by Katy Haye
Dragon Thief (Princess Witch #1) © Katy Haye 2018
Cover design © Katzilla Designs
The right of Katy Haye to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and should not be resold or given away to other people.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events depicted in this novel are fictitious and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.katyhaye.com
More by Katy Haye
The Princess Witch series (fantasy)
Dragon Thief
Dragon Flight
Dragon Fury
Dragon Prize
The Four Kings series (fantasy)
Awakened by Magic
Inspired by Magic
Shattered by Magic
Drenched by Magic
Ignited by Magic
Courted by Magic
A Clockwork War series (steampunk)
The Clockwork War
An Airship from Ashes
The Tinker Queen
The Immortality Device
The Crown of Fane duology (fantasy)
The Last Gatekeeper
The Last Dreamseer
Standalone (post-apocalyptic)
Rising Tides
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Contents
1 – Dressed up like the Winter Maiden
2 – I know we could have Fun
Lyo – Not a Performing Monkey
3 – A Thief with Magic
4 – The Princess couldn’t just Vanish
Lyo – A Palace Servant with a Secret
5 – Loiter with a Stolen Dragonette
6 – What are you Carrying?
Lyo – Over by Dawn
7 – Just Play Along
8 – Crawling with Guards
Lyo – You can’t Trust a Muirlander
9 – Meeting a Boy was Purely Coincidental
10 – A Princess mustn’t be Faint-hearted
Lyo – Always Happy to Help
11 – You have an House to Get Ready
12 – My Magic Didn’t Like It
Lyo – The Scent of Magic
13 – A Confession
14 – Out of Place
Lyo – A Twist in Complexity
15 – A Kiss will Do It
16 – I Can’t Win
Lyo – Spoiling for a Fight
17 – Languishing in the Cells
18 – A Big Change
Lyo - Confinement
19 – Claws Extended
20 – How Much for a Cat Skin?
Lyo – Another Engagement
21 – I’d Finally had Enough of Fear
22 – A Pretty New Wife
Lyo – Take the Dragonette and Run
23 – The King will Deal with Her
24 – You Found Her
Lyo – Worth any Price
Acknowledgements
1 – Dressed up like the Winter Maiden
“You look beautiful, Princess Jurelle.” Mae, one of the palace maids, smiled at me in the mirror, pleased with her handiwork.
“Stunning,” the second maid agreed.
“Thank you, you’ve done good work.” My smile was less bright than theirs. I had nothing against their efforts, but it wasn’t difficult to make a healthy seventeen-year-old young woman look pretty when the riches of a kingdom were at your disposal.
I was more concerned about why my father had instructed I be dressed up like The Winter Maiden, beautified ready for sacrifice, glistening with silk and weighed down with jewels. Up until today he’d ignored me for months, a state of affairs that suited me perfectly. I had been content to wait and take up a life dedicated to charity on my eighteenth birthday, three months away, my freedom from court life a glowing beacon on the horizon. My lurching heart feared what my mind wasn’t prepared to accept: that beacon might be about to be snuffed out.
I turned as the door slammed open to admit my brother, Prince Jaran. “Hey, sis.” He stood looking me up and down and gave a slow whistle. “Perfect.”
Heat burned my cheeks. “Hardly.” Jaran was the heir; Father might have taken him into his confidence. “Has he – has he changed his mind?”
“About you joining the Daughters of Compassion? No idea, sorry, sis.” He crossed the room to my side. “Are you really sure you want to join those dried-up old crones and run around after widows and orphans all day? A good marriage would give you more power.”
“Very sure. I never wanted power, Jaran. I’ll leave that to you.” A dull weight settled in my stomach. My desire not to be the possession of a man was inexplicable to all men – and a great many women. It was certainly incomprehensible to my father. Who could change his mind on a whim…
Jaran’s fingers tilted my chin up so I had to face him. “You look like a frightened rabbit. That won’t do you any good.”
I straightened my shoulders and glared at him.
“That’s better.” He tugged me towards the door, cupping my elbow. “Come along. Father’s waiting.”
My fate couldn’t be avoided, so I might as well face it straight on.
~
“Her Highness, the Princess Jurelle!” The steward’s voice lifted high to the ceiling. The crowd hushed, turning expectantly to the doorway. “And his Grand Highness, Crown Prince Jaran!”
My brother’s hand tightened on my elbow and we stepped inside the royal reception chamber. Beneath my ornate, too-tight gown, my heart beat fast. The whole court was assembled to hear the announcement. Father must have changed his mind. The freedom that had been nearly within reach was about to be snatched away.
Matching Jaran’s steady pace, I walked onwards. My eyes skimmed the assembled crowd, my thoughts scrambling to remember enough court gossip to find likely candidates if Father was selling me into marriage.
There was Lord Venner, Overseer of the Northern Quadrant. He had lost his third wife in childbirth two months ago and needed a mother for the infant. My mouth dried. He was also nearly my father’s age and smelled like a wild hog from a distance of five paces.
