Page 49 of Dragons' Bride
"To get you some more comfortable attire," says Ettienne, as if it is obvious. "But first, to talk."
He stops in front of a heavy wooden door and opens it, letting me proceed him inside. I hesitate, my feet suddenly feeling rooted to the floor. The paragon of bravery, I am not.
“I do not keep my recipes for preparing human stew in here,” Ettienne says. “You are safe to come in.”
I doubt that, but I also know there is little choice in the matter.
Fortunately, the space beyond proves to be an office not a dungeon. Ettienne motions me to an oversized chair. At least oversized for a human. All the fae, especially the dragons, are larger by an order of magnitude. The king settles himself behind his large mahogany desk. He looks like a more severe version of Cyril, with darker eyes and long hair. Unlike the kings in the human world, the immortal Ettienne looks no older than his sons. Except for his gaze. That looks old and cunning.
“You made a deal with the princes to exchange your willing participation in the trials for your freedom?” It is phrased as a question, but clearly Ettienne knows the answer. That much he has cut out of my mind.
I flinch involuntarily at the memory of that pain. Of the intrusion. My fingers touch my ear, just to reassure myself that it is not bleeding anymore.
“I have no more desire to go back into your head than you wish me there,” Ettienne says dismissively. “But do answer my question.”
“Yes, my liege,” I whisper, unable to keep from glancing at the door. “That was the deal.”
“If you are wondering whether one of my sons will come after you, I assure you they will not.” Ettienne cocks his head. “Do you know why I am so very certain?”
“I imagine because you are their king and father, sir.”
Ettienne snorts softly. “I’d love to live in a world where that was all it took. However, no. There are other safeguards in place. Did any of them tell you about Lola?”
I shake my head.
“She was a female who Hauck imagined himself in love with. Eventually, she became a distraction from his duties and needed to be removed. When Hauck fought me on her relocation, I was forced to resolve the issue permanently.”
My throat constricts. “You killed her.”
“I had Quinton do it, but yes.”
Oh stars.I think I might be sick right here on Ettienne’s fancy floors.
He waves a hand, jewels sparkling on his finger. “Which is to say that, if my sons care for you, they will know better than to chase you to the same fate that Lola met. If they do not, then they have no reason to distract themselves from choosing a new female for the trials.”
Such a neat little package, with both routes leading to my likely demise. Which does mean I’ve little to lose by arguing my case. "My liege... If I may? Ultimately, winning the fertility elixir is what will make the greatest impact on Massa’eve. Would you not rather your sons won with me than lost with a human who better fits the prophecy description?”
Ettienne’s lips press together as if he is trying to keep from laughing. At least he finds me entertaining. “Fighting words,Lady Kitterny.But is it not presumptuous of a slave to suggest she might win?”
"I only speak of probabilities, my liege. The women you've brought are no doubt excellent, but the princes know none of them. I, on the other hand, have spent many weeks with the pack. All other women were trained by humans. I was trained by the royal princes of Massa'eve themselves. Does a pack that’s trained together not stand the better chance of victory?”
"My sons trained you?" That chuckle Ettienne is trying to suppress is now dancing in his eyes. "Yes, I imagine various types ofeducationwould have been necessary for this plan you five concocted. But do tell me what you learned of the dragons in return?"
I pause for a heartbeat, considering my answer. Of all things the king could have asked, this one is most unexpected. My shoulders clench. Is this a test of some sort? Or is he toying with me like he had at dinner? “The dragon princes are a credit to Massa’eve, my liege.”
“That isn’t an answer.” He leans back in his chair, his fingers tenting. “You’ve just given a pretty speech on the importance of knowing one’s pack. So tell me of my sons, Kitterny. Impress me.”
I swallow, not wanting to share anything with the male sitting behind the desk. But Ettienne is right, I did walk myself into this one. I also know better than to say no to the king of Massa’eve, especially one who can invade my mind. "Tavias is always in front,” I say finally. “Always bearing all the weight of the world on his shoulders. He has a temper, but his heart is just as fierce. And he wants nothing more than to do right by his people. By you.” Questionable as that might be.
Ettienne raises a brow at that, but motions for me to continue.
"Cyril is the quiet, responsible one. Always watching, always ready to help. He is the foundation that keeps the whole pack standing. He sees the whole battlefield and is forever thinking and analyzing and aiding in every way he can. He is the rock that Tavias can lean on. But there is a sadness inside him, one that he doesn't deserve to carry."
“You have opinions on what Cyril deserves, do you?” Ettienne makes a shoofly motion. “No, don’t answer that. Please continue. What shall you tell me about my son Hauck?"
"He is a rogue. Or at least he plays one. He's hurt, but he is clawing to keep from drowning. To not bring the world down into the darkness with him. But when things matter, Hauck is the one who will extend a hand. Who will see and protect. He is so much more than everyone gives him credit for. And he cares deeply. Sometimes too deeply for his own soul. If Tavias is the pack’s power, and Cyril is its mind, then Hauck is the heart."
"And let me guess, Quinton is its muscle? The sword to defend it all?"
