by Emma Hamm
Beautiful wasn’t the word that Sigrid would use. Ostentatious, ridiculous, garish were just a few of the words she would choose to describe the train of Bymerians. They obviously wanted the Earthen folk to not only see them arrive but also understand that they considered themselves to be wealthier and far more beautiful.
Sigrid turned her gaze towards the forest instead. Emerald green leaves waved in a delicate breeze. Small rivers wound down from the mountains peaked with snow. Everything here was vibrant and still. It didn’t need gems or loud noises to make it beautiful. Instead, Wildewyn was how she was born to be. And she was lovelier for it.
“What do you think the Council members will say to him?” Camilla asked. “They must have some kind of expectation for such an unexpected visit.”
They would argue with him, most likely. Sigrid had seen them turn red in the face shouting at each other and fixing nothing. She wondered what would happen when two walls met each other, shouting until the other fell.
She arched a brow. “Why don’t we watch?”
Camilla spun on her heel, the long tail of her braid whipping around her. “What secrets have you been hiding?”
“Not hiding,” Sigrid twitched her skirts and turned back down the tight stairwell. “It's common knowledge if you look at the building plans of the castle.”
“Which are hidden in the depths of the library.”
“But not locked away.”
The billowing edge of her gown made it difficult to see the steps, but she had traversed these stairs many times. Sigrid could wander the castle with her eyes closed and she would still end up where she intended to go.
They casually strode past guards, nodding to the armored men who waited for the sultanate to step foot into their home.
Smoke fell from the ceiling where sconces had been lit, fragrance billowing down along with the white wisps. They had already filled the entire castle with sandalwood and lemongrass. She hoped the sweet scent was too cloying for the sultan and his men. Headaches would be the least of the curses she would like to fling upon them.
“Here,” she murmured, pausing in front of a tapestry.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Sigrid gave her sister a look. They knew how to hide their mischief from the guards. Camilla dropped to a knee, reaching forward and smoothing a hand down Sigrid’s skirt. “You should take better care of this, my lady. The fabric was a gift from the high councilman.”
“Quickly then, I’m feeling faint and would like to return to my room.”
The guard coughed, hiding his smile behind a hand as he passed them. Let him think they were weak. It was better for them all if the Earthen folk underestimated the beasts they had captured.
Sigrid waited until he rounded a corner before she brushed aside the tapestry. Camilla shoved her shoulder against the stone and the hidden door gave way without a sound. They rushed into the space between the walls, closing the door behind them and sealing themselves in darkness.
“The Earthen folk use this?” Camilla asked. “How could they see at all?”
“Torches, Camilla.”
“It would be fairly obvious if someone is walking around the castle with a torch in the middle of the day.”
Sigrid’s lips twitched into a smile behind her mask. “Then it’s a good thing we can see in the dark.”
She watched as Camilla’s gaze glowed green. A small sliver of light reflected from a hole in the wall, and her eyes turned molten before they moved on. Quietly, they made their way through the hidden tunnels of the castle until they could peer through the slats of an embellished partition inside the Councilman’s private chamber.
The sultan had not yet arrived with his entourage, but the Wildewyn council was there. They sat in a small circle, pouring over parchment paper laid out on the white marble table. Clean and effortlessly beautiful, the room had an open ceiling with green vines dangling into the room. Someone had swept fallen leaves into the corner, but she could still hear their feet crunching on a few that had blown towards the center.
“Jacques, I’ll remind you again. This could lead to our ruin,” one of the Council members said. “Once we make this decision, we cannot control what he will do.”
“It is an act of peace,” Jacques growled. "We must make sacrifices, and we cannot lose any more of our people to this tyrant’s whims.”
Hallmar, the King of Wildewyn, placed a stone on the corner of the map and sighed. “There will be no more arguments. I've made my decision.”
“Highness, I implore you—”
“Enough.” Exhaustion laced his words with defeat. “We have no other choice. He has too many spies in our lands, and this is our only option. If it doesn’t work, if she does not do her duty, then we will consider our other options.”
“And if he uses her to his advantage? We cannot defeat her if it comes to war.”
Sigrid’s spine stiffened.
“Sigrid would never fight against us. While she may be dangerous, she is also loyal. Wildewyn is her home. She would never betray us.”
“Are you certain of that? No one can predict the actions of an animal.”
When Hallmar did not respond, Sigrid let out a soft sigh. She should have known they wouldn’t trust her. They didn’t understand her, so how could they consider what she might think?
A warm hand surrounded hers, strong, familiar, and beloved. Camilla squeezed and interlocked their fingers. For all that the Earthen folk would never understand Beastkin, they would remain each other’s strongest supporters.
The door banged open and the entire sultanate poured into the Council Room. She couldn’t make out individuals in the flurry of color filling the room. Fabric twirled, hair intertwined with dark silk, and Sigrid’s mind whirled. It was too overwhelming for her to pick out individuals.
Except him.
The sultan stood in the center of the madness, calm as the eye of a storm. He strode towards Hallmar and did not stop until they stood face to face.
“High King,” the sultan began.
