He chuckles. “You have plenty of time. They’re not here to see you. They just want a look at that water magic of hers—”
My first form rounds on him before I can even think. He’s half a head taller, but suddenly I loom over him, my teeth bared, my voice thick with flames.
“She’s mine.”
The words reverberate with enough force to rattle bones.
Rally drops to his knees, and shutting his eyes, he tilts his head back to expose his throat. It’s the stance of a dragon in abject submission.
“I was not thinking,” he whispers. “Forgive me, Soren.”
Seeing him like that hits me like a blow. I step back, driving my first form back down as I do.
“For stars’ sake,” I say, glancing off, “stand up.”
Rally climbs to his feet as I scrub my face with a hand. I need to go. “Was this how it was when you met Marta?”
Rally married a human female. Perhaps their kind holds some special gift for bewitching dragons.
“It wasn’t this severe,” he says, dusting off his knees. “I also wasn’t trying to hold my horns.” He makes a vague gesture toward my head.
“You know why I must.”
“I do.”
Turning on my heel, I go to leave. “Make sure the dignitaries are seen to properly, Rally.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” A pause follows, and then, “Where are you going?”
“To find breakfast.”
18
The breakfast that arrives is the strangest I’ve ever seen.
First, it’s a veritable feast. When maids began filing into the room, I’d climbed back into bed where the king claimed to take breakfast. There, a tray with enough food to feed all four of my sisters is set up over my lap.
Second, there is so muchchocolate. Chocolate drizzled over fruit, chocolate ganache peeking out from pastries, even a warm chocolate drink in lieu of milk or juice.
Surely, this is a special meal and not how the king eats every day?
“Is the food not to your liking, Your Highness?” This comes from a young maid straightening the blankets at my feet. She looks rather anxious over my hesitation.
“Oh, no.” I smile at her. “It all looks delicious. Please thank the cooks for me.” I take a bite of what appears to be a chocolate-covered mango slice to reassure her.
It is good.
The maid smiles back and returns to her work.
Two other maids—one of whom is Cora, the one I mistook for a ladies’ maid—seem to be in a quiet debate, and my bed straightener joins them as I sneak glances their way. The debate seems to be over what to do with a second tray, which I can only assume to be the king’s.
It seems they did expect to find him here.
I glance aside, my mouth working mechanically as I think back on the king’s expression when I flinched. He lookedpained, leaving me with the uncomfortable sensation I had hurt him far more than I feared he would me.
I didn’t mean to react like that. It was only reflex, a reaction brought on by memories of—
I turn my thoughts back to my breakfast and bite clear through an oversized date.
