The Dragon Princess

by Paris Hansch

  Anton pulled on his sword, making a slight metallic rasping sound.

  The girl immediately shifted her weight toward Anton, and Alexander put his hand out to stop him. Her eyes, an unnatural violet, darted left and right, her pupils narrowed into slits.

  Their sister barreled into the room, almost running into them. “I heard she was awake—”

  “Leave at once,” Alexander hissed at her. She was always around at the most inconvenient times, as if she had nothing else to do.

  Adelia completely ignored him, walking up to the crouched girl and holding out her hand.

  As the woman reached out, Alexander felt a strange sensation wash through him. He hadn’t realized how thick and dominating the atmosphere was until something calm began cutting through the noise. For a moment, there was an extraordinary presence in the room, terrifyingly vast and all-encompassing, yet somehow familiar and warm. Then, it was gone.

  The girl dropped the shard, and Adelia gathered her into an embrace. Alexander crept over, subtly kicking the glass out of arm’s reach as he knelt down. The girl’s eyes focused on him, the violet fading to an inky black.

  “What’s your name?” he murmured.

  She blinked, frowning. “I don’t remember… I think it’s Mina.”

  Chapter Five

  Anton

  Present day — Year 2161 of the Fey Dynasty

  Anton twiddled his thumbs as he sat between two councilors on one side of a long table. Of course, the left- and right-hand seat beside his brother’s empty seat was reserved for Councilor Dallan and General Barrett—another subtle hint of his lack of importance. Anton suppressed a yawn. It’d been two days since his brother had received the war declaration, and apparently, now was the appropriate time to tell the rest of the council and their people. What had he been waiting for?

  He glanced along the table of high-ranking army members, merchants and noblemen. There were several faces he recognized as the heads of noble families, their crest banners lined up in all of their glory on the wall. It was meant to be a display of power, a unified front, but it felt more like a display of idiots. The only real power they had was the power that Alexander gave them, and they did nothing useful with it.

  Alexander finally arrived, fully clothed in his most formal robes. White and ash gray, just like everything else in this castle. Whoever chose Anadrieth’s colors must have been color-blind. He rubbed his left eye. Not that he cared, but it was incredibly bland compared to the vibrant reds and blues of the other regions.

  His brother sat in a large, ornate chair at the head of the table, which was unnecessarily decorated with jewels. The great hall was meant to be the finest reception room in the castle, but it just seemed like they were trying too hard to be formal; the stiff elegance wasn’t welcoming at all. But he noticed that one of the chandeliers was missing. Probably compliments of that servant girl.

  Anton’s eyes widened. Speak of her, and she appears. Accompanied by his sister, the two of them walked into the great hall together and stood by the table. The girl was dressed up, but he didn’t want to pay her any heed. Instead, he leaned forward to get a better look at his little sister. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, but he could still see the girl she had once been in her face. He could almost feel her tugging on his sleeve and dragging him out to play. He shook his head. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her around the castle; it was just that she avoided him. As in, ran-in-the-opposite-direction avoided him.

  And rightly so.

  The men at the table had various expressions plastered on their faces at the women’s sudden appearance, and none of them were particularly pleased. They stared at them and muttered amongst themselves.

  “What are they doing here?”

  “Don’t they know this is an important meeting?”

  His sister had assumed the placid face of a lady, but he could tell that she was clearly uncomfortable with all of the attention. The councilor beside him turned his nose up at the girls.

  “Is there something you need?” he said, flecks of spit flying from his lips.

  Alexander gave him a stern look. “They were invited.” Then, he swept out his hands, projecting his voice across the room. “Welcome, my friends and honored councilmen. I’ve called this meeting to discuss the future of Anadrieth, in full detail. My councilors and I have been working hard behind the scenes in order to brighten the unfortunate news I must bring you today.” He showed them the declaration. “Lanadrin has declared war.”

  The table immediately went into an uproar.

  “We don’t stand a chance against those barbarians.”

  “Their allies are even worse. I’ve heard Calverans are half-giants.”

  “There’s no such thing—”

  “Can we offer them our gold and jewels?”

  “My wife just had a baby—”

  Anton shrank back as the noise continued to escalate. Every meeting always went this way, like the men were too self-absorbed to listen to their lord. He glanced at his sister, who was looking off into the distance. He could practically hear the wheels whirring in her head, as her mind was probably scanning every book she’d ever read for ideas. The servant girl, however, was impassive. Of course, she was; his brother had already told her everything.

  “We cannot simply surrender!” one cried, banging his fist on the table.

  “This is the empire’s fault. The prince should be keeping them under control.”

  “We haven’t had a true imperial couple for over a decade. It’s not his fault he’s not of imperial blood.”

  “Then, it’s the missing princess’ fault.”

  “We have to appeal to him!”

  “Dragons, help us—”

  Alexander stood, and the room slowly quieted. “Don’t be alarmed. I would never give up on my people, which is why I have been working on a solution. Although Councilor Dallan could not be here with us today, his brilliant idea has borne fruit.” He held up a document bearing the Elorian seal, a mighty sea serpent. “The esteemed Lord Reinhardt of Eloria has agreed to forge an alliance with us,” he held his hand out toward Adelia, “for my little sister’s hand in marriage.”

