Page 41 of Song of the Dragon Rider
I winked at her and closed the curtain.
The carriage gently jerked into motion and the journey towards Dragon Valley and the palace awaited. The ride would take us through the quieter parts of the Northern District, past bustling markets and through the serene countryside.
“So, what should I expect from this banquet?” I asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us. “Besides the usual stiff formalities and too many speeches?”
Jacob chuckled, his demeanor relaxing slightly. “Well, the emperor loves to showcase the achievements of the Nightwing battalion, so expect a lot of toasts and possibly a few demonstrations. It's as much a political event as it is a celebration.”
“Sounds thrilling,” I remarked dryly, watching the scenery blur past the small carriage window.
“It can be... if you know where to look and who to listen to,” Jacob replied, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “There's always an undercurrent of intrigue at these events. Alliances are formed, secrets are exchanged. It’s a game, really.”
“And here I am, barely knowing the rules,” I mused aloud.
“You'll learn,” he assured me. “Tonight is a good opportunity to observe and perhaps participate a little. Besides, I'll be there to guide you. As a woman, you don’t have to worry much about these things, Arya.”
I nodded and wanted to roll my eyes so hard, but I wisely refrained. As the carriage rolled on, winding its way across the grandeur of the Northern District, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Tonight, I might just find the key to unraveling more than one kind of mystery.
The carriage rolledto a stop in front of Dragon Valley’s grand palace. The impressive structure loomed large against the night sky, its turrets and spires outlined by the soft glow of lanterns that peppered its facade. Unlike the luncheon, we stopped at an entrance that led directly to the grand ballroom. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the palace gardens, mingling with the more robust aromas of roasted meats and spiced wine emanating from within.
Jacob and I stepped out of the carriage and were immediately greeted by a palace steward who bowed deeply and ushered us towards the ballroom. Heavy doors opened to reveal a scene of opulence and meticulous orchestration. The vast space boasted high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes depicting the historic battles and triumphs of Dragon Valley. Gilded chandeliers hung from above, their crystals flinging prismatic light across the room, illuminating the faces of the assembled guests.
The murmur of dozens of conversations filled the air, a soft cacophony occasionally punctuated by the clear, high notes of a string quartet and a singer positioned near a balcony. The music was elegant, weaving throughout the crowd past silken drapes that framed the room's expansive windows.
The marble checkerboard floor was polished to a high sheen, reflecting the room's grandeur. As we made our way through thecrowd, the cloying scent of fresh lilies and roses was pervasive, blending with the less delicate but equally enticing smell of the banquet laid out on silver platters along one side of the room.
I noticed the attendees were a combination of military personnel in uniform, like Jacob, and courtiers in their finest attire. Their clothes rustled and shimmered as they moved, the women's gowns flowing gracefully while the men adjusted cuffs and collars in a show of subtle preening. Their faces were a study in diplomacy and intrigue; smiles were polite yet measured, and eyes were keen, missing nothing.
As we moved deeper into the room, Jacob leaned closer and murmured, “Remember, everyone here plays a part. Watch, listen, and learn who holds the power and who seeks it.”
His words were a reminder of the delicate dance of court life, where every gesture and word held layers of meaning. I nodded, my senses heightened to the undercurrents of the event, ready to observe and absorb the evening's subtle dynamics.
As the orchestra eased into a gentler melody, the rich strings tugging subtly at the heartstrings of everyone in the grand ballroom, Jacob leaned closer, his voice barely above the swell of music. “I see one of my comrades from the border; I must catch up with him for a moment. Will you be alright on your own for a bit?”
“Of course.” I nodded and tried to mirror his casual demeanor despite the fluttering in my stomach. “I'll just take in the sights.”
With a reassuring smile, Jacob briefly clasped my shoulder before making a beeline toward a group of uniformed men and women gathered near a wide marble pillar. Their hearty laughs and clinking glasses filled the air as they welcomed him back.
Left to navigate the sea of glittering gowns and sharp tuxedos alone, I wandered closer to one of the tall, arched windows that framed the palace gardens. The delicate fragrance of bloomingnight jasmine wafted in, mingling with the heavier scents of perfume and spiced wine that dominated the air. Cool breezes from the gardens cut through the warm, perfumed air of the ballroom. I glanced over at Jacob, now deep in conversation with his comrades, his animated gestures a stark contrast to my stillness. He seemed so at ease in this world of polished smiles and unspoken power struggles, while I still felt like an imposter.
Because I was.
My thoughts were interrupted by the soft hum of nearby voices. Just to my left, tucked behind one of the marble columns, was a small alcove where a cluster of royals—judging by their exquisite attire and the deference shown by passersby—stood in hushed conversation. I shifted slightly and pretended to admire the gardens while angling myself to hear them better. Jacob’s words echoed in my mind:Watch, listen, and learn.
“… the borders are strained,” one man said, his voice low and clipped. His sharp features and hawkish demeanor gave him the air of someone who relished control. “The fae skirmishes are becoming bolder. If we don’t bolster the outposts, we risk a full incursion.”
Fae skirmishes? I thought they were sequestered in Faelight Forest?
Another voice, softer but carrying undeniable authority, responded. “We’ve already sent reinforcements,” the woman said. Her voice was like velvet wrapped around steel. “But the fae don’t act without reason, since most of their people are trapped in Faelight Forest. We need to determine what’s provoking them before we escalate. War with the fae would be catastrophic, especially if they find a way to be freed.”
“Catastrophic for whom?” the man countered, his tone laced with subtle defiance. “The crown can’t afford to look weak. If we don’t respond with force, the other kingdoms will see us as vulnerable.”
“And yet, the fae could be reacting to something we’ve done,” the woman shot back, her calm voice cutting through his posturing. “You think they don’t notice the mining operations encroaching on their territories? The treaties we’ve conveniently forgotten? We can’t burn a bridge we’re still standing on.”
I frowned as I pretended to sip from a wine glass I’d snagged from a passing tray, my ears straining to catch every word.
The fae? Mining operations? This wasn’t the kind of casual court gossip I expected to overhear. It sounded like a brewing crisis, one tied to the kingdom’s very survival.
A third voice joined in, this one colder, with a quiet menace that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Crown Prince Thorne. “Enough!” he growled. And even though he hadn’t raised his voice, the weight of it silenced the others. It was completely different from what I’d known him to be like. “The fae will not dictate how we govern. The outposts will hold. If they falter, we’ll do what’s necessary to secure our borders. And if the fae want war, they’ll regret crossing us.”
