Page 113 of To Touch A Silent Fury
In my own head. To myself.
She laughed.Then stop thinking so loudly.
None of the women said anything I found remotely interesting. In part, I knew that was a fault of my own. My own hobbies: foreign cultures, my dragon, and sparring, weren’t of interest to half the men I spoke to, let alone these young women. But I wasn’t trying to marry them.
I wasn’t trying to marry anyone.
As we turned, I kept my eyes on the open doors to the hallway. Almost all the guests had arrived. I knew exactly who I was looking for, and so did Chaethor. I’d given up trying to hide my fascination with Tanidwen from her. She knew me too well.
What unnerved me was the other set of eyes pinned to the door.
The Wragg awaited her arrival as keenly as I did. I had hoped I had deterred him, but my brother seemed keen to make her his new toy at all costs. I trusted her to look after herself, but I wouldn’t let him ruin her life, as I had once done.
My left hand was clammy when we stepped apart. I gave Elissa a lingering bow and pressed my mouth to her knuckles with enough care to raise some whispers. Speculation of my interest might keep the wolf from my back for a week or two. She blushed, and her answering curtsy was entirely perfect.
I spun away and found a seat at the edge of the festivities, plucking a sun-warmed ciante from one of our servants as I passed. I gulped down its contents and contemplated findinganother immediately, but I needed a fair head tonight. Besides, Lady Bellandric and her mother were standing far too close to the nearest server.
No, I would remain here, for as long as the world would let me. Foxlin would drink enough for both of us. He was already dancing with one of the ladies I’d snubbed at the luncheon the other day. I don't even know why she had offended me. She was very pretty, in a fawnish sort of way. A Tastelander, and willing to laugh, which I admired. But her hair was a lurid orange, and I had found myself wishing it was white, or dark brown.
Tanidwen had infected me.
I knew her disguise as Vorska forced her to be civil, even kind to me, but it threw me so entirely each time. Days ago, when we met on the stairs, she looked at me in such a way that I nearly reached for her. And yet all she had been was polite, so unerringly polite it caught me off guard once more. A different girl to the one in the garden. I could not get the image of her out of my head. Of all the lewd imagery I had been subjected to over the years, and the women whose company I had paid for, it washerwho was stuck there when I shut my eyes. Even in her plain clothes, holding a bowl of meat.
Two loud claps startled me, and I raised my head. My father had stepped out into the gardens, escorted by my cousin, Septillis, and two of his Royal Guard. He waved, and those around me erupted into heartfelt applause. The noise was meant, for everyone adores a ball, and many had already had a few drinks. I joined in, though more out of obligation, stomping my feet and hitting the table.
Braxthorn soaked it in as he scanned the gardens. He found me and gave me a meaningful look. Fucking great.
I stood and wandered over to stand a few feet away from him as he raised a hand and the guests quieted.
“Settle down, all,” he said, his voice a rich baritone that still commanded the room despite his diminishing frame. “I won’t halt your merriment for long.”
My hands were clasped before me as I focused on a trellis at head height across the garden. My father took one step towards me as the crowd hung on his every word.
“This ball is held today in honour of your prince,” he announced. “Let us all hear your love for Prince Langnathin, your Crown Prince and the Champion of Gossamir!”
The noise was loud, but markedly less so than it was for Braxthorn’s entrance. I didn’t need to look out to know why.Champion of Gossamir, I was not. To many out there, I was still the Scourge of Courvin, and they were both afraid and detesting of me. It was those whose fear outweighed their distaste who applauded now.
It would be prudent to study their faces, to mark which of the Scentlanders applauded the weakest, or those who made no noise whatsoever. But I did not resent them for it, and I knew half my father’s statement was in order to find them out. I had no desire to ruin the fun by stripping them of their game. This was all they had, my aunt and him. This ever-growing web of distrust and fucking politics.
Though, his words were not a lie. In my father’s eyes, our mission in the north and the toll it had wreaked on our people was a success.
I held up a hand for them to quiet, with my best attempt at a forced smile.
“He performed a great feat, subduing their tribal population,” Braxthorn continued, “and more, bringing home a precious burden which I am sure will bring glory to our great kingdom.”
Applause mingled with whispers. Already, rumours circulated of a new young dragon. It was only a matter of timebefore enough servants talked, or those around the castle pieced together my arrival with that of a strange girl with blue eyes. Just how Braxthorn would spin that one would be fascinating to watch.
Instead, though, he surprised me.
My father reached into his pocket and brought out a handful of scalemail. He reached it up, letting the small patch of it shimmer before the gathering audience. “Another plunder was gained in Gossamir. For years, Vellintris has been a wild dragon, casting her net across the five kingdoms. Unknowable, untrackable, and unstoppable. An ancient dragon, who believed herself above the power of men, and above any retribution. Killing as she pleased.” Braxthorn shook the scalemail. “No longer! Vellintris is no more!”
My blood chilled as dread filled me.
Braxthorn’s voice thundered across the gathered nobles. “I rode out, astride the great Kallamont. I raked his claws, the claws of our nation, our Triad, through the beast. One less threat for our people, one huge bounty for our arsenal. With her scales, with her teeth, we become unstoppable. We are the people of Edrin. Those who rule the dragons. Watch us!”
I blinked in terrible shock as I joined in the applause. From the movement, it must be the loudest yet. In truth, I could barely hear it.
I knew it was him, I thought to Chaethor, even though my heart dropped from the true knowing of it.
