Page 41 of Dragons' Bride
“Enough.” Tavias’s words come through clenched teeth and are barely audible. “I don’t care how you two actually feel about one another, but the moment we step off this ship, you are nothing but devoted. Quinton wants nothing more than to protect Kit with his life, and Kit dreams of bearing Quinton’s pups. Thirty-five of them. Am I making myself clear?”
I catch the flash in Tavias’s eyes and nod quickly. “Very clear.”
Quinton turns away. “We’re not off the ship yet.”
Cyril curses.
21. KIT
“Your carriage is ready, my prince,” a liveried manservant bows to Tavias the moment we step onto the docks, which teem with activity. Sailors secure ropes and dock workers unload crates, the clamor of voices merging with the cries of gulls and the rhythmic creaking of ships swaying with the tide. The salty sea air I’ve become accustomed to on the Phoenix now mingles with the fragrant aroma of exotic spices and flowers that drift from nearby market stalls.
Before we can take two steps, a contingent of royal guards steps forward, their uniforms adorned with golden thread. Their disciplined formation contrasts sharply with the chaos of the docks as they touch their hands to their hearts in salute before forming a diamond around us. A moment later, and yet another liveried man appears with refreshments and news of court.
Everything is happening so quickly and smoothly that I wonder if they hadn’t rehearsed all the motions before our arrival.
“Why wouldn’t they have?” Cyril says matter of factly, and I realize that I’d spoken my last thought aloud.
As we make our way toward the carriage, I try to take in the princes’ home without appearing to gape. In truth though, I’ve never been to a large city and this… this is beyond anything I could have imagined. Towering spires and intricately carved balconies dominate the skyline in a bow to Massa’eve dragon heritage. The layout of the city, as much as I can see it from the docks, appears to central around the looming palace, boulevards lined with lush trees and flowering plants extending from it like the spokes of a wheel.
“This is beautiful,” I whisper.
“And yet, you outshine it all,” Hauck says with a smirk. “I’m not being poetic, by the way. In case you’ve failed to notice, it’s you who everyone is watching.”
With a start, I realize that Hauck is right, and promptly trip over my own feet.
Hauck catches my elbow.
Cyril falls in on my other side. “Are you alright?” he asks quietly.
“Fine.” Except for the part that everywhere I turn, I now find someone staring. In curiosity. In disdain. In hope. In every emotion in between. I wonder if any of them are also secretly wondering if a human isn’t a bad omen, like the sailors did.
Once we reach the carriage, Quinton helps me inside. For a heartbeat, I think he is being genuinely helpful, but the moment the door closes behind us, Quinton pulls away as if burned.
“Does being near me pain you so much that you can’t even feign civility for a few hours?” I hiss.
“Does walking distress you so much that you can’t work out where your feet go?”
I shake my head in disgust.
He snarls.
“Enough, you two,” Tavias snaps.“If Ettienne suspects you aren’t fully committed to the Equinox Trials –”
“He’ll what? Decide to give up on the whole thing?” says Quinton. “Let Geoffrey compete uncontested?”
Tavias growls. A reminder of who is in charge. When that fails to make an impression on Quinton, Tavias shakes his head. “You know better than to underestimate, Ettienne. You, of all people.”
Darkness flickers over Quinton’s silver scales.
I rub my arms. “Can I just say that your father sounds horrid?”
“He isn’t,” Cyril says, shaking his head.
“He –” I cut myself off, unsure if Cyril would be alright with me bringing up his captivity.
“He puts Massa’eve and the dragons first though,” Cyril finishes for me. “Ahead of whatever his own desires might be.”
Tavias nods. “It’s not just the fate of the dragons at stake. In the southern ocean, Massa’eve is the force standing between the likes of Nagaia and Azulon. Both their courts fought against warding the humans away. They are still bitter over being unjustly denied their mortal slave labor. If Salazar takes Massa’eve’s throne, he’s not going to hold Ettienne’s line about the humans.”
