Page 48 of Dragons' Bride
“Thank you, sir,” Tavias says, his voice once again controlled as he rights an overturned chair. “We will not disappoint you.”
“Lady Kitterny’s observations were wise.” Cyril nods in my direction. “If we alter the color of her hair now, the few people at the pier will believe themselves mistaken. The nature of her magic need not be disclosed outside the trials. And –”
“Lady Kitternyis a slave,” Ettienne says, cutting Cyril off. “That is no pedigree to continue a royal line no matter the nature of her hair and magic. Even if it weren’t so, Massa’eve deserves its princes to do better than drag an overdressed throw away to the most important event in two decades.”
“I don’t understand,” says Tavias. “You just said the pack will compete.”
“And so you will.” Ettienne claps his hands three times and one of the side doors to the dining room is pulled open. “You will compete properly. With a proper bride apparent.”
A chill runs over my skin as three human women in white dresses walk inside, their long, blond hair waving behind them. They are beautiful. Graceful. Demur. Even more importantly, each holds an object suspended in the air above her palm. Air touched, just like the prophecy that promises to heal Massa’eve’s land.
Nothing at all like me.
Ignoring the mess that Tavias has made of dinner, they line up before the dragon princes, eyes down cast.
“From distant lands, a mortal strays, with locks of white and air that plays,” Ettienne announces.
“Thus rises one that’s strong and true, who’ll conjure life her soul imbued.
Her spirit fierce, her power vast, her fate entwined with dragons' past.
Their numbers scarce, their hopes forlorn, for generations hatchlings mourn.
Until the dragons forge a bond, a unity that grows beyond.
With only her shall dragons find, a future thriving and entwined.”
Finishing reciting the prophecy, Ettienne points to the floor. “Kneel,” he orders.
The women kneel gracefully.
"Spares and decoys." Ettienne waves his hand at them. "When a wise king has something as vital as the Equinox Trials to contend with, he doesn’t rest his whole strategy on the hope that one particular human will survive to breeding age.” He strides down the line, lifting one girl’s face for examination then releasing it with a shrug.
“The viziers I sent to the human land initially identified six suitable women,” Ettienne continues. “One perished along the way, and another was maimed by the pox a few years back. Of the four remaining, you were directed to bring the best choice over yourselves. At the same time, three other teams were sent to quietly retrieve the spares.”
My breath halts as I realize the full extent of my irrelevance. None of the dragon princes speak. Not even Cyril.
"Why did you not tell us this before we left?" Tavias asks finally.
"You had no need to know,” Ettienne replies. “Had you succeeded in your mission, you wouldn’t have known about these girls even now. It is safer that way. Plus, what would you have done differently if you had known? Shown up empty handed, your failure on display for the whole kingdom? You are too smart for that Tavias. And if you’d not thought of it yourself, Cyril surely would have.”
I can't bear to bring myself to look at the dragon princes. Everything they need, everything they’d wanted me to fake, was now theirs in triplicate. Kneeling and waiting for orders.
“You four have two hours to select your new bride from the three choices here,” Ettienne says with a finality that rings through the room. “If you cannot, I will make the selection on your behalf. Kitterny, come with me if you please. I wish to speak with you.”
Hauck spins toward us, his teeth bared.
“I will not harm your pet,” Ettienne tells him. “Unless you give me a reason to, of course. Do we understand each other?”
Haucks’s scales tuck in. “We do.”
“Excellent.” The king opens the door, and I have no choice but to walk through it.
24. KIT
Ifeel disconnected from myself as I follow Ettienne. The sound of the door closing behind us, the lock clicking shut, rings over and over in my mind. The memory is as loud as the pounding of my heart against my ribs. For a moment, I expect one of the dragon princes to come after me, to at least pound on the door, but there is only silence.
"Where are you taking me, sir?" I ask. If Ettienne is not going to be swayed by his sons’ endeavors, I doubt my questions will alter his intentions either. So I might as well ask.
