us, his long, hoop-pierced ears trembling. The small green goblin only came up to my knee but he still managed to keep my palace running efficiently, and apparently keep up with our full-length strides. “Are you well?”
“I just…” I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. I’d just lied to a little boy. I’d taken him from his family and I’d justified it by lying. By telling him that it was the will of Fate. I’d lied to him like I’d been lying to everyone else, and it was finally catching up to me. Everything here seemed to be built on lies.
“Just take a minute.” John took my hands in his and squeezed them.
“Thank you.” I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall of the darkened servants’ hallway that led from my throne room to the kitchens. “It was all too much. I mean, if that boy wouldn’t have changed course—”
“Don’t think about it,” John said. “It’s a battle you don’t have to fight, so let it alone. The forest was safe, and you’ve punished the dragon responsible. No one else will consider such a foolish action again.”
“But he’s so young… That boy. I took him from his father—and his mother! I didn’t even think about her—”
“He could have massacred everyone on that side of the lake,” John said. “He wouldn’t have meant to but his father’s reaction was rash and he could have turned the boy into a murderer because of his lack of thought and his ego.”
“I know that I had to protect Dravak before something more serious happened, but that doesn’t mean it sucks any less that I had to be the one to take him from his parents.”
Timbago pressed a hand against my knee. “You did the right thing.”
“Well, it still feels lousy. I took a kid from his parents and now he’s going to be trained to fight, whether he wants to or not. Because he thinks that this is what Fate wants.”
“Sometimes it’s better for children to be away from their parents and safe, than with them and in danger,” John said, looking away for a moment.
“Is it? I was apart from my parents and I’ve got to tell you I never felt any better off—at least not after I lost Mom.”
John slowly met my eyes, his gaze direct. “You’re young. Perhaps one day you’ll understand. Until then, just know that sometimes even the right decisions can make you feel bad.”
“John?”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Thanks. For everything, I mean. Watching my back and getting me out of there for a few minutes and…”
“You’re welcome. Now, are you ready to watch the new ambassador of Bathune grovel at your feet?”
“Grovel?”
“The last ambassador from Bathune—Sarai—fled during the Battle of the Hall of the Pleiades,” John explained. My stomach clenched at even the mention of the day I’d been crowned queen and promptly tumbl
ed my kingdom into civil war.
“And he ran away because your aunt, the empress of Bathune, was in league with the Fate Maker,” Timbago added. “Even though she’d like you to believe otherwise. There are even those who say they saw your aunt’s ambassador fighting beside the Fate Maker.”
“But my aunt keeps sending me notes that say she had nothing to do with the war and is simply waiting for us to hammer out a peace agreement before she sends Sarai back here to Nerissette,” I said.
Not that I necessarily believed any of what she wrote. Her former ambassador, Sarai, was a wizard and that group as a whole wasn’t particularly fond of me. Plus, he was my aunt’s ambassador, and from everything I’d heard and read about her since I’d arrived in Nerissette, I wasn’t sure I could trust her. Especially after she’d left me to fight a war on my own and didn’t even bother to ask if I needed any help.
“We have been at peace for a while now,” Timbago pointed out. “Your aunt has sent trade groups across the White Mountains. Why hasn’t Sarai returned with them? Why is she sending a new ambassador in his place? Unless she knows that we don’t trust him?”
“Exactly,” John agreed. “We know it and so does she. She can’t send Sarai back here when we know he’s a spy for the Fate Maker that his allegiance is to the wizards and not to us.”
“Are we sure that he was fighting with the Fate Maker’s army?” I asked. “We’re certain that he fled, but do we know without a doubt that he was fighting for our enemy?”
“Gunter of the Veldt insists that Sarai was hiding in the forests with the wizards, and when the forest caught fire, he ran,” John said.
The fire. I bit my lower lip as my heart thumped painfully in my chest and I tried my hardest not to think about how I’d ordered Winston and the rest of the dragons to set fire to the forest outside my palace during my last battle with the Fate Maker. We’d been trying to flush out the wizards who had been attacking us from the cover of the trees, but instead, two of the other teens who’d fallen through the book with me—Heidi and Jesse—had been trapped there with the wizards. They were caught in a fire that I had started. I was the reason they were dead.
Evanescent (Chronicles of Nerissette) Page 2