Page 104 of Dragon Fight

“My grandmother always swore by jade,” said another. “Used a jade spoon to stir through every dish we ate.”

“Poison?” Pastries were spat out, backs of hands going to mouths to wipe them clean. “This bitch fucking poisoned us?”

“No.” All the confidence was gone from her voice now, her eyes darting, the basket dropped to the floor, pastries rolling free as her hands went up to ward us off. “No, I didn’t… It wasn’t…”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Men were getting louder and louder, shouting out accusations, threats, when the general cut through it all, marching over to stare at the two of us like we were naughty girls caught fighting.

And I guess we were.

“What are you doing here, Countess? This is the mess hall, not the hatching grounds. Did you lose your way?”

His tone was clipped, precise and he put his hands behind his back, staring her down to wait for an answer.

“I brought pastries…” she said. “For the men.”

“The men are better fed than most people in the entirety of the city. What reason would you have to do this?”

She tried to smile but it faltered almost immediately.

“I thought it might be nice—”

“But poisoning a cadet isn’t,” I said and held up my ring, explaining to the man what had happened. “I demand satisfaction.”

This was a phrase uttered by noblemen at parties all over the city, delivered when one lordling felt like another had sullied his honour. It meant a duel would be held, the matter fought out, the victor claiming satisfaction on the matter.

It was also illegal.

“A duel?” The general shot me a dark look. “Between two women?” His eyes jerked down to where my hands rested on my daggers, the stones glowing extra brightly. “I don’t think it will come to that.” But any relief Beatrice might’ve felt was quickly dismissed when he turned back to her. “Though an attack on any of the rider corps is a very serious matter indeed.” He gestured to two of the men closest to Beatrice. “Take Her Excellency into custody.”

“No!” Beatrice shrieked.

“I’ll interrogate her about this matter later.”

“Draven!” She spun around as the prince appeared in the mess hall, trying to run to him, but the riders holding her refused to let her take a step forward. “Draven, tell them to let me go! This is outrageous.” She struggled in their grip, letting out a screech of frustration when it got her nowhere. “I am a countess! Wait until the Duke of Harlston hears of this!”

“And what say does my uncle have over the Royal Riders?” Draven asked her in a silky tone. His focus shifted to the general. “What has she been accused of?”

The general explained, summing up the crime in a few words, laying it bare for everyone to hear now, because the entire hall was quiet. Draven’s eyes flicked to me, to the ring I wore and the tell-tale red colour the stone had turned. The muscle popping in his jaw was the only indication of how he felt about the matter.

“The riders and any matter pertaining to them fall under the auspices of the general, with the king’s blessing,” Draven told her in cool tones. “He will get to the heart of the matter.”

“But your mother…”

Beatrice realised she’d made a mistake as soon as she said the words, and even if she hadn’t worked it out, the looks on the riders’ faces would have shown her. Disgust, anger, even fury coloured many of them, yet others shrank back, looking at their fellows in alarm. They were split between those riders that were loyal to the corps or their own duchies, and those that supported the Duke of Harlston and his sister, the queen. We might deal with the threats from outside Nevermere’s borders adeptly, but those from within?

“That fucking bitch, Raina—” one man started to mutter, the whole hall about to erupt in furious debate.

“You mean Queen Raina, my mother, your queen,” Draven said, and that’s when I saw what a good actor he was. He was the picture of the disgruntled prince right then.

“Of course, Draven I didn’t—”

“Your Highness,” he corrected sharply, then he looked up, meeting my eyes for a second, as if pleading for my understanding before focusing on the general. “You’ll keep me abreast of the situation?”

“Of course, Highness,” the man replied, sketching a bow to the prince before turning to Beatrice and her captors. “Have Her Excellency taken to my office and locked within.” She let out a sob of hopelessness then, her green eyes shining. “I’ll speak to her shortly. Brom?”

I turned to find my husband waiting at my shoulder, his face deathly pale, with Glimmer next to him. Her wings were held out from her body, as if to make herself seem bigger, more dangerous, in an instinctive response to a threat.

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