Page 33 of Wild Flame

Leif shifted slightly obviously uncomfortable to be discussing this. “He might be charming, but Prince Malik has . . . areputation, and you have little experience with—"

“Stop,” I commanded. My face flushed with anger or embarrassment, I wasn’t sure. “Just stop. My experience, or lack thereof, had no bearing on last night. Nothing happened. Not that anything that happens between Mal—the prince—and I is any of your concern.”

“It is my concern.” His voice was measured. “Because I am your friend, and I care about you, and I would be remiss in my duty to your father if I did not caution you against—”

“I don’t need to be protected from Prince Malik,” I interrupted him. “And I certainly don’t need you tocaution me against him.”

We stared at each other as silence reigned in the room. Then Leif glanced away and shook his head once before he stood and dipped his head formally to me. “As you say, Princess. If you will excuse me.”

His use of the formal address stung, as did the fact that he didn’t look back as he turned and left. Wormoth following behind him.

I pushed my plate away and stared out the window into the gardens. Frustration boiled through me. I knew Leif’s heart was in the right place, but I had spent nearly my entire life being told what to do. And now that I was experiencing a slight taste of freedom, I resented being admonished like I couldn’t make my own decisions. It reminded me too much of what my life was like in Halmar. And maybe that terrified me a bit—the thought of losing the small bit of self that I had gained since I had come here.

Glancing back at the breakfast table, I began running my finger through the condensation at the side of my now weeping glass.

And if I was being fair, when it came to Malik, Leif truly hadn’t been that far off the mark. Nothing had happened with him last night, but italmosthad.

And you wanted it to,I thought. Had I? I wasn’t sure. Mostly because I had no idea what it would mean. Malik was all but promised to another, and yet he was spending so much time with me. Did he simply like teasing me? Was Leif right, and he was simply playing me? I truly had no idea. I had little experience with men and courting, but part of me still seriously doubted that he was pursuing me with any real intent. Why would he? My father would have more to gain in the event of a marriage alliance than Zehvi would, so I doubted it was for political reasons. And there were plenty of other women here—riders even—who were beautiful and who were eager for Malik’s attentions, while I rebuffed him at every turn.

And yet . . . my mind drifted once more to last night and the look in his eyes when he nearly kissed me. My heart started beating faster at the mere memory.

Chapter Thirteen

My attention was fixed to the mirror before me as I watched Astrid twist my braided hair up into a delicate chignon at the back of my head. My new maid, I had come to learn, was incredibly gifted with hairstyling. She made it look effortless, making my braids and updos look more feminine and flattering than Hilde had ever managed.

“Priya is the favorite,” Astrid was saying, as she pulled a few wisps free to frame my face. She had befriended several of the other ladies’ maids and had been repeating all the court gossip she had overheard. She was currently on to one of her favorite topics: whom she believed Prince Malik would choose as his bride. Apparently, it was tradition in Zehvi for a new unmarried monarch to announce whom they intended to wed at their coronation ceremony. A coronation ceremony that would happen a week after the previous king was laid to rest. “But she is by no means the only one vying for the prince’s hand,” Astrid explained. “Every single territory will have a daughter or niece or cousin from their ruling families in the race, hoping to catch hiseye. But Tika, one of the other maids, told me that she doesn’t think her prince will be interested in such women.”

“Why ever not?” Hilde asked in confusion as she laid out my midnight blue gown for tonight on the bed. Hilde had been acting as if she could not care less about what Astrid was saying this entire time, although I had noticed she was listening rather intently. It surprised me that she would even deign to ask and admit her interest.

Astrid’s face grew more animated, and she changed her voice to imitate the other woman as she replied, “‘Because our prince is like his dragon. There is fire in his soul. And dragons like a challenge.’ She doesn’t believe he will be interested in such easy prey. He can have his pick of women in the kingdom, and he knows it. The woman he chooses to declare his Hassai will have to be a very special woman indeed.” Her gaze met mine in the mirror and she shrugged. “Perhaps this lady will not even be aware she has caught his attention.”

“Perhaps she is aware of his attention, but simply does not want it?” I countered.

Astrid giggled as she fixed a stray curl. “That seems unlikely. What woman would not want the attentions of a future king?” She sighed rather dreamily, and I couldn’t help but be reminded how young she still was. “Especially one who looks like Prince Malik.” Astrid blushed profusely at her own daring and then ducked her head at Hilde’s glaring disapproval.

“Who, indeed?” I said, patting my hair as I rose to my feet, trying to put Astrid at ease.

Who indeed?

At the banquet that night, I was seated next to the Baldorian delegation and somehow found myself deep in conversation with Councilor Zadeth, one of the three heads of their Dragon Rider Council. She was shrewd and possessed a quick wit, and I found I liked the older woman immensely. I was disappointed to learn she was leaving Zehvi after the king’s funeral and that another member of the council was coming to replace her for the coronation.

During a lull in the conversation, the councilor turned to ask Leif a question. He sat across from us and had barely spoken all night. This wasn't unusual, but things had been strained between us since our conversation about Malik. But I wasn’t going to apologize for what I had said, and I wasn’t changing my mind.

Malik.The name was like a tantalizing summer breeze in my mind.

I told myself I wouldn’t, but for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, I let my eyes wander over to the table where Malik held court with his stepmother, Zara, Priya, and several members of his Fangdar. Amir, and Priya’s father, Salim, had slipped out some time ago, but Priya, of course, was right by Malik’s side, laughing prettily at everything he said. She kept leaning into him and placing her hand on his arm as she spoke. I couldn’t help thinking of the conversation I had had earlier with my maids. The two of themwerea striking pair. My chest suddenly grew tight at the thought. I knew I had no right to be upset. Malik wasn’t mine and never could be.

My thoughts drifted to the other night standing outside my door.You have a flame . . . a spirit inside you . . .

Just then, Malik’s dark eyes flicked to me and caught me staring. My heart leapt in my chest and I quickly looked away.

“Will you be taking part in the Unari celebrations, Your Highness?”

Councilor Zadeth’s words jolted me back to the conversation at hand. “I’m sorry?” I said sheepishly.

The old rider smiled. “Unari. The Zehvitian holiday,” she elaborated. “Two days from now. Do you plan to attend the celebrations?”

“Oh, I hadn’t decided,” I admitted, though I actually had. Once Nilfren had explained to me that the celebration was also known as The Night of Burning and apparently involved bonfires being lit throughout the entire city. After hearing that, I had no intention of attending the festivities. I would be avoiding it at all costs. My current plan was to beg off with a headache and curl up with a good book. In my experience, few celebrations or outings could compare with a good book, a warm drink, and a soft blanket.

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