“And will I be kept safe from the dragon you intend for me to ride, or is that too much to ask?”
He says nothing.
“I’ll be honest,” I begin. “I don’t fully understand what I’m doing here. But I will help you with the dragon if you show me how. On the condition that you let me go home when my work is done.”
He is silent for a long moment, weighing my bargain.
“I wish I could promise you that.” His words are sincere. “But bonding a dragon is for life. You may be surprised how your mind changes after experiencing it for yourself. Aside from that, there have been…disturbances at the portal as of late. It would be unsafe to be anywhere nearby until we know more.”
I’m silent.
“The captain has informed me of your…demands.” The king braces his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. Jace’s eyes link with mine for a brief moment, his beautiful face set hard as stone.
“Requests,” I correct, holding up my pointer finger. “None of which seem unreasonable given the fact that I’m about to devote my life for the foreseeable future to being at your service.”
I smile sweetly. He huffs a mirthless laugh.
“We can agree that the future Dragon Rider will need training. Physical and magical.” He sits back in his ornately carved chair and steeples his hands. My eyes snag on the slight arch of his ears—the only distinguishable difference between Dad and king.
Except for the frilly clothes, of course.
“You will remain under my care and protection so long as you train in those areas. You will report to the captain each morning for physical training.”
“He’sgoing to train me?” I ask, my eyebrows quirked. His upper lip pulls back in a challenging snarl.
“Train you and serve as your personal guard.”
“Problem with that, witch?” he asks.
“No. It’s perfectly fine.” It takes effort to make my voice sound nonchalant as I redirect my attention to the king.
“Zadyn, you will tutor her in the ways of our world. History, court politics, magic. Teach her anything and everything that will prepare her for the journey she is about to embark upon.”
His gaze shifts to me. “In your off time, you will both be active members of this court.”
The king’s Master of Coin—the man with the long black hair and sinister eyes—stirs in his seat. “While I think that a wise idea, Majesty, we should make sure we are all on the same page about what we tell the public. It is not often we welcome new court members. There will be talk about who she is and where she came from.”
“He has a point, my King,” the ancient, robed fae drawls in a soft, reverent voice. “Perhaps we could claim a distant relative of Your Majesty. Any ties to the crown would justify her being here and put stop to any rumors.”
“Very well.” The king nods tightly. “From henceforth, you shall be known as Lady Serena Accostia. You will take the name of my kin. Your father was High Fae and a cousin of the king. He fell in battle, and your mother fled to raise you at a temple in the north. Both parents are deceased.”
I flinch inwardly.
Serena Accostia.Lady Serena Accostia.
“You are to attend my daughter, the princess, as one of her ladies.”
“Of course, there is also the matter of her appearance,” Gronwen says with disdain, his black pupils scanning me. I want to shrivel under his accusing stare. “She hardly blends.”
“Is there nothing to be done for the human glamour?” the gorgeous golden brown-skinned male, Lord Conwell, asks.
“Even Gnorr could not reverse it. In time, perhaps.” The king glances at him.
“Even in the human glamour, there is an odd resemblance…” The hairless High Priest trails off, eyes bouncing between me and the king.
“Mere coincidence,” the king replies dismissively.
“There is another solution. If we cannot undo the glamour, perhaps we can add to it,” the High Priest murmurs, assessing me.
