His mind races. Marek needs to take a page from Vana’s book and control himself. Imrik is angry about Vana’s departure already, so now is the worst time to push him. Marek needs time. If he can delay the betrothal until Imrik calms down, maybe Imrik will agree that one of the cousins would be a better claimant for Sei.
“Let’s discuss this tomorrow and pick a date for the betrothal,” Marek says.
Imrik smiles at that—not a good sign. “No need. I’ve already chosen a date to sign the contract. The twenty-third of Raya.”
Marek freezes. “That’s today.”
“Yes, that’s today, and the hour is now, before your new claim falls asleep on his feet.” Imrik turns towards the palace in a sweep of his black and silver cloak.
It’s probably a good thing Loska already took off. If Loska was still in the courtyard, Marek might not have kept himself from retreating in flight. Instead, he moves mechanically in Imrik’s wake, without a glance at his mother, brother, or unwanted claim-to-be.
As the dark pillars and tapestries of Ostomar rise around him, Marek tries to think of how to get out of this. He has a knack for strategy, for figuring out his opponent. Even if his opponent is the king himself, Marek doesn’t believe in impossible fights.
What’s impossible is this betrothal. This marriage. Does Imrik truly expect Marek to use Sei as a grail? The idea gets worse the more Marek thinks about it.
There’s a reason the dragon corps doesn’t use grails. The dragonbond is complex, natural magic. As powerful and impactful as the inheritance spell—but there’s no ritual. No effort. Just an instinctive connection between Draskora’s two most dangerous predators.
Dragons are both social creatures and viciously competitive. The bond gives them balance and support during their volatile youths. Dragons also have inherent passive magic. Fueled by scalestone, that magic is what allows them to fly and breathe fire.
The bond strengthens dragon magic. If the rider is a mage, their magic is strengthened too. Some non-mage riders even discover minor latent abilities after bonding.
There’s no closing a dragonbond once it forms. Which means that if a dragonbound mage pulls power from a grail, if the mage isn’t careful, that power is pulled through the rider into the dragon too. With both dragon and rider pulling on the grail’s power reserves, they risk burning the grail out and leaving them a crippled husk—at best.
The mage must be very skilled and very careful. Even then, in the heat of battle? With the rider’s concentration already consumed with flight and fight?
The last dragon corps grail died a hundred years ago, burned out against Silaise’s previous blood-mage dynasty. King Imrik is well aware of that. Marek has a feeling Lady Naoko wasn’t, if she agreed to Marek claiming her son in Vana’s place.
Behind Marek, Aliza says cheerfully, “Welcome to Ostomar, Sei. Your mother said so many lovely things about you.”
Sei’s answer is quiet, polite. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m glad to be here.”
“Poor thing, you must be exhausted,” Aliza says. “Don’t worry, this won’t take long.”
Marek’s glad they’re behind him, because the tension in his jaw would surely scare Sei even more. He can’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. But if he has to obey, he’d rather his mother not be so fucking cheerful about it.
At least Kazia is quiet.
Ostomar’s wide hallways seem narrower than they are. Chandeliers hang low, and dark gargoyles loom in alcoves. Murals tell fragmented histories of Draskora through the lens of House Dire’s magnificence. Marek tunes out Aliza’s conversation with Sei until they reach the throne room.
Sunset streams through the stained-glass windows, golden light transmuted into blues and violets. A great stone dragon twists in flight behind the scalestone throne, illuminated by white-blazing torches. The queen’s smaller throne sits beside it. Usually, the thrones are the only bright spot, the rest of the room left in eerie blue. Today, more lamps have been set out, widening the circle of bright light to include a table before the thrones.
Behind the table stands the chief herald, a woman so pale and tranquil she appears transparent. She may as well be invisible when not speaking for the crown. No doubt that’s why Imrik promoted her. The herald presides over the table’s contents: two ink trays with bottles and quills, and a long piece of parchment pinned to an angled onyx stand.
The attending drasgard file into place around the room, blending with the shadows. Imrik already sits on the scalestone throne, and Aliza leads Sei to the right side of the table before taking her own throne. Osric remains at Sei’s side until Sei touches his black-tipped ear. Then Osric retreats a few paces away.
The final witness is Kazia, who glares balefully from the edge of the lamplit circle. His lavender hair looks blue, shrouded in the dim light. The glare is unpleasant, but at least he’s not laughing at Marek’s predicament.
And that’s the grand total of witnesses. In Clan Helra, the home Marek still carries in his name, betrothal is a rowdy, joyful affair. So many couples like to wait for the solstice that every festival becomes a series of public proposals and happy claims. Then there are the pretend raids to claim lovers from neighboring clans. Everything is loud and public, and Marek never understood the fuss of it until now—
With the realization he won’t get that joyful celebration.
Doesn’t matter. This isn’t a real betrothal. I’ll get out of it somehow.
With the confidence and wariness he carries into battle, Marek steps up to the table at Sei’s side. He can’t remember the traditional words for Draskoran noble claims—but that’s fine. He’ll improvise if he has to.
Turns out he doesn’t have to. The chief herald bows to the king, her ice-white hair not budging from its pins, then turns to face Marek and Sei. “Today we witness a betrothal contract. Marek Helra Dire has already offered and asked his promise by proxy. Sei Mallory has already accepted the offer by his own proxy. You may clasp arms, then sign the contract.”
Gritting his teeth, Marek prepares to go through these motions as mechanically as possible. But Sei is suddenly so close.
