Page 50 of Wild Flame

“Leida!” Zara called and waved me over to a seat by her. Leif took up a stance nearby, apparently preferring not to sit. His dragon stood at his feet. Several other riders had their dragons with them as well.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Zara asked as I took the seat beside her. Mesmera was perched primly on her shoulder, those large yellow eyes taking in all the activity around her. The queen sat on her other side, while the other seat beside me was empty. It was strange to see everyone dressed in vibrant colors again, particularly the queen, who had been wearing all-white since the day I arrived.

I smiled at both of them. “I’ll be honest. I’m not sure about everything the games entail,” I admitted.

Zara grinned wider. “Obviously, this is my first games, but the main purpose is the warrior presentation.”

“Warrior presentation?” I asked.

Zara nodded and turned to the row of seats behind us where two members of Malik’s Fangdar sat. “Harun, you could probably explain it better.”

I turned partially to look back at him.

The rider stroked his pointed beard between his thumb and forefinger while answering in a no nonsense manner, which I guessed was typical of him. “When a new monarch is preparing to be crowned, he selects the finest warriors in the kingdom to be his personal guard, known as his Talonar. They will also guard his queen and any children that The Maiden may bless them with,” he explained. “The Coronation Games are where the warriors demonstrate their skill and cunning.”

“It is a great honor to be chosen,” Tajan added, speaking for the first time. “Much like when Malik chose us to be his Fangdar. The crown prince chooses his Fangdar after he passes the dragon rider trials, and he picks his Talonar when he becomes king.”

Truly fascinated by the concept, I asked, “What if the leader is too young or hasn’t yet passed the trials when they become king or queen?”

“Then the previous monarch’s Fangdar and Talonar protect and advise them until they come of age,” Tajan answered.

“And what if the firstborn isn’t a dragon rider?” I asked.

To my surprise, it was Rajar Salim who answered from where he sat a few seats down from the men. He looked at me with a hard stare. “That does not happen.”

I frowned. “But surely, in your history, there has been an heir who—”

“That does not happen,” he said again with firm disdain. “Heirs of the Kathar line are always riders. Always.”

A stone settled in my gut at his words. My personal insecurities reared their ugly heads inside me. I couldn’t help but wonder what Malik would do if his firstborn was not a dragon rider.

I did not have long to dwell on it though, because just then, an announcer with an amplifying stone around his neck came to stand in the center of the arena floor. The black obsidian had been temporarily covered with sand. He raised his arms high before his voice boomed out, “People of Zehvi, on behalf of Prince Malik, it is my great honor to welcome you to the Coronation Games!”

An answering cheer went up from the crowd. I watched in fascination as dozens of Zehvitian warriors emerged from several tunnel entrances around the arena, and the preliminary events unfolded. Over an hour passed as feats of strength, archery, races, and sword fights played out all over the arena floor.

“They’re all so young,” I commented, noting that the warriors all appeared to be between their first and second decade.

“These are the warriors in training,” Harun explained. “The presentation with the experienced warriors takes place later.”

Just then, a loud curse rang out and those around us turned towards the source.

Prince Amir had arrived and was stumbling his way forward to where we were all seated. His dark clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, and his eyes were red and bloodshot.

“Where have you been?” the queen asked her son. Her expression remained a polite mask, but her exasperation was obvious in her tone.

“Don’t worry, Mother,” Amir assured sardonically, as he dropped down in the empty seat beside me. A servant offered him a goblet of wine from a tray. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Virath followed behind him and sat beside his chair, the dusky blue dragon’s eyes cunning and alert.

I could tell the queen was still upset, but she refrained from saying anything more, likely because she didn’t see the point. Or she didn’t want to reprimand her son in public.

Zara had no such reservations. “Is it really so hard to show up on time?” she hissed.

I tried to sink unnoticed into my chair as the prince reached across me to chuck her under the chin. “Oh, don’t be cross with me, Zar. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

She shot him a very sisterly glare in response, and he grinned.

It was only then that Amir seemed to notice I was sitting between them.

“Well, hello there, Princess.” His grinned widened. “If I had known you would be attending, I might have made an effort to arrive sooner.”

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