The Twin Dragons: Book III in the Elementals Series

by Marisol Logan

  The Twin

  Dragons

  -Book III

  of the Elementals Series-

  by Marisol Logan

  THE ELEMENTALS SERIES

  BOOK I-Lord and Servant

  BOOK II-The Second Talisman

  BOOK III-The Twin Dragons

  BOOK IV-Daughter of the Diamond (April 2017)

  BOOK V-Queen of the Earth (May 2017)

  An APPENDIX of people, places and terms has been provided at the back of the book for your convenience, if you are just starting the series or need a quick reminder at any time.

  Thanks to my wonderful sisters and my mom, and love to my husband, for all their support. Special thanks to my editors, whose guidance and dedication made this series possible.

  Copyright © 2017 Marisol Logan

  All rights reserved

  Cover Design: Romacdesigns

  Editors: Jessica Evans and Jessica Young

  -I -

  Irea twirled a doll in her hands and Veria watched carefully to make sure her daughter did not slam its porcelain face on the hard floor, as she seemed to like to do with all her toys in this stage.

  The expensive doll was one of many gifts she had received—this one from Willis Villicrey, who had explained that it was hand made in Govaland and extremely valuable.

  Who would give a baby anything 'extremely valuable'? Veria thought. She had tried several times to put it up on a shelf in Tanisca's library, but Irea would always see it and throw screaming fits until someone got it down for her.

  Her daughter opened her mouth as far as it could go in a consuming, and adorable, yawn. Then the eyes fluttered and head nodded forward, causing her tiny dark chocolate curls to flop toward her face. She brushed them away and rubbed her eyes, then looked at Veria in exhausted desperation.

  She laughed. “Is it nap time already?” Irea yawned again. Veria scooped her up and took her to her room upstairs. Within seconds of placing her in her bed, Irea was fast asleep, and Veria exited the room as quietly as she could.

  Maintaining her stealthy silence down the stairs, she jumped when Tanisca emerged from her library at the bottom of the stairs and addressed her.

  “Veria! You have a parcel, again,” she practically shouted.

  “Sshhhh!” Veria hissed. “Irea is asleep.”

  “And she has slept through half of her life so far,” Tanisca muttered, as Veria reached the bottom of the stairs. “I think she will be just fine. Now, come.” She gestured to the library, and Veria followed her into what she could only assume was the warmest room in the entire house.

  “Have you found a new workman?” Veria questioned. “We are going to run out of firewood at the rate you are heating yourself.”

  “You would love it if I found a new workman,” Tanisca teased, and Veria rolled her eyes. “Besides, can you not just run out there and rip some trees out of the ground. I know most of the wood in this house so far this autumn has come from your little practice sessions.”

  “It's an outlet for frustration, Mother,” she replied.

  “Frustration with what?” her mother asked.

  “Everything.”

  “Well, your little frustrations are liable to land you on the Red List if you don't watch your back,” Tanisca warned.

  “Thank you for telling me things I already know. How about instead you tell me who the parcel is from and what it is?”

  Tanisca located an envelope tucked into the twine on the bottom of the parcel, and removed a note from it.

  “It's from the King,” she answered, a bit excitedly, “and it says 'Finally, I have a luncheon available. Can you come to the castle tomorrow? Thank you for your patience, and I hope this makes up for it'.” She handed the package to Veria. Nervously, she ripped the paper off of the package, and then pulled the top off of the box.

  Tanisca gasped as they both laid eyes on a silky, jewel-encrusted, rose-red gown, spilling down to the floor as Veria let the box fall to the ground in her moment of shock.

  “Oh my,” Tanisca murmured.

  It had been two months since the reception at the Guyler Estate for Willis and Andon's appointment to the Regalship, where Veria had first discussed her investigation of her father's death with King Browan. He had mentioned then that he was about to enter a period of trade negotiations, so Veria had just been waiting for the word.

  And here it was. With the most incredible dress she had ever seen, which was saying quite a bit, because Tanisca had very high tastes and had commissioned many intricate and luxurious dresses throughout the years.

  “You have to wear it tomorrow,” Tanisca said, a twinkle in her eye as she scooped the dress from Veria and draped it over her own frame.

  “To a luncheon?” Veria scoffed. “I will be completely overdressed. That dress is for a ball, or a ceremony.”

  “It's for a queen,” Tanisca added.

  “Ha! Well, then he has made a mistake in sending it to me,” Veria said.

  “You could be the Queen, Veria,” Tanisca suggested, reaching out to Veria's wrist and touching the wide, bronze bracelet that hugged it.

  Veria pulled her hand back instinctively. “No,” she shook her head.

  “It would be so easy,” Tanisca argued. “With your new set of Fire skills, you can have him wanting to marry you faster than it would take him to walk across the Regal Chamber to ask you.”

  “Mother,” Veria sighed, “I am not having this conversation again. The answer is 'no'. I am going to the castle to continue the investigation with him, not to fill him with false desires and ideas.”

  “Darling, don't you want to be Queen?” Tanisca rebutted.

