Page 39 of Song of the Dragon Rider
Islept most of the early afternoon away. Luckily, Jacob told the servants and Maeve not to wake me so I could rest for tonight’s banquet. When I awoke, I found a bowl of steaming porridge at my bedside, which I devoured even though it tasted like flavorless oatmeal. This place seriously lacked seasoning. I would even settle for black pepper at this point. Anything.
There was a knock on my door as I ate my last spoonful. “My lady?” Maeve called out.
“Come in!”
The door opened and Maeve entered with a slight bow. “You’ll need to start getting ready soon, my lady. I’ve prepared a bath for you—”
“I need you to do me a favor,” I cut her off. “I need you to get a message to Damien… or at least to his uncle, the Royal Prince.”
Maeve’s eyes widened. “My lady!” she gasped. “It’s next to impossible to get on Obsidian Reach. There are hundreds of guards watching over the third prince, and a raven will be shot down if a guard sees it flying over the island.”
“We need to find a way.” I nibbled my lower lip. “He needs to know I’ll be at the palace tonight.”
“Then a message to the Royal Prince is our better option, my lady.”
I nodded. “Here.” I handed the already written letter. “Go to the Royal Prince’s mansion in the Northern District and see if he’s there. He might be getting ready for the banquet. Tell him this is urgent, and it needs to be read by Damien as soon as possible. If Royal Prince Bai is not there, have one of his servants send it to the island. They have access.”
Maeve bowed. “Yes, my lady, I’ll go right now,” She quickly left the room, her footsteps light and hurried.
Alone again, I stood and stretched, feeling the stiffness of a long sleep fade from my muscles. As much as I loathed the forced decorum of my current life, tonight's banquet was not just another social event—it was a battlefield. One where I had to play a role that was both shield and sword, guarding the secrets of my true identity and fighting against the currents that vigorously sought to pull me under.
I made my way to the bath that Maeve had prepared. The room was filled with the calming scent of lavender and mint, a soft mist hovering in the air from the steaming water. The tub itself was a simple ceramic affair, large enough to stretch out in, but devoid of the luxurious embellishments one might expect in a noble house. It was a painful reminder of how far the Ryder finances had fallen.
As I sank into the warm embrace of perfumed bathwater, my thoughts drifted to Damien. The complexity of our relationship—or whatever it was—was something I still hadn't managed to unravel. On one hand, we shared an undeniable connection, a pull that went beyond mere physical attraction. On the other, there were lies, manipulations, and the undeniable fact that we were from two vastly different worlds.
How did I go from wanting to kill him to… hell, I didn’t even want to finish that sentence.
I glanced down at my tatted arm and inspected the tattoo that had brought on all this chaos: a dragon and phoenix intertwined in flames. When I dreamt it, I thought it was so cool at the time and called my tattoo artist right away. I didn’t want to forget it. That same night, I got it done. Was Damien right? Was I curious about why I dreamed this tattoo? Was I meant to come to Elaria?
I shook my head and dunked my head beneath the water, staying submerged until I ran out of breath. Vaulting back up to the surface, I brushed my hair back and took a deep breath. “No. No way. I can’t feed into the nonsense. I don’t believe in fate,” I murmured and then started to laugh. “Fate and destiny are for suckers, and I, for one, am no sucker.”
Right as I settled back into the soothing warmth of a bath filled with scented oils, my peace was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. “It's open,” I called out, assuming it was Maeve with some additional towels or perhaps an update on the message. Instead, the door swung open to reveal Gianna, her expression masked in a practiced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Gianna.” I tried to hide my surprise as I clutched a washcloth a bit more tightly to my chest beneath the foamy surface. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing,sister,” she said, emphasizing the last word. She walked closer to the tub, her gaze flitting over the array of bath products lined neatly on the stool beside the tub. Nothing befitting a lady of supposed noble standing, a silent testament to our family's dwindling wealth.
“I'm doing just fine,” I replied, maintaining a calm exterior while internally bracing for the underlying tension that seemed to always thread our conversations.
Her eyes narrowed on my arm. “What’s that?” She pointed to my exposed tattoos and I sunk deeper into the tub to hide them.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” I smiled tightly. “What do you want?”
Gianna narrowed her eyes as if she wanted to press. Instead, she perched on the edge of the tub, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of the porcelain. “It’s quite an event tonight, isn’t it? Jacob taking you to the banquet. I must admit, I was a bit surprised he chose you over me this time. You’re usually not qualified to attend, even as the legitimate daughter.”
I ignored the dig. “Jacob thinks it might do me some good to get out.” I opted for a neutral response, avoiding the deeper waters of our rivalry. “You know, after myaccidentand all.”
“Yes, that tragic accident,” Gianna said softly, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. Probably because that accident was meant for her and not me. “You've changed so much since then, Arya. Or should I say... improved?”
I met her gaze in the mirror, my expression unwavering. “Change can be good, Gianna. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. “I worry about you, out at these events, mingling with people who might not understand your... delicate condition. It’s a lot for someone sofragile.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll manage,” I assured her, my tone polite yet distant. “Jacob will be with me, and I’m sure he wouldn’t let anything happen to his little sister.”
Gianna stood, smoothing the front of her dress as she prepared to leave. “Just remember, Arya, not everyone is as forgiving as family. Be careful tonight,” she warned, her voice soft but carrying an edge that hinted at deeper threats.
She was up to something; I just didn’t knowwhat.
“Gianna?” She froze mid-step and peered over her shoulder at me. “You know, I’m not the only one who has changed.”
