Page 28 of Caress of Fire
Fedryc’s words hung in the air as Isobel slowly inhaled, then glared at Marielle for a long time. Finally, her mouth softened and her wrinkles disappeared to make way for a remote coldness, heavy with the promise of a long-lived hatred.
“Will the Lady Marielle take residence in your mother’s old chambers?” Isobel cocked her head to one side, keeping her expression carefully neutral as anger poured out of her eyes like liquid mercury. “Those are the lady of the castle’s apartments.”
“No.” Fedryc shook his head. “You can keep your chambers. Marielle will move in to mine.”
Isobel lifted one brow but inclined her head in acceptance. “Of course.” She spoke with velvet-wrapped hatred, her eyes going from Marielle to Fedryc. ”And what of your father’s Mourning?”
Marielle listened to Isobel, the uneasy feeling in her belly growing by the second. She didn’t need to be Draekon to understand Fedryc had just thrown the woman from her pedestal and that Isobel Haal now saw her as a threat.
“Marielle will hold the position of honor alongside me,” Fedryc stated simply. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like Marielle wasn’t suddenly at the very center of a deadly power play. “You will stand with Silva as the guest of honor.”
“Guest of honor.” Isobel repeated Fedryc’s last words, her lips pursed like she was tasting some particularly foul food. “Of course. That will make you the High Lord in everyone’s eyes.”
“I am High Lord,” Fedryc answered, sparing no pity for his aunt’s obvious hurt feelings. “And you would do well to remember it.”
“My Lord.” Isobel inclined her head in obedience but her silver eyes shone with resentment. “My Lady.”
Her steely gaze went to Marielle once more before she turned on her heels and walked away, her back straight and her elegant figure swaying gracefully as her emerald dragon followed in her footsteps.
As Marielle watched Silva give her a tiny, apologetic smile and leave, she reflected that she had just made a new enemy without even trying to.
Chapter 10
Marielle stared in the mirror, keeping her hands away from her sides, too afraid to touch the dress that clung to her body, revealing just as much as it was hiding, shimmering like a flame. The fabric hugged every curve of her body, red, orange and yellow tones melding like precious metal. Only it wasn’t fabric. No, the dress itself was made of dragon scales. It was close-fitting around her hips, waist and chest, leaving one shoulder completely bare and draping across the other to end in the small of her back in a flaming pattern that seemed made of pure blood diamonds.
The gown flared from her knees down in a wide circle, giving her small stature an elegant, swanlike appearance.
It had taken less than a half-day for the skilled artisans to fashion the dress from Nyra’s scales, a dazzling work of art. The most beautiful thing Marielle had ever worn.
She was afraid to even touch it.
“There, Lady Marielle.” Asha stepped aside and admired her handiwork. “You look wonderful.”
Marielle opened her mouth to thank the Delradon servant girl but it was too dry to talk and no sound came out.
She didn’t recognize the stranger looking back at her in the mirror. The gown’s color offset her pale skin, giving it an ethereal, delicate texture. Her gray eyes shone in the middle of her face while a wide braid tamed her flaming hair, running down her naked shoulder and brushing the top of her gown. Glowing jewels were strewn through the braid, glistening through her curls like they belonged there.
“I don’t know how you did that,” Marielle said truthfully. “I don’t look like me.”
“Of course you do.” Asha spoke softly, a smile on her face. “You are very beautiful. Lord Fedryc will be proud to have you at his side for the Mourning tonight.”
“Thank you, Asha. I have never been this pampered in my life.”
Marielle smiled at the girl who had fussed over her for the last few hours. The Mourning of Lord Aymond, that sacred Draekon ceremony, was going to take place when the moon was at its highest in the sky, and Marielle was going to stand beside Fedryc and Nyra as Fedryc’s Draekarra, the most powerful woman in the kingdom.
The thought made Marielle want to scurry away and hide, but she couldn’t. Fedryc needed her, and she owed him that.
She owed him that and much more.
Marielle turned away from her reflection and smiled at Asha. The girl was nice but shy, speaking in soft tones. Her presence soothed Marielle’s shot nerves.
The girl smiled back, visibly proud of her work, and turned around to pick up the ornate box left on the heavy dresser against the wall of the bedroom. She held it with awe and an almost religious deference as she presented it to Marielle.
“They brought your Draekar bracelet, my Lady.”
Asha lifted the cover of the ornate box, encrusted with enough gold and jewels to wipe clean Devan’s debt twice over. But what lay inside made Marielle take a step backward. It was a marvel fit for a Goddess, something so beautiful, so precious, she felt guilty just looking at it.
The bracelet that lay on a bed of black velvet gleamed with a life of its own. Its colors—red, orange and yellow—embraced each other in a succession of flames, carved out of Nyra’s scale. The scale Fedryc had pulled out for her.