  “No, not particularly,” Veria stated plainly.

  “Why not?”

  “It doesn't feel right,” Veria answered with a shrug. “It doesn't feel like what I am supposed to be.”

  “That's not much of an answer,” Tanisca sneered.

  “Alright, well how about this answer then?” Veria replied. “If no eligible man in the entire Kingdom thought they could take on the scandal of my father's name, then what makes you think the King can? The public will hate it, his advisers will hate it because I am not a princess or foreign noble with diplomatic or economic benefit, and they will probably bring a slew of verifiers around to weed out my deceptions, and I will be hanged for using my powers on the King.”

  Tanisca cocked her head as she contemplated the words coming at her. “Alright,” she sighed reluctantly, “you have a point.”

  Much to Tanisca's chagrin, Veria chose something more casual than the King's gift to wear to the castle for the visit—a sleek, velvet, periwinkle off the shoulder dress that showed off her thin frame, back to its original state after the alterations carrying Irea had caused. Stepping out of the carriage in front of the castle, with a polite and helpful hand from one of the front guards, she nervously smoothed her hands down the front, partly to make sure the dress had not been rumpled during travel and partly because she loved the feel of velvet and it comforted her.

  “The King is expecting you, my Lady,” the guard said, bowing slightly to her as the huge iron gate raised to let her in.

  Another guard just on the inside of the gate offered to escort her to the Regal Chamber, where King Browan waited, and she took his arm as he led her across the front courtyard, through a large wooden door, and into the castle.

  The walls buzzed and hummed to her. They were old, old stone bricks, filled with Earth energy. Not as ancient as the mountain caverns of Plazic Peak, Veria thought, but old nonetheless, and dense with the elements.

  They ascended a large staircase, li
ned with red velvet carpet, and continued to follow the red carpet through a wide arch, into the Regal Chamber. There were windows, but they let in very little natural light, so the room had been lined on both sides by a dozen iron candelabras, and glowed with the light of flickering orange candle flames.

  The little bits of flame called out to her as well, as did the iron of the candelabras, and the wood of the throne...

  The throne! she thought in panic, realizing she had been walking straight toward it while surveying the room, and was now within a few feet of the King.

  “Your majesty,” she said as she dropped suddenly into a deep curtsy.

  “Lady Veria,” the King's voice sounded. It was a pleasing tone, but hoarse, and almost tired sounding. He must spend much of his time talking, Veria thought. “I am so pleased to see you.”

  Veria took that as her cue to stand, and when she lifted her head, she saw that he stood right in front of her. He was twice her size, she realized at the close distance. He dwarfed her in width. His legs and arms and chest were barrels of muscles that made him look more like a knight or a warrior than a King. And he had several inches on her height as well, and she had to crane her neck to look at his face when they were this close.

  He held his hands out for hers, and cautiously, she took them.

  “Follow me,” he said softly.

  He transferred both of her hands into one of his large, strong ones and turned and started walking toward the back of the Regal Chamber. She followed, having to take twice as many steps as him just to keep up. He led them through a door behind the curtains that lined the back wall of the throne chamber.

  Then it was up a spiral staircase, through another hallway, and up another spiral staircase, King Browan looking back at her with a mischievous grin sporadically through the trek. Finally, they reached a door and he turned back to her before opening it.

  “I thought you might enjoy this,” he said, his eyes glowing with delight, his lips parting slightly in a guileful grin.

  Veria couldn't help but smile in response.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, his grin widening.

  “I suppose so,” Veria giggled.

  “Alright,” he said, squeezing her hand before turning to the door, producing a key from his shirt, and unlocking then opening it. It creaked in protest. He turned back to her and reached for her hand, and when she took it, he guided her through the door before him.

  The room was not the largest, and in the middle sat a small table, covered with a decadent-looking array of fruits and meat and cheeses and bottles of wine. Along the outside of the circular room were various instruments pointing out some of the windows, of which there were many.

  And that is where the true beauty of the room lie: from this tower, through its multitude of tall, wide windows, Veria could see the entire grounds of the castle. They were above everything else, and she marveled at the view as she walked around the perimeter of the room.

  “This is amazing,” she murmured.

  “The observation tower,” King Browan said. “You strike me as the curious type. I figured I would have to fascinate you to impress you.”

  She turned back to him as he approached her, standing by the window that gave her the best view of the extensive gardens. “Why would you want to impress me, your Majesty?” Veria asked.

  “If we are to be friends, colleagues of sorts, I want your respect,” he replied, plainly.

  “You are the King,” Veria said with a chuckle. “I already have a great deal of respect for you.”

  “Ah, but it is not earned,” he corrected her. “It is not because of me as a person. It is just because of my title. Just as many offer respect to you based on your title, but without knowing you. Once they get to know you, the respect is much deeper. It is stronger, more meaningful.”

  “Or not,” Veria muttered, thinking of Rames and Andon and Daloes, who had gotten to know her better and now wanted nothing to do with her. Rames, though he did not remember any of the incident when he attacked her and she hit him in the back of the head using her powers, hardly spoke to her when he came to visit Irea. She had listened to his desires when he was there, playing with his daughter—he wanted Ambra to get through carrying their child, wanted them both to survive the labor and delivery. And he resented Veria because she hadn't had any difficulties with any of it.

