Page 97 of Wrath of the Dragons
It’s nice to hear him speak positively about the isles. He rarely does, and I can’t blame him. “When we win the war, I promise to eat mangoes with you until we hate them.”
“Sure thing, princess.” He throws an arm around my shoulders as a warm breeze ruffles my skirt and we turn down another road.
The entire row is made up of gambling dens, all in close proximity for people with deep pockets to hop from one to the other. Shutters on all establishments are open, and the sounds of cheers accompanied by cards being slammed down and chips raining drift into the street.
“Yes, I’d say we’re in the right place,” Ryder muses.
“Where do we even start?” Finnian asks.
“In the worst one possible,” I answer. “It’s the people nobody notices who know the most about everyone.”
I snag a bottle of rum off a table surrounded by unsuspecting patrons and take a swig before passing it along. Though I’ve seen flame-wielders in action at home, it’s different being here where they’ve worshipped fire for centuries. They pull the element from the lanterns lining the road and send sparks shooting through the air. Some even go as far as to create a flock of fluttering birds or a slithering serpent coiling around the sun. Neither my nor Cayden’s godly markings draw unwanted attention despite our arms being on full display because various citizens have covered their bodies in colorful, swirling paint. Bowls of discarded shades spill onto the white stone road, andfootprints create faded paths as whoever ran through it found something to capture their attention.
A deep bout of shouting draws my attention away from the paper lanterns hanging above. A clearly drunk man is thrown down a set of steps leading to one of the gambling halls by a sellsword far larger than him, made even more threatening by the burn scars covering half his face.
“This place looks perfect.” I grab the rum from Finnian’s hand before he has the chance to tip it back while I lead the group to an alleyway beside the small building. “You four wait here and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Why do I have to wait out here?” Finnian whines.
“Because you blush when you lie.” I take another sip before pouring some into my hand and dabbing it on my neck and the tops of my breasts, which are pushed up by my white band top with a star sapphire at the center. The matching skirt hangs low on my hips along with a jeweled chain, and I dab more alcohol on my stomach to ensure I smell like I crawled through a tavern.
Cayden leans down to lick some off my chest and I shove his shoulders. “No interfering with the performance.”
“Can I have a private one?”
“I’m very expensive.”
He shrugs, leaning his back against the wall across from me and devouring me with his eyes. “Name your price.”
“You can’t say anything sarcastic for an entire day in response to any of us.”
“I said price, not miracle.”
“And he failed already,” Ryder says, claiming the spot beside Cayden. “I bet she gets what we need in twenty minutes.”
“Ten,” Cayden replies, shaking Ryder’s outstretched hand and jutting his chin toward the entrance. Pride zings in my chest and I alter my walk slightly when I make it to the front steps, not wanting to seem obviously drunk. Subtleness is what sells a performance. If I weretruly drunk, I’d be doing everything in my power to make people believe I wasn’t.
The dragons push against the bond, wanting to disobey my command to stay out of sight and find me, but I dig my heels in and issue the command again, closing my eyes so nobody sees them glow gold in the dim light. I knew their complacency would be short-lived, but I didn’t think it would end this quickly.
There’s hardly anything noteworthy in here aside from the chipped mosaic of the sea crashing along the domed ceiling, but it’s faded, same as the mismatched tables strewn about haphazardly. The air is hot and thick with pipe smoke and sweat, and I shove my way to the bar, catching myself on the wooden surface. I laugh to myself as I hop up onto a stool and smile at a pair of women who make brief eye contact before returning the gesture, giggling into their glasses.
“What are you drinking?” I ask, dropping my head onto my fist and kicking my legs.
“Rum and coconut water,” the one closest to me says. “Would you like to try?”
“Why not?” I give my order to the woman behind the bar and thank her when she slides it in front of me. I don’t love it, but it’s not the worst thing I’ve tasted.
“Are you from here?”
“Oh, no.” I laugh. “I’m just passing through on my father’s merchant ship.”
“Well, there’s certainly enough entertainment for a young woman in this kingdom in case you haven’t noticed.” She glances over her shoulder where I don’t doubt several men glance in our direction, not just for me, but for them as well. They may not be dressed in ornate gowns, but the lack of calluses on their hands makes me believe they’re highborn ladies looking for an escape. Highborn people mostly keep to the more expensive part of the city, the Light District, so they’d have a better chance of not running into anyone they know here.
Beneath the bar, I transfer my wedding ring to a different finger.“Perhaps I should take advantage. My father plans to marry me off to the highest bidder once we dock at home. I fear I won’t be getting out of any arrangement unless I step back onto his boat with a prince on my arm.”
The woman on the left laughs, sympathy lining her eyes. “Well any prince of Galakin will be locked in the palace. They never come into the city. Prince Zale does on occasion, but never outside of his favored places—mainly artist piazzas or the theater.”
“Pity,” I slur and finish off my drink. “I heard that the prince of Thirwen is here? Is that true? I’ve always wanted to meet a prince.”
