Page 41 of Dragon Heir

“I noticed you got my gift,” Sinetar says, ignoring my guards entirely. “You looked ravishing in it.”

For half a second, I don’t know what he’s talking about, and then the evening flashes through my mind. Queen’s Day. His apology note. The dress made of gems—probably real gems, now that I think about it. Sinetar appearing in that alleyway, then pushing me under the bar.

“I did get it, and thank you,” I say, smiling back at him. “Though I would have accepted your apology without the gift. Thank you for the dress, though, and for saving my life.”

“Let’s get moving,” True says in a flat, hard voice. “We have a lot more of the palace to show you.”

“I would like to speak with Master Sinetar in private.”

Only Sinetar is happy with this arrangement, and True all but flatly refuses my idea, claiming it’s a violation of his right to protect me from all parties. To this, Sinetar lazily points out that I’m the heir to the dragon throne and can have whatever I like.

I give True an awkward, apologetic glance, since I would never pull rank on him like that. But before I can say a word, Sinetar grips my waist in the most presumptuous manner and pulls me through an exit onto a stone veranda overlooking a view that I could never have imagined in my eighteen years of life in the village. Snow topped mountains stretch out, ridge after ridge, as far as the eye can see. Snow clings to pine boughs, glittering like the gems in True’s dragon form.

Yet somehow I’m not cold standing here next to Sinetar. Wind whips around us, but it seems to miss us entirely. Our footsteps echo as we near the edge of the balcony made of swirling chocolate-and-gold stone. Above, the moon and stars shine down, bathing the world in an unearthly glow.

“They won’t be able to hear us here.” Sinetar stops and turns to watch me, almost warily, as we stand there. He’s beautiful as ever, and I can’t help but notice how young he looks and how old he seems.

“Is this some kind of trap?” I ask quietly, hoping Sinetar will hear me, but the dragons who are watching us from the windows won’t.

His dark brows shoot up his forehead. “Trap?”

“I mean, am I going to get coronated and then be stuck here for the next thousand years, like the queen?”

He rubs his chin, making a scratchy sound on the stubble. “That was her decision. It doesn’t have to be yours. You’ll be queen. You can do whatever you like.”

“Anything I want?”

Professor—apparently Master—Sinetar gives me a sideward glance. “Within reason, of course,” he says. “You may do anything befitting a queen.”

I roll my eyes. “Professor. I’m so unqueenly it’s not even funny. I’ve never done anything befitting a queen in my life.”

“Your life has only just begun.”

“And yours?” I ask. “How old are you?”

He stares up at the stars. “Over a thousand years.”

“Okay then,” I say, my head spinning with that knowledge. “If you’re my guide, can you give me a quick rundown of what befits a queen?”

“Anything in particular you’re worried about?” he asks with a cocked eyebrow.

“No,” I say. “Anything you’ve got. I don’t know how to do this whole queen business.”

“First of all, it wouldn’t hurt to stop calling it that,” he says. “You’re ruling a kingdom. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”

“You’re right,” I say, feeling like a child who’s been scolded for speaking during an adult conversation. “It’s just a big change. I haven’t come to grips with the reality of it all just yet.”

“It’s refreshing, to be honest,” he says, his fingers skimming down my bare arm and making me shiver with heat. “You may speak to me as you wish in private, which is hard to come by as a royal. Always remember, Vynessa, there is a spare here at court. You have a sister. But the only way she could become queen is if you were to die.”

The very idea hits me in the gut and sinks deep inside me. Pax wasn’t warning me to watch my tongue about my duty as queen so I’d be considered respectful and polite. He was warning me to watch what I say because the dragon court might replace me if they don’t think I’m jolly-go-princess, happy to serve.

And what would they do with me then, if I’m unfit to be queen? Throw me back out in the world to be murdered by this Sun King like the other heirs?

I shiver at the thought.

The wind whips around us, sending flags and banners cracking in the wind. The windows behind us moan, and the gale howls, but I still don’t feel a thing.

“Are you doing that?” I ask after a minute.