“My sister is not thisprincessyou speak of. We grew up west of here,” Vetr interjected smoothly, placing only slight emphasis on the wordprincess. It was too subtle for the soldiers to take offense, but I heard the edge to the word.
The soldier straightened, eyeing Vetr scornfully. “And who the fuck invited you to speak?” He glanced to his fellow soldiers and inquired, “Did any of you invite him to speak?”
I flinched as the other soldiers chuckled and confirmed that no, they had not extended such an invitation.
Vetr stood then, the legs of his wooden chair scraping against the floor as it slid back.
All levity escaped the soldiers as they tipped their heads to look up at Vetr. Even in their chain mail, they appeared diminutive before him.
One of the soldiers let out a small whistle, his hand falling to rest on the hilt of his sword. “He’s a big ’un.”
Thankfully, no one mistook Vetr for Fell. If these soldiers were from the City, they would have seen Fell when he arrived, after all, but fortunately the silver hair was enough to differentiate the two of them. Anyone who knew Fell intimately would recognize Vetr’s similarity to him at once, but that was not these men.
The leader pointed to Vetr’s chair. “No need for you to stand. We’re not addressing you.”
Vetr inclined his head to me. “My sister is my concern.”
“We will let you know your concern.” The soldier’s finger made another stabbing motion toward the chair. “Now sit down,brother.”
Vetr didn’t move, and unease climbed up my throat. Tension crackled on the air, and I noticed some of the other patrons silently slipping from the taproom, the door thudding behind them. The soldiers did not spare them a glance, all their focus rigidly trained on Vetr now.
Arran reached up and gave a single tug to Vetr’s sleeve. It was a long moment in which Vetr looked from the soldiers to me to Arran … and then, slowly, he reclaimed his seat.
The soldier with the black maw for a mouth turned his attention back to me, and continued. “Tell me,Princess. How did you come to be here?”
He was relentless, and I did not know what else I could say to prove to him that I was not, in fact, who he believed me to be. Especially as he was correct.
I searched the faces of Vetr and Arran and Harald, wondering if I looked as wild and cornered as I felt, a hare in a trap.
As the fear in me grew, so did the steam, inflating my lungs, looking for a place to go. I didn’t dare open my mouth to speak for fear that smoke might escape. I inhaled through my nose and heldmy breath. Vetr’s gaze cut into me, telling me what I already knew.Don’t reveal your dragon.
“Princess?” the soldier prompted.
The formal title prickled my skin and triggered a surge of emotion in me—a loathing for a past I could not change. I had never been a princess. Not really. It was simply something to call me to justify the whippings. An empty designation. I knew that now. A part of me knew that then, but I had been too young, too blind, too naive to face it.
I eased my lips apart, cautious that only words escaped me, nothing more than that, not steam or smoke or fire. “Don’t call me that.” His eyes narrowed a bit, and I realized I had erred. Whether with my words or my tone—likely both—I should not have told him what to do. “I am not who you think,” I amended, striving for a milder manner.
His skeptical expression told me I had convinced him of nothing. “Now, I could understand why you wouldn’t want anyone to find you. The new Lord of the Borderlands isn’t too fond of you.”
I worked my throat, swallowing a lump that went down like burning coal.
“He’s saying all kinds of things about you,” he added. “Strangethings.”
I suddenly felt lightheaded and woozy, the world slipping away from me, as insubstantial as water sliding through my fingers as I digested that, knowing at once whatstrange thingsStig was saying.
One of the soldiers leaned in closer and eyed me warily as he asked, “Jorgen, what if it’s true? The things he says about her?”
Jorgen rolled his eyes and sent a scathing glance at the man. “Are you daft, Ari? Does she look like a dragon to you?”
Dragon.
The word dropped like a hammer, a heavy and clanging sound that sent ripples eddying out in every direction.
The air hissed from my mouth. Of course Stig had told everyone that he had seen me transform into a dragon.
I didn’t dare look at Vetr or the others. I felt their astonishment like a dousing of frigid water over me—felt my own panic rising as a tide inside me, the worddragonbouncing all around us.
I eyed the soldiers with renewed caution. If they knew of Stig’s claims, they did not appear to give them any credence. If they thought I was this most terrible creature, reviled by man, they would not be talking to me so calmly.