  What? Anton immediately searched his sister’s face. Her composure broke, then, and her mouth hung open. Even the girl actually seemed surprised. They didn’t know. He gritted his teeth, and his heart pounded louder in his chest. She didn’t know. Alexander never asked her. Of course, he didn’t. Of course, he would make that kind of decision without telling anyone who cared—anyone who mattered. Hadn’t he seen what that kind of marriage did to their parents? What it did to Adelia? Of course, he didn’t. Alexander never saw anything like that. He clenched his fists, willing his blood to stop boiling. It wasn’t his business anymore. Adelia wouldn’t want it to be his business.

  Several men cheered, and the suggestion of ale circulated the room as they all congratulated each other.

  “Our alliance would make them think twice about waging war upon us.”

  “Perhaps this calls for an early celebration!”

  “I knew our lord wouldn’t be without a plan.”

  “Cheers!”

  “Eloria is a powerful ally, indeed.”

  They were so quick to change their attitude. Adelia was glaring at Alexander, fiddling with her left hand. She was about to cry. Anton shook his head. His brother was nodding and looking pleased with himself, an unfortunate side effect of his ignorant arrogance. He didn’t even look at their sister; he was too busy evaluating the men’s reactions. Adelia took a few steps backward and ran off, rubbing her face with a sleeve. Anton gripped the chair, forcing himself to stay seated. She wouldn’t want him to come. There was nothing he could say, anyway.

  Suddenly, the room died down. An overwhelming sensation filled his chest, almost like someone else was taking up residence there—a chilling presence. Everyone was staring where his sister had been, but all that remained was that girl, still standing there. Her eyes were like arrows, l
ocked onto their targets without mercy, like a hunter stalking its prey. If he didn’t know any better, he would have been scared. The girl turned her gaze toward Alexander.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” she said in a low voice. “You should have asked her.”

  Alexander hesitated. He seemed like he didn’t know what was going on.

  General Barrett stood up, walking around to stand directly in front of her. “Servants should be seen and not heard.” Although he towered over the girl and spoke in a threatening tone, he was, strangely, not as menacing as she was. Anton shook himself. What in dragon’s name was he thinking? That girl was trouble and probably a threat, but she wasn’t terrifying. He put his hands on his slightly trembling knees. He wasn’t going to give her the credit, at least.

  The girl didn’t back down. “Or perhaps everyone has the right to speak.”

  Alexander quickly inserted himself between them. “This isn’t the time.”

  “I believe it is,” said General Barrett. “With all due respect, my lord, this isn’t the first time she’s been too outspoken, and now she’s questioning your decisions in public.” He turned to the council. “For the sake of maintaining our lord’s focus during these trying times, I insist that this servant girl accompany Lady Adelia to Eloria.” Even Anton found himself nodding at that. As the men murmured their agreement, General Barrett turned back to Alexander.

  His brother’s face was blank, and he almost felt sorry for him. Not that he cared about the girl, but the pressure his brother was facing right now must be intense. Alexander gave the slightest nod. He was giving into them again.

  General Barrett smiled. “Run along, then, after your mistress.”

  The girl gave Alexander one last look of disappointment before turning on her heel. When she reached the door, she began sprinting, presumably after his sister. The general and his brother sat down again, and the meeting continued as planned. Anton sunk back into his chair. The air had relaxed, and he could just about breathe through the remaining tension. He tried to pay attention to all of the meticulous planning details—apparently, they would still hold the festival tomorrow, regardless of the impending war—but his mind continued to drift.

  The girls would leave at once after the festival to Eloria, and his sister would be gone. Perhaps they would see each other again at certain social occasions, but it was unlikely. The regions rarely visited each other, made evident by the presence of border patrols in an empire that was supposed to be at peace. He wouldn’t have a reason to see her, either. Not that she would want to. At the very least, that girl would be gone, and soon, she would be Eloria’s problem.

  Anton sighed. The girl wasn’t wrong, though. His brother should have asked their sister, or at least warned her in advance. Out of the three of them, Adelia was the clever one. She could have come up with a multitude of solutions, perhaps even talked Lord Tamar out of war altogether.

  Their places should have been reversed. She would have been far more useful here, and Anton should have been cast off to Eloria, instead. He wasn’t tactically minded, diplomatic or even a great soldier. There was nothing he could offer his brother, even if Alexander let him. Unfortunately, it would be rather impossible to switch places.

  As the council convened, the men lingered around to talk amongst themselves. Anton sat up. Was it over already? Perhaps he could get a word in with his brother now. He waited through several conversations, until Alexander was finally free, before he approached him. His brother was visibly exhausted, and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he still managed to give him a big grin and a pat on the shoulder.

  “Ah, Brother, what can I do for you?”

  Anton shifted out from under his hand. Now that he actually had his brother’s attention, he wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t debate the tax issue on flour or discuss the best techniques against a larger opponent. He didn’t even know how to pretend to talk like everyone else did when they wanted to act social for the sake of it. Perhaps he should just say what was on his mind.

