Page 6 of Dreams of Ash and Smoke

I stare at Dryston until he catches me, a blush rises to my cheeks from embarrassment as he scolds me with one look and I don’t look at him the rest of breakfast.

* * *

Hadeon knocks on my bedroom door this time, signaling the carriage was ready. Today, I want to go into the city and look at vendors for a breath of fresh air after brunch. “Are you both ready?” He asks us as Mya opens the door. I nod, keeping my head at an angle so the bruise was out of sight.

He walks behind us as we make our way to the carriage at the front of the palace. I had to change my gown from less formal and now don an elegant yellow that makes me nauseous.

The ride was smooth, as usual. Dryston always reminds of how dangerous being his betrothed is, even with him, so I rarely get to leave the castle.

“Remember to stay close. The Prince isn’t wrong, it is dangerous being the betrothed.” Hadeon spoke to me. I roll my eyes, nodding regardless.

When Hadeon saved my life five years ago, I was in the city, wandering around and enjoying meeting vendors and the people of our kingdom. Aman was waiting to ambush me next to one of our food vendors but Hadeon intervened just before he could. At the time, there was a lot of talk about a war brewing between countries and Dryston had told me my attackers were from Khyrel, but I could have sworn I had seen them before here in town. Of course I was called crazy for it.

“I know. Thank you,” I say to him.

The horses pulling the carriage come to a halt and Hadeon exits first before he holds his hand out to me.

A sharp pain shoots through my ankle as my slipper catches on the step, causing me to stumble and fall. He moves with lightning speed to catch me, his grip tight as he pulls me upright. His eyes scan over my face, darkening with anger when they land on the bruise and cut decorating my skin. Without a word, he stands me up and I shake my head in warning, glancing at Mya. His posture stiffens as he nods curtly, understanding that this is not a matter to be discussed with others before allowing me to lead us forward.

We amble leisurely through the vibrant city streets, taking in the sights and sounds of bustling shops and energetic people. As we pass by storefronts, I exchange friendly greetings with shopkeepers and merchants, their welcoming smiles and warm voices adding to the charm of our visit. My senses are full of the delectable aromas of varied cuisines and freshly baked goods, beckoning me to taste and indulge in their tempting offerings. Though they never charge for their samples, I always insist on paying as a gesture of gratitude and appreciation. This is my favorite part of exploring the city — immersing myself in its rich flavors and unique culture.

These townspeople deserve our attention. They are the only thing holding this kingdom together. Dryston never sees it that way, another reason I want to be queen. He promised me it was because he never had time to think about it and that I’d be in charge of everything regarding our care toward them.

Hadeon never wants to taste a cuisine, but I always get him to cave and try something I know he’ll like so I can see the look on his face when herealizes I am right.

Mya looks as if she hates being here, distastefully regarding each vendor. I try to ignore it as I enjoy my time.

We stop at the modiste so I can grab my new dress for tomorrow and have my final fitting for my coronation gown. Then, we stop for a wedding present for Dryston, before we finally settle on a little table outside the eatery with some food we picked up. “I love that everyone here treats me like a normal person. I’m not hoarded around and overwhelmed by people. I hope Prince Dryston can work on the peace pact with the Khyrel. I can’t imagine sending anyone to war right now.” The topic seems to make Hadeon tense, but Mya doesn’t notice his sudden change in demeanor.

“I need to speak with you.” He stands and motions for me to follow. “Mya wait here and watch the food. We don’t need anyone poisoning our future queen.”

We step away from the group, out of earshot, and he leans in close to me. The scent of his cologne wafts over me, a mix of sandalwood and citrus. “What happened to your face?” he asks, his voice laces with concern.

“I think you already know,” I respond, crossing my arms in irritation.

“I want to hear you say it,” he demands, his dark irises staring into mine.

“This mark is my punishment,” I admit, my heart sinking at the memory. “I should be grateful that he didn’t do worse.”

Anger flashes across his face as his hands clench into fists at his sides. I watch as he trembles with rage, knowing that he will do anything to protect me from harm.

“He should be thankful I am not ramming my fists through his face. I cannot allow him to continue doing this, Verena. I am your friend— your guard and I am not doing my duty to you if I allow this.”

“He is your king-”

His eyes blaze with a fury that I had never seen before. The once tranquil eyes now seem to darken, reflecting the intensity of his emotions. “He is not my king,” he spat, each word dripping with defiance and resentment.

“Not yet, but he will be,” My tone softens slightly. “I made a mistake and I got punished. I know my place, and you shall know yours. Leave it.” His jaw clenches as he tries to contain his rising anger.

Before he can say anything else, I turn on my heel and strode back to Mya. She quickly averts her gaze, pretending she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on our conversation. I wasn’t sure how much she heard and the tension between us only grew thicker. The rest of our time in the city goes by fast, but I am no longer in a wandering mood.

When we arrive back at the palace, I hastily head for the stairs. Today was emotionally exhausting. Since it’s the only time I can leave the castle, I usually enjoy leaving the castle but lately something feels as if it’s missing. Everything feels darker in the world and I can’t do anything to stop it. It feels as if someone is holding a pillow over my face and I can no longer breathe.

Maybe it’s the possibility of oncoming war or the fact that my place here in the palace seems less and less significant with each day.

I sigh, laying on the bed without even changing from my day clothes. I hope for a dreamless sleep, but once again the unknown male with the black markings on his hand visits me.

Chapter 4: Freshly Baked Dessert

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