Sigrid shivered at the sound of his voice. It was powerful and deep. He was young, far younger than she thought he would be and though his face was free of lines, he might have appeared older if he’d somehow hidden his face.
“Your Majesty.” The entire council bowed as Hallmar replied, “We welcome you to our city.”
“Not much of a welcome. I see few of your people in the streets. Have you lost them?”
The sultanate chuckled behind their leader, and Sigrid saw red. He thought it wise to enter another kingdom and then mock the king? What kind of madman was this?
Hallmar, to his credit, laughed with the others. “No, Your Majesty. It’s likely they are preparing for the feast tonight. But we have much to discuss beforehand.”
“Ah, yes. Your treaty.” The sultan shook his head. “I have little interest in this. What could you possibly offer me?”
“Peace.”
“I don’t need peace, Earthen king. I already have you under my thumb. All I have to do is press down.”
“I believe you’ve heard of the creatures we keep under lock and key?” Hallmar continued as if the sultan had not spoken. “Perhaps, your man claimed they were animals wearing the skins of women?”
“Myths and legends.”
“Truth, and I am willing to offer you our most precious Beastkin woman. She is unlike any of the others. A rare treasure.”
The sultan scoffed and held his hand out to the side. One of his people rushed forward and placed a small knife in the center of his palm. He used the blade to clean underneath his nails. The very picture of calm.
“On the off chance I even believe you, what kind of creature would this woman be? A lioness?” Again, his entourage laughed. “I’ll place her in the cages with all my other beautiful animals. I have no desire for more pretty things. I have plenty.”
“Our own people don’t know what her true nature is. We have hidden her for years, and now I willingly offer her to you.” Hallmar paus
ed dramatically. “She is a dragon.”
Sigrid flinched. A part of her had hoped he would come to his senses, or choose one of her other sisters. It was a cruel thought. She had never desired to hurt another of her sister’s before, and certainly this was a fate worse than death.
But they were speaking of her. Wildewyn offered their most powerful asset to their enemy, freely and without stipulation. They offered her to the man who had ordered the death of her intended husband and countless others.
Her icy eyes caught on the sultan’s shoulders which had stiffened. His eyes narrowed on the king. “A dragon? Even when the Beastkin roamed these lands, there was no such thing as a dragon shifter.”
“She is the last of her kind, and infinitely precious.”
“Show me.”
His eyes were yellow, she realized, and ringed with kohl. Tiger’s eye agates set in a face burnished from the sun. He was handsome, in an aggressive way, but she could never see him as anything other than a tyrant who laid waste to all that was beautiful.
Hallmar coughed. “Show you? It’s obvious why we cannot do such a thing, she—”
“Show me,” the sultan repeated, his words stronger as his voice whipping across the room. “I know well how the Earthen folk lie, and I will see this Beastkin before I decide to have her at my side.”
“There are stipulations.”
“You misunderstand me.” The sultan stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Hallmar, neither man backing down. “I have my sword at your throat, belly, and groin, Earthen King. You may test me if you wish, but I can destroy you with a wave of my hand.”
“And she can destroy you. I will not give you our greatest weapon without a few assurances.”
A prestigious looking man with silver hair stepped forward and placed his hand on the sultan’s arm. “Your Majesty, perhaps we could convene without the Wildewyn council. This is a matter of great importance to all of Bymere. Your advisors have much to say.”
She watched the sultan let himself be pulled away and wondered at the boy king who couldn’t make his own decisions. Did he rely on his advisors for everything? This wasn’t a monarchy; this was puppetry.
Hallmar seemed to come to the same conclusion as Sigrid. She recognized the calculating expression on his face as he watched the sultanate envelope their leader. They poured from the room like water from a tipped vase, even their steps echoing at the same time until Hallmar called out, “Sultan!”
One man in the rush of bodies slowed.
“There will always be a time when a sultan, king, or emperor needs to decide without the advice of others. A king chooses. A slave waits for orders.”
Sigrid felt the power coursing through the king’s words. They echoed through the room until it vibrated with the audacity that a royal would so blatantly observe that the boy king was not a king at all.
Slowly, Camilla pulled her hand away from Sigrid and reached for the edges of her mask. Sigrid quickly followed, wondering what would happen if she transformed within the walls. The dragon could shatter stone, even rend this building to the ground if it wished. But was that what she wanted? Was now the time to reveal her true nature?
The sultan looked over his shoulder, yellow eyes surveying the Earthen king. “What are your requests?”
“Marry her. Make her your queen and unite the kingdoms.”
“I have a wife.”
“Your people have never remained monogamous. A second wife is still a queen. Make her a royal to your people, shelter her, give her a good life, and consider the kingdoms united in every way.”
The sultan’s brow lifted. “You’re asking much for a country with few options. I could start the war right now and end it all.”
“We both know that’s a bluff. With a dragon in our army, there is little your men could do. Or have you forgotten the assassination attempt you recently tried? Those were our Beastkin warriors, and there are more than just the few in that crowd. Take the offer and save many from certain death.”
“Sultan,” the silver haired man called again. “Let us speak.”
