Page 9 of Wild Flame

I heard the princess shout for her guards, but I was already out the doors and launching myself over the balcony. I missed my handhold, nearly falling before catching hold of the vine at the last second with my other hand. My heart beat through my chest as I scrambled down. I made it across the yard in seconds and up and over the perimeter wall in another. Just as I reached the ground on the outer side, an enraged roar split the sky, and I knew my time had run out.

I went motionless, shrinking into the shadows along the wall. The approaching shape of the dragon blocked out the stars. Wings spread wide, a glimmer of violet scales caught the moonlight against the inky backdrop as she lowered down into the garden—no doubt to pick up her rider.

The ground shook as the dragon touched down and shouts came from the house. I caught sight of several guards streaming from the villa. The dragon was momentarily distracted, and I knew this was my only chance to get away. I didn’t waste it.

I rushed silently along the foot of the wall before darting across the street into an alley between two smaller townhomes.

I didn’t allow myself to think about what I had just done—or rather,notdone. How I had failed, betrayed my vow, and what that would mean.

Using the darkness to my advantage, I ran.

Chapter Four

The heat was sweltering, and the heavy weight of my dress wasn’t helping. Hilde had apparently packed the least comfortable dress I owned for this and not considered the climate when she chose it. Elegant, but impractical for a late Zehvitian summer, the thick wool gown was high-necked, long-sleeved, and a deep blue trimmed in silver. Almost all my clothing was some variation of the two colors, because gods forbid, I wore anything other than Halmarish colors.

My long hair had been partially braided back on one side and Astrid had woven silvery threads throughout the red-brown strands. I rather liked the contrast it gave to the look and had complimented her on the idea. Astrid had blushed profusely at the praise and bowed while Hilde harrumphed loudly.

IfIhad gotten to choose my attire, I would have just worn my chemise. It was completely inappropriate for the occasion, but at least it would allow for a breeze. Even better would be a dip in the Vyre Sea or one of the cool, wintery lakes of my homeland.

But no, instead I was here, standing outside the doors of the audience chamber inside Ashar Palace, waiting to be announced.Ambassador Nilfren stood beside me, while Leif was only a step behind. Leif wasn’t royalty or anyone with noble or political standing, but he was a dragon rider and would be presented with us. Several of my guards shadowed us as well.

The Baldorian delegation had entered just before us, and all around the entrance hall Zehvitian nobles milled about waiting their turn. Several guards stood near each of the leaders, some wearing brightly colored sashes and turbans and black, gold, or silver armor. Almost all bore the wickedly sharp, curved sai blades that Zehvitians were famous for. Servants scurried around completing various tasks and almost all wore clothing in more subdued styles and colors. Nothing like the vibrant reds, oranges, yellows, and even pinks, blues, and greens of those they served. I also noted that elaborate designs—usually in gold—were the standard for most fabrics. Copious amounts of jewelry adorned the necks, wrists, ankles, and hands of men and women alike. Most of them also boasted several piercings in their ears and some even had them in their lips, noses, or eyebrows. My mother had always said it was an ugly, ridiculous fashion, but I thought many of them were actually rather beautiful. Though many of the fashions were admittedly a bit much for my simpler tastes.

My eyes were drawn to one woman in particular, who was dressed in an elegant, pale green, midriff-baring style. Zehvitian people were known for their exotic beauty, and this woman was no exception. An older imposing man stood at her side, most likely her father if I had to guess, and was obviously a dragon rider as he wore mahogany dragonscale armor. He glanced over at me as I studied him. He frowned darkly when he met my stare.

I looked away quickly, but not before I caught sight of his dragon glaring at me as well from where it sat by his feet. Several other dragons flitted about the hall, all in their minor forms, most staying close to their riders. Even as I thought this,Wormoth flew over and alighted on Leif’s shoulder. I had no idea where the smaller male dragon had been. Leif shot me a reassuring look, and I smiled back at him. When he glanced away, I sighed and pulled at the itchy collar of my gown, wanting nothing more than to rip it off.