Lord Gollan was unmarried and in his twenties. He was handsome enough to have the women of the court gossip over him enviously, but he had a streak of cruelty a mile wide. He’d beaten a stableboy half to death for carelessness in preparing his horse, because the stirrups were uneven and he’d looked a fool when he’d mounted, one knee sticking high in the air.
I suppressed a shiver.
Mage Redmor was also unmarried. As chief mage he was one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, second only to my father. But he would be the worst of the three.
My gaze shifted to my mother and father, standing in the middle of the room on a low dais so they could be seen by all. The walls of the room had been festooned with yellow silk, the colour of celebration and joy. Dread solidified into a cold lump in my stomach, although I allowed nothing to show. A princess never revealed her feelings.
When we reached the dais, we stopped. Jaran let go of my arm and I gathered my skirts, curtsying low while Jaran bowed.
“Jurelle. Daughter. We bid you welcome.” My father held out his hand with a genial smile. I wasn’t fooled. His affection was purely for show.
I obeyed the summons in his gesture and trod up the steps, giving another curtsy when I faced him. Jaran took his place beside our mother.
Father, King Haran of Muirland, took my
hand to lift me from my obeisance, turning me to face the crowd. “Lords and Ladies, I present your princess, Jurelle, jewel of our court.”
The crowd cheered. Then silenced at a gesture from my father.
“Today is a happy day, both for Muirland and for my family. A match has been agreed that does honour to the Princess Jurelle. Next month she will travel to Surran and become the wife of King Zalar.”
Buzzing filled my ears. Court gossip had plenty to say about King Zalar, and none of it was flattering. Our neighbour. And a butcher. I wanted to scream that I wouldn’t do it. That was a sacrifice too far.
A gasp of horror rang out in the silent room. I went cold, thinking the sound had come from me. But my self-discipline had not slipped.
Father’s brows drew together, his expression darkening. His gaze snapped up, searching for the source of the sound of dissent.
“You do me great honour, Sire,” I said, dropping into another curtsy, looking straight at him with a smile that hurt my face, my heart aching.
My distraction had no effect. Father silenced me with a slash of his hand, stepping to the edge of the dais. “Someone disagrees with my choice of husband for my daughter. Please, step forward and we’ll discuss the matter.”
Silence fell. Outside, the sun shifted from behind clouds and poured through the windows, turning the room golden-yellow, as though we stood inside the sun itself. I began to sweat inside my dress. I wanted to say or do something to drive us past this horrible moment, but Father was in charge.
“Please. I insist.” My father’s cold tone didn’t change. A cough broke the silence.
It was dangerous to counter my father, especially in public. No one was mad enough to step forward. But everyone wanted to free themselves from suspicion. A disturbance on one side of the room signalled movement, the crowd stepping carefully away to leave a single figure isolated. It was a girl, not much older than myself, dressed in a maid’s livery. I closed my eyes in despair. A lord or lady could possibly have made an excuse and been forgiven. A servant had no chance.
I opened my eyes in time to see Father’s lips curve into a cruel smile. “Step forward, girl.”
In the absolute silence, the scuff of her feet against the marble floor was loud as she obeyed. I was surprised she was capable of the movement. Even from a distance I could see how badly she was shaking.
Isolated between the crowd and the dais, the maid sank into a low curtsy, eyes on the floor.
“You have a comment on the match arranged for the princess?” Father asked. His tone was light, but his eyes glittered with fury.
Her voice was so low it was barely audible, but I admired her for finding the courage to speak at all. “No, Sire, I – I merely coughed.”
Father’s hands twitched, curling to fists before he released them. “Come now, lies are unbecoming at a time such as this. If you have wise counsel, perhaps I will make you one of my advisors.”
It was a joke, or the closest my father ever got to one. No one in the room laughed. The tension was a solid thing, a beast with indrawn breath, waiting for my father to strike.
“I was surprised, that is all.”
My heart leapt. She might manage a recovery. If she claimed to be awed by the match made for me, Father might accept her excuse and dismiss her.
“Surprised?” Father’s tone required an explanation.
She continued, “You hear such fearful stories about King Zalar.”
A sigh rent the air. I wasn’t the only person who knew she’d just damned herself. She gave a blink, staring fearfully around.
“Stories?” Father asked. “What stories have you heard?”
I stared straight ahead. The yellow fabric on the wall opposite rippled as though someone had pressed against it. I wasn’t the only one who wanted to escape.
“Well, about his children…”
I wished he would get it over with. Everyone in the room was aware of the rumours about King Zalar. His wife had died suddenly and suspiciously. And that wasn’t the only story told about him. He’d exiled his eldest son – a fact – and then his younger children had vanished, followed quickly by whispers that he’d killed them both. Law and order had been replaced by chaos, and refugees from Surran flooded our ports and our borders, citizens desperate to escape unrest and its brutal put-down.