  “Anyone who gets to know you and does not respect you more is surely a fool,” King Browan chuckled.

  “You don't know me,” she said softly. “I hear I'm arrogant and infuriatingly difficult.”

  “I hear that about me, too,” he laughed. With a hand on her elbow, her guided her to the table in the middle of the room. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she nodded, and he pulled one of the chairs out for her. When she sat, he pushed it in for her, and then took his seat across from her.

  “It's nothing fancy,” he said, gesturing to the food. “I have had nonstop trade negotiations since I saw you last, which has meant fairly regular feasts and receptions for this foreign official and that. I'm looking forward to returning to some simpler fare. For awhile anyway.”

  “It looks delicious to me,” Veria said.

  “Well, help yourself. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can get to our discussion.”

  Veria arranged herself a plate of braiberries, goat cheese, cured meats and a few slices of a soft herbed bread, and the King waited for her to finish before serving himself. They ate quietly, Veria still glancing out the large window from her spot at the table, admiring the grounds, and watching in awe as a steady stream of carriages, horses, and wagons came to and from the castle. She never really realized how much went on at the castle on a daily basis. Her life was so quiet and routine...his life must be nonstop—people telling him where to go and what to do, a meeting every hour of each day, a dinner with guests every night.

  “Do you come up here a lot?” she asked, noticing him also staring out the windows while he ate.

  He turned back to look at her. “Yes, in fact,” he answered. “It's quiet.”

  “You probably don't get much of that.”

  “No,” he shook his head and chuckled, “no, I do not.”

  “Well, Your Majesty,” Veria said, but he held up a hand to stop her from continuing.

  “Browan.”

  “King Browan,” she started again. And again he held up his hand.

  “No, just...just Browan. Please.”

  “That's—” she started to argue, but decided against arguing with the King. She took a deep breath and proceeded: “Browan, we don't have to talk about the investigation today, if you would prefer more quiet.”

  He surveyed her in silence, a smirk slowly curling just the left corner of his lips as he did.

  “That is an amazingly kind gesture, my Lady,” he said finally. “I know this investigation is quite important to you. You would give up the opportunity to start working on it today just so I could have some serenity for an hour?”

  “I guess so,” she shrugged before taking a bite of bread and a sip of wine.

  “And here you thought I might not respect you if I got to know you further,” he chuckled.

  “Oh, there is still a lot about me you don't know,” she warned, playfully.

  “I intend to find it out then...”

  Their gazes met, and Veria could not hold back any longer—she had to know his thoughts. His desires. Feeling the warmth of the Fire energy in her bracelet against the thin skin of her wrist, she connected with it, and was suddenly flooded with all his desires at once. She tried not to give any outward cues, draining a few gulps of her sweet wine as she tried to filter through the onslaught of his thoughts.

  He wanted quiet, yes, and sleep—more sleep—longer days, more hours, more time in the dark sanctuary of his private chambers...with her.

  She swallowed hard, and her heart began to beat a little stronger, but she continued to try to listen to his desires, his eyes still settled on her fac
e as she did.

  He wanted to see her in the dress he'd had made for her. He wanted her out of it. He wanted to see it—no, he wanted to take it off himself...he wanted to touch every inch of her...

  She went dizzy and visibly wavered as her breath caught, her chest fluttered and her face went hot. Browan jumped out of his seat and was at her side in a single rapid stride, a hand on her shoulder and concern on his face.

  “Are you alright, Lady Veria?” he asked, kneeling so their faces were level.

  “Yes,” she answered, nodding fervently. “I'm fine. Just the wine, I'm sure.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Is it the height of the tower? It can tend to make some dizzy at times.”

  “Maybe that's it,” she lied.

  “We can go somewhere else—”

  “No, no,” Veria objected. “I like it up here. You like it up here. And we do not have to move all this food on my account. I will be fine, I'm sure.”

  Browan tilted his head and took her in without a word for several moments.

  “If you insist, Lady Veria.”

  “Just Veria,” she teased, with a playful smile.

  “Veria...” he murmured as he stood and walked back to his seat. “Well, Veria, if we sit here quietly today, we will have to meet again another time to discuss your father.”

  “That's fine,” she said, grinning demurely at him.

  “A dinner, perhaps?” he suggested enthusiastically.

  “Of course, Your Ma—Browan.”

  “Tomorrow?” he asked, a wide smile revealing all his teeth.

  “Alright,” she agreed with a titter.

  “Alright,” he repeated. “But now we enjoy some quiet.”

  “Yes,” Veria smiled.

  “Do you play Tactics?” he asked, cocking his head at her.

  “I can't say I have, no,” she answered. “It's a game?”

  “Yes, my favorite,” Browan answered. “I never have any time to play, nor any one to play with. I guess a few times I have played it in real life though. Would you like me to show you? There is a board up here.”