Sigrid saw the exact moment the young sultan decided. His shoulders straightened, his yellow gaze heated to orange embers, and he nodded. “It is done. Write up your documents, Earthen king. I’ll marry your dragon woman, but I will meet her tonight.”
“You’ll marry her tonight.”
“So be it.”
They swept from the room, the entire sultanate filtered out of the Council Room as if they hadn’t just decided her future. The last bright color disappeared out of the pristine white room like the last drop of blood draining from a wound.
Silence reigned in the Council Room. Sigrid held her breath in fear they would hear her ragged gasps.
“Gods forgive us,” Hallmar said. “We have sacrificed our greatest treasure to a child.”
“You take a grievous risk.”
“I believe there must be a man underneath that childlike demeanor.” He pressed his fist against the table, staring down at the map. “Bring me the girl.”
“Is that wise? Perhaps we should tell her outside the castle.”
“Sigrid has always remained poised no matter what we have thrown at her. I would like to tell her in person.”
“What will you tell her?”
She watched the king with rapt attention, her eyes locked on his form. Hallmar’s head lifted, and he stared directly at her through the slats in the wall.
“She will be our greatest weapon in this war. And make no mistake, we are at war with Bymere.”
Sigrid had been a sword hanging in a closet for so many years that the thought of active warfare made her shiver.
Did he want her to kill the sultan, or worse?
Nadir
“What do you think you’re doing?” Abdul hissed, his footsteps echoing in the cold stone halls. “That was a decision we should have made together. They could plant a spy in our home. They are planting a spy. Why else would they offer her up so easily? Do you ever think at all?”
Nadir let the words wash over him. His advisors could shout as much as they wanted, but his gut knew this was the right decision.
The King’s words unsettled him. A slave waits for advice? When had he ever faltered before deciding?
Besides, this was the better deal. A war would affect them all, and though Nadir had no intention of retracting his spies or failing to replace Wildewyn’s head officials with those he trusted, now he also had their most powerful weapon in his own home.
“Are you listening, boy?”
Nadir whirled, hand on his hip where a jeweled blade rested. “Are you questioning my decision, advisor?”
“Absolutely.”
“And who gave you the right to question your sultan? Royal blood runs in my veins. Tell me again, Abdul, from where do you hail?”
The entirety of his entourage hesitated, glancing at each other in unease. His blood heated, his vision blurred, and all he could focus on was that Abdul was trying to control him. Coerce him. Again.
When his advisor did not respond, Nadir growled, “From where do you hail?”
“Misthall.”
“Where in Misthall?”
“The plains of Whitehaven.”
“And what do they do in Whitehaven?”
A muscle in Abdul’s jaw ticked. “They are farmers, Your Majesty.”
“Remember that.” Nadir could feel the tentative hold on his temper slipping. “Remember that you came from nothing, and that it was my family who gave you every shred of power you hold. I can take it away just as easily as they gifted it.”
He thought for a moment that Abdul might strike him. Nadir almost wished he would. This advisor had walked a fine line since the beginning. All he needed was a reason to have him killed, and he would relish the moment Abdul’s head struck the ground.
A gentle hand settled on his forearm, stretched forward from layers of silken fabric. “Husband. Shall we retire for the night?”
Saa
fiya, with her endless well of patience. She always knew how to calm him, but he didn’t want to let go of his anger. Not this time. There was something to prove here although he knew not what.
She smoothed her hand down his arm again, and he swallowed. It wouldn’t hurt to go with her. He could relax, lose himself in her body, think about what he had agreed to do. And if she had other ideas, then he would listen. They were older, had all been advisors of his kingdom for a very long time, and knew more than he did.
She would know what to do.
“Your Majesty?”
He glanced down the hall towards the tall guard dressed in silver armor. “What is it?”
“King Hallmar has requested you join him in the great hall where he will introduce you to your new bride. The Beastkin have prepared themselves for your arrival.”
Saafiya’s hand clenched hard around his forearm.
So, his wife was jealous of the new addition to their home. Nadir forced himself not to roll his eyes. Saafiya cared little for him. There was no question about that. Her position as sole sultana of their people would now change, and that was the only reason she bristled.
She had his ear, and she knew that. He wouldn’t be surprised if another woman walking into their life and disrupting such control made her skin crawl.
It should. He fully intended to spend too much time pulling apart this little “dragon” and seeing what she could do. If the Earthen King was telling the truth, then there was much he had to learn.
He reached down and peeled Saafiya’s hand from his forearm.
“I hadn’t expected your king to react so quickly to my request,” he replied to the guard.
“The Beastkin are always at the king’s beck and call. If you wish to see them, then they will come.”
“I like the sound of that. Lead on.”
He ignored the grumbles of his retinue. The journey from Bymere to Wildewyn was long and tiresome. Their backs ached, and they wished to rest in whatever luxuries the Wildewyn city could offer them.
Nadir understood their complaints. He felt the same way, but there were things a sultan must do before he found his bed.
He led his people through the halls, following the guard with a wary gaze. This castle was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The corridors were filled with splendor, yet felt as though they had been abandoned with leaves fluttering in through the windows and twigs littering the floor.