The word ‘our’ stuck with me, feeling strange in my throat. Vaetharyn was forced to my home, but I wondered if I was ever given the choice would I leave? Or would it become my home by choice?
I shoved the thoughts away, pushing them to the back of my mind feeling stupid for evenallowing them to enter. I wasn't Fae, Vaetharyn would never be a place that welcomed me. Childish ideas like that would only lead to hope. Hope which would inevitably be destroyed in heartbreak.
This was about ceremony, structure, and politics. Not the whimsical wishes of the girl I thought I had banished a long time ago. There would be a grand feast, followed by a ball. All to welcome the Dragon King and his people. To show them the delights of Vaetharyn and act as a guise to host talks of new alliances and heal old wounds.
The Fae nobles already sat in their seats. Talking and whispering as they always did. Some looked at me with confusion, whilst others sneered at my hand on Rhael’s shoulder. They all saw the same thing. A human who had no business having status. A slave who should have been beaten instead of praised
The horns sounded, distracting me from my darkening thoughts. A deafening noise that made me want to cover my ears and run. Instead, I grit my teeth focusing on the way the temperature seemed to rise as the dragon King entered.
He was broad and imposing. His presence filled the space as if the air bent around him. The Dragon King looked every part the fierce warrior told in the stories.
His skin was a golden bronze, marked with faint scale like patterns along his neck and collar bones. Long golden blonde dreadlocks fell down his back whilst his eyes scanned the room. Light greenorbs sharp and full of knowledge watching before looking to Rhael, then to me.
Five other dragons followed, massive hulks of men fanning out behind their leader in a V formation. Their movements were fluid despite their size. The group grew more with Valkyries and harpies, the female warriors displaying talons and wings evident even from where I stood.
The look of them alone caused my eyes to widen. In the human slums we had been told stories of the great female army that fought alongside the Dragons, but I had always thought it was a lie. Something to tell young girls who had nothing better to dream of than warriors in a far off land. A lie I now knew to be true.
“Aasim, King of Pyrhador. Welcome to my home.” Rhael smiled, breaking the silence as he outstretched his arms in a grand gesture.
“Rhael, how generous of you to welcome me. Although, it is a shame you are still known to me as the King who broke his word,” Aasim kept his voice level, in an uncaring tone that rivalled Rhael’s, but the words stung through the air. His opening words were to call Rhael a liar and I knew in my stomach this would not end well.
I felt Rhael’s shoulders stiffen under my touch. It was subtle, if I wasn't touching him, I would not have noticed, but the movement was still there. I kept my eyes straight ahead, trying not to wince at the words myself. It was difficult.
I wanted to tell the dragon King to go to hell. But instead, I clamped my teeth down onto theinside of my lip not wanting to make the situation worse.
“We can discuss old falsehoods whilst we eat. Please let your people sit and rest. I am sure they are tired and in need of nourishment.” Rhael smiled, his polite demeanour never faltering as he gestured to the empty seat beside him and the others dotted around the room.
Aasim said nothing as he nodded, a gruff sound escaping from his lips as he moved to the table, clearly deciding not to comment any further on the bad blood between them. I stood uncomfortable, wondering if this would be another display of affection or if it would be the stoic silence I was used to.
As soon as the food was served my mouth began to water. Roasted game glazed with honey and spices lay before us, platters with jewelled fruit piled high were carried through the hall along with bread, split open and steaming with butter. Every guest in attendance was provided a goblet, filled to the brim with rich, dark, wines.
Aasim sat beside Rhael, his posture deceptively loose. He said little, only acknowledging Rhael's attempts at conversation with grunts or dismissive noises. He watched, more than anything he watched me.
Before I could even ask where I should be seated, I felt Rhael’s hand at my waist. With practiced ease, he drew me into his lap, so I was sitting sideways. The glamorous dress I wore fell over his legs and to the ground.
My breath hitched but I tried not to stiffen, acting as if this was normal. Playing into the show of being Rhael’s companion once more. His grip remained firm over my hip, his thumb tracing slow patterns over the fabric as if easing my discomfort.
“Relax, they need to believe it,” he whispered as he leant close his lips brushing against my neck. I wanted to snap back at him, the quick remark lingering on my tongue.
Instead, I leant forward. Placing my hand over his chest to steady myself as I felt the beat of his heart. Letting him know, silently, that I would go along with his plan. That I would help him secure this alliance in any way he deemed necessary. However, the selfish side of me was happy to play this game, to be close to him again meant relieving some of the desire I had been ignoring for days.
Rhael pressed a kiss to my temple, soft, as if I were his lover before placing another to my cheek. The final kiss was the most daring, his soft lips lingering on the edge of my mouth.
Reminding me once more that this was just a performance. Despite what I felt Rhael had yet to kiss me fully, proving to me I was just a game, but my pulse betrayed me anyway.
Aasim’s gaze flicked to us several times during the meal. His green eyes watching me with intrigue. His eyes lingering on my mouth as Rhael fed me himself.
Small bites of fruit and carved meat were offered, all with slow deliberate practice. Once again, I could feel him growinghard beneath me, if I was a hopeless romantic, I would assume he wanted me, but I knew better and it was probably just his ego. Getting off on being the centre of attention, the puppet master, once more.
“Perhaps I should ask Penny to thicken my skirts next time you intend to place me on your lap, since you seem intent on showing me how much you enjoy this game,” I whispered, taking my opportunity to show the Fae King that although I was doing as he asked, my defiance had not wavered.
The words whispered into his ear, as I pushed my chest against his. Hearing his breath hitch as he struggled to find the words to respond. Instead, his hand gripped my hip tighter, bruising almost.
The feast stretched on, with laughter and music filling the space, until the last of the plates were cleared. The servants were already rearranging the room to transform it into an elegant open space for dancing and playfulness.
“Shall we begin with the ball, King Aasim?” Rhael asked, looking from me to the Dragon King who sat back in his chair picking at his teeth with a small, sharp, bone.
“Yes, however before we do. I must warn you Rhael. The alliance you seek will not be as easy as before. I do not come here asking for pretty words, etched onto parchment with ink. I want bonds made in blood,” Aasim responded as I felt Rhael straighten. His hands still held me in his lap as he took in the first real words spoken by his guest.