I returned to the present in time to hear Father’s words. “And you think I would marry my daughter to such a monster?”
“Oh no, Sire, of course not.” Her tone was surprised enough to suggest she actually believed what she was saying. I had no illusions that my father wouldn’t sell me off in pieces if it advantaged him in some way.
“Good, good.” He turned away. Was that it? No punishment? No revenge for disturbing his announcement? My shoulders sagged. He turned back to the assembled court. “I am glad to know that I have the confidence of my people.” He nodded to the guard positioned at the corner of the dais. “Please ensure she remembers her place.” The guard stepped forward. “Her arm, I think,” Father added.
I wanted to be sick. The maid blinked in surprise, not understanding what was coming. The guard took her arm. I think she thought he intended to help her back into the crowd. Instead, he gripped her forearm at her elbow and wrist, and brought it down as he jerked his knee up.
The sickening crack of snapped bones was eclipsed by her scream of agony.
I stared at the floor, breathing rapidly through my mouth, willing myself to give no reaction.
“Now, we feast to celebrate His Majesty’s great news!” The steward’s voice rang out over the maid’s sobs.
The gathered lords and ladies edged out towards the dining hall. They made no sound but footsteps and the rustle of clothes. With such a lesson so recent, they would wait for privacy before discussing the day’s announcement.
“Jurelle?”
I turned to find the queen’s gaze on me. “Yes, Mother?”
“I trust your thoughts have not been polluted by silly stories about our neighbour.”
“Of course not, Mother.”
“Good.” She grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. “This alliance is important. If we work together, we can defeat the fae, but we need Surran’s forces.”
“I know my duty, Mother.”
She watched me, her gaze dredging my face. Whatever she found there satisfied her. “Good.” She let me go, patting my cheek gently. “You’re a good girl.”
Loathing twisted my stomach. I was a good girl because I lacked the courage to be anything else. My stomach flipped over. What if King Zalar really was a murderer? I gave myself the answer I knew Mother would give if I’d asked her: then I had better give him no call to be dissatisfied with me.
“Come along, child, you’re the star of the feast.”
Nearly at the door, I glanced back. The room was almost empty, but for a couple of guards and the injured maid. One of her friends had joined her, an arm around her shoulders as she was led away, her wrecked arm cradled to her stomach. I hoped she’d make a full recovery. She’d lose her job if she couldn’t work, while Father wouldn’t even remember her face.
The Surran king might be a monster, but it wasn’t as though monsters were unknown to me.
2 – I know we could have fun
The dining hall was raucous with noise when I entered. All attention turned to me, the volume of chatter lowering. My cheeks heated. I wondered who was envious and who pitied me. I wished I didn’t have to suffer either response from the lords and ladies of court. All I’d ever wanted was to be left alone.
The middle of the room was empty. I had to walk through it to reach the place set for me at the far end beside my father. As I passed, the members of the court murmured congratulations. I turned to each and smiled, nodding my thanks, although their faces blurred. I was relieved to take a seat, even if that now meant Father was watching every move as the servants brought the dishes and I tried to force the meal down my dry throat.
I was grateful
when the entertainment began. Surranese dancers entered the room, along with a young woman who might have been from Nordin, to sing and play a lap harp.
The pale musician began a song while the dancers moved gracefully. My father’s attention shifted from me to the singer. She was beautiful, Nordin-pale with blue eyes and golden hair. Father’s fingers tightened around the stem of his goblet as he threw the last of his wine into his mouth and gestured for more. I hoped the steward had made clear to her that the entertainment she was expected to provide might include more than simply music. I was sure my father was already picturing her bright hair across his pillow and her pale arms around his body.
I focused on the dancers, who wove elegantly between each other as the music filled the room.
“This is boring,” someone muttered a few places down the table. “He might have employed a few tumblers.” Either he’d drunk enough to be incautious, or he’d noted that the king’s attention was riveted on the singer.
“Have you seen the Black Diamond Troupe perform?” his companion asked.
He scoffed. “Who hasn’t?”
I hadn’t, for one. I’d love to see Surranese tumblers, but Father didn’t like acrobatics. He described them as hectic and inelegant.
“It’s their final performance tonight,” the companion confided. “They’re at the Three Tuns in the city.” Her gaze darted to the king and back. Beside him, I kept my eyes on my plate. “We’ve given our congratulations, we could sneak out and see them. Last chance before they take their show to Nordin.”
The lord huffed. “In a public inn? I think you forget my position.”
She backtracked immediately. “Oh, I was joking, my lord. We couldn’t possibly sit amongst a common throng.”
My thoughts whirled as an idea nudged at the edge of my mind. Hatred burned hot in my chest. I wanted revenge on my father for selling me to a murderer. And if I was brave enough, the lord and lady further down the table had just given me a focus for my vengeance. A plan unfolded gloriously in my mind. My pulse picked up. I needed daring. I swallowed. Could I defy my father?