I had to admit that though it was hot—so hot I felt like I was in the depths of the Dark Realms—my surroundingswerebeautiful. When we had first caught a glimpse of Taveran on the horizon, the city—and Ashar Palace itself—had taken my breath away. After several days of travelling through the arid landscape, the entire capital looked like a glimmering jewel in the midst of the desert. Everything was built using a combination of white rock and sandstone, and the palace was no exception. It sat high on a hill in the heart of the city and was a massive structure made up of rounded, domed turrets, and multitiered levels with balconies and trellises. I had even caught a brief glimpse of The Sphere of Ashar, an ancient portion of the palace that was touted to be one of the most beautiful architectural marvels of our world. I couldn’t wait to see it up close but would have to wait since it would be closed during the funeral rites.

Much of the palace was open to the outside with breezeways and walkways covered only by tiled roofs, and several of the inner courtyards I had seen since arriving boasted fountains and pools lined with intricate mosaic tiles.

To my surprise and delight, greenery and plant life were everywhere. Exotic flowers and trees I had never seen lined the pathways and grew from hanging pots, the bright colors a beautiful contrast to the pale stone of the palace. Wild vines had even been left to grow along many of the walls, while colorful murals or engravings covered others.

It was all so different from Nevgard and the stark, severe lines of the castle where I had grown up. I loved my home, and parts of my kingdom were truly stunning, but I couldn’t help but feelthat much of it seemed pale and simplistic in comparison to my lush surroundings.

I pulled again at my choking collar.

“Are you well, Your Highness?” Ambassador Nilfren asked.

I blinked, coming out of my musings, and turned to the man beside me. “Fine,” I told him as a bead of sweat slid down my back under my gown. “Just taking in the scenery. It’s rather different from home.”

His gaze darted around. “Yes, but don’t worry, you will get used to the rather garish décor. Much like the Zehvitian people, though rather loud and abrasive at first, they do have their virtues. Their wine, for instance, is beyond compare. It will make all this standing around worth it.”

His words surprised me, though perhaps they shouldn’t have given some of the earlier comments he’d made while teaching me about Zehvi. Since he was my father’s ambassador and lived here for much of the year, I would have thought he would be more open-minded and willing to embrace their customs, but apparently that assumption was wrong. He sounded just like my mother—and most other Halmarish—when they spoke of this country.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued before I could.

“When we are presented to the prince, it would be best for you not to speak unless you absolutely must. We both know you are not well acquainted with political matters.” He gave me a patronizing pat on the arm. “Best to leave the diplomatic maneuvering to me, Princess.”

A familiar anger flared in me at his dismissal, but like I so often did, I bit back the retort that came readily to my tongue.

When I said nothing, Nilfren simply nodded as if he hadn’t truly expected me to anyway. “Good. That’s settled. You just stand there and look beautiful.” He flashed me a saccharinesmile that I’m sure he thought was charming. I felt more than saw Leif stiffen where he stood. “Do try to smile though,” Nilfren added with a frown. “You can’t very well make a good impression on the prince if you are scowling at him.”

I wasn’t scowling. I knew very well my expression was the well-crafted and serene public mask I had perfected over the years.

One of the stewards motioned to our guards that it was finally our turn. Nilfren clasped my hand over his arm to escort me. I fought the urge to yank it away as the grand doors swung open and I was greeted with the sight of the palace’s massive audience chamber. As I took it all in, I was only vaguely aware of a steward’s heavily accented voice speaking in the common tongue, announcing our party and titles to the room. The common tongue was used everywhere in Palasia, but I knew many of the more remote desert tribes here still spoke some of the ancient Zehvitian dialects as well.

Elaborately decorated golden pillars lined the throne room on either side of a long center aisle, leading directly to the dais at the far end of the hall. Between each pillar were wide, filigreed arches that led the eye up to the massive domed ceiling above. Portions of the dome were glass, and sunlight shone down into the space, highlighting the golden veins in the white marble floor, and panes of the multiple candlelit chandeliers. People filled the room, standing under the archways or by the recessed windows with red silk drapes and cushioned seats that lined either side of the rectangular hall. The path to the throne had been left purposely clear, however, and as we began the trek down to the end, I could feel many eyes on us.

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