  “Why did you do it?”

  Alexander was taken aback, and Anton internally grimaced. It wasn’t the worst thing to come out of his mouth, but it certainly wasn’t the best, either.

  His brother’s smile dampened. “You, too?” Alexander ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. This is the best solution for Anadrieth.”

  Anton didn’t meet his eyes. “What, sacrificing our little sister?”

  Alexander frowned. “It’s better than her getting caught in a war, or worse, captured by the Lanadese. You speak like she’s sentenced to die, but she’s certain to love Eloria and, perhaps one day, Lord Reinhardt.”

  “You don’t know that at all,” snapped Anton, struggling to keep his voice calm. “Our parents were forced together, and you know it. Adelia got the worst of it, while you were the golden child. You haven’t even met Lord Reinhardt—what if he’s just as bad as Lord Tamar?”

  “That’s enough,” Alexander hissed.

  General Barrett appeared beside Alexander, scowling at Anton. “My lord, I believe it would be best for you to have some well-deserved rest. We can handle things for now.”

  Alexander nodded. “Indeed, I’ll be taking my leave now.” He glanced back at Anton. “We’ll talk later.”

  As soon as his brother was out of earshot, General Barrett turned on him. “You’ll do well not to disgrace Lord Alexander in public like that uncouth servant girl. You may be the second son, but if he falls, we won’t be looking to you to lead us.” He stalked away without another word.

  Anton clenched his fists, exiting the great hall as fast as he could without running. He kept his head down as he weaved through the castle. He knew the way blindfolded. Barrett was right. He should have picked a more appropriate time, or even had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

  He couldn’t deny that a marriage alliance was a smart move—probably their only one. Anton shoved his hands in his pockets. But he couldn’t help himself. Better still, he should have grown up to be more like Alexander, the leader everyone looked to for guidance and strength. He was just the impulsive, useless little brother.

  He could hear Ban calling out to him in the distance, but Anton ignored him, jogging outside through the snow. If he were more like Alexander, he would have been one half of a powerful team instead of an embarrassment. If he were more like Alexander, he would have been respected. If he were more like Alexander, he would have been able to put aside his feelings and make tough choices in order to protect them all.

  Anton all but collapsed in the little clearing. He wrapped his arms around the tombstone, pressing his face against the ice-cold rock.

  “Mama… I wish you were here,” he whispered.

  She didn’t skip a beat, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

  I am, my darling.

  Chapter Six

  Adelia

  Adelia sprinted from the castle, ignoring that her hair was getting tangled into knots and her dress was dragging in the snow. She panted with each heavy step she took. She couldn’t believe what her brother had just done. Even worse, he was just listening to that idiotic councilor. Alexander had every opportunity to ask her, to talk to her, to tell her what was going on. She could feel his hand patting her on the head and talking to her like she was still a child.

  I’ll take it into consideration.

  Adelia let out a frustrated cry. A proper lady shouldn’t get angry, but she didn’t care. How could her own brother trade her away to a man he’d never met to save people he’d never met in order to stop a war declared by another man he’d never met? It was ridiculous. She wasn’t exactly allowed to leave Anadrieth, but Alexander had no excuse. The regions remained entirely separate entities from each other, even though they all belonged to one empire. But forget the customs. He should have said dragons to the social rules and just gone to Lord Tamar to solve the problems in person.

  The soldiers were training in the grounds, as usual,
and Adelia gritted her teeth as she ran the long way to the castle wall. She needed some air, to get away from the castle for once, dragons to whoever wanted to stop her. At the very least, it felt good to run, even though her lungs were bursting. Proper ladies never ran, but dragons to being a proper lady.

  And then, there was the fact that her brother knew full well what it was like when two people were forced together. Dragons, it was the whole reason that he was pushing his council so hard for the right to court Mina.

  Adelia leaned against the wall as the world spun around her. Her stomach heaved, but she clamped her mouth shut, willing the bile back down. Perhaps Alexander hadn’t paid attention to their parent’s marriage, even back then. Knowing him now, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

  “Are you all right, Milady?” asked a patrolling guard. “Would you like me to escort you back?”

  Adelia waved a hand, shaking her head. “I’m fine. I’m going out, just return to your duties.” It wasn’t his fault, but it would be nice if they didn’t treat her like she was about to break. She had two working arms and legs like everyone else. She was just a bit out of breath, was all. As the guard walked off, she stared up at the castle, and her heartbeat began to slow. The structure was like an ominous gray shadow, the design functional but not appealing in the slightest. If anything, it resembled a prison.

  A figure sprinted out from the way she came in a blur of purple, dashing straight through the training grounds toward her. She squinted, but even at that speed, she could recognize her friend. The men dove left and right to avoid Mina as she expertly weaved and ducked her way through the crowd, tucking her shoulder to roll beneath the dueling blades. Wood splintered, and arrows seemed to haphazardly fly off course, as though a gust of wind was knocking everything over. Adelia couldn’t help but smile, despite the turmoil. Mina sure knew how to make an entrance.