Page 1 of Fire and Fate
Kaia
Istare out the tall arched window of the great hall, watching rain streak down the glass in crooked rivers. The funeral procession below winds through the courtyard, all black cloaks and bowed heads. Another soldier dead. Another Alpha who thought himself brave enough to claim a dragon's head and my hand along with it.
This one lasted longer than most. He made it three days into the Shadowlands before whatever he found out there sent him crawling back to Valoria's gates. The guards said he bled out on the steps, gasping something about fire and scales the size of shields. They always have stories. They always die anyway.
Seven years of this. Seven years since my mother fell from her horse during a hunt and broke her neck on the stones below.Seven years since my father, King Frederik, decided that grief would be soothed by greed and that my future would be bartered for the promise of dragon gold. Whoever brings back a dragon's head may have my hand in marriage. Those were his words, repeated at every funeral feast, every memorial, every gods-damned gathering where another foolish Alpha's family weeps into their wine.
Only Alphas, of course. Because I am an Omega, and Omegas need Alphas to rule. Never mind that I trained with my mother from the time I could hold a practice sword. Never mind that I know every trade route, every ally, every potential threat to our kingdom's borders. I have studied law and language and the art of negotiation. But none of that matters when you are an Omega born to a throne you will never truly sit upon.
I let out a heavy sigh, my corset crushing my ribs with every breath. The maids laced it tight enough to make my breasts swell above the neckline, the deep purple fabric itching against my skin. I long for my loose trousers and simple tunics, the ones my father forbids me from wearing to any public function. A princess must look like a princess, he says. An Omega must remember her place.
Silent but unforgettable.
The great hall thrums with noise around me, dragging my attention back to the chaos. The feast has begun, as it always does after we bury another suitor. A celebration of life, my father calls it, though it feels more like a recruitment drive. He stands at the center of the raised table, goblet lifted high, voice booming across the assembled crowd.
"We honor the brave soul who gave his life in pursuit of glory," he declares, and the nobles echo his sentiment with raised glasses and solemn nods. "But take heart, for one day, a warrior strong enough and cunning enough will succeed where others have failed. He will bring back the dragon's head and the untoldriches that come with such a prize. He will rule Valoria and usher in a new age of prosperity for our kingdom."
He will rule. Not Kaia. Not the princess who has spent her entire life preparing for the crown. The Alpha who wins gets the kingdom. I will become little more than an ornament to legitimize his claim.
My shoulders slump in defeat, a minor gesture that only those watching me would notice, the emotions in the room pressing against my senses. Grief from the dead soldier's family. Anticipation from the young Alphas already eyeing me, calculating their chances. Greed from the nobles who smell profit in my father's madness. Omegas are rare these days, each one blessed with some residual magic since we cannot shift like the other designations. Mine allows me to sense the surface emotions of those around me and catch the acrid taste of lies on my tongue when someone tries to deceive me.
Right now, I taste ambition and wine, sorrow and malicious glee, all mixing together until I want to claw at my throat to make it stop.
Something nudges my foot beneath the table. I blink and turn my attention from the window to find Solace standing behind my chair, hands clasped in front of her in the formal pose of a royal guard. Her face remains carefully neutral, but her dark eyes flash with warning.Fix your face, that look says.
I force my features into something resembling pleasant neutrality and allow myself a small smile up at her. Solace's lips twitch, just barely, and I have to swallow the laugh that threatens to bubble up my throat. She has given me that same look at least twelve times in the past hour. Twelve reminders that I must play my part, that I must sit here in this ridiculous dress and pretend to be the grieving princess who weeps for every Alpha foolish enough to chase my father's lies.
But I am done pretending. I am so thoroughly done with all of this.
My gaze drifts back to Solace, and something warm unfurls beneath my ribs. She stands tall and elegant in her black uniform, the fitted jacket emphasizing her slender frame and long legs. Her long black hair falls in sleek waves past her shoulders, and her rich brown skin seems to glow in the dim candlelight of the hall. She is beautiful in a way that makes my breath catch, all quiet grace and contained strength.
She is also the only person in this entire kingdom who sees me as more than a womb to carry the next heir or a prize to be won.
We have been careful, so careful, over the past few years. No one can know that the princess has taken her Beta guard as a lover. My father would dismiss Solace in an instant if he discovered the truth, and any Alpha he chose as my mate would certainly never allow her to remain at my side. So we hide behind propriety and protocol, stealing moments when we can, and I wear these damned corsets to feasts I despise while she stands at my back like a statue.
Someone approaches the royal table to make a joke that I don’t quite catch but I laugh anyway, the Alpha’s eyes lighting up like she’s somehow gotten one step closer to me choosing her as my wife.
I reach for my napkin slowly, dabbing at the corners of my eyes as though overcome with emotion. Behind me, Solace makes a soft sound, barely more than an exhale, that only I can hear. She knows exactly what I am doing. I smile into the fabric, hidden from view, and let my shoulders shake as though holding back tears.
The nobles nearest our table notice immediately. I hear their whispers start, some of them leaning toward one another from the corner of my eye.
"Poor princess."
"Such a tender heart."
"Oh, that poor Omega, overwhelmed by grief again."
Perfect. I wait just long enough for the whispers to spread, then push to my feet with a small, choked sound that I hope passes for a suppressed sob. Several heads turn my way. My father glances over, frowning, but does not stop his conversation with the Alpha lord at his right hand. Without waiting for his dismissal, I simply step down from the raised platform where the royal table sits and make my way toward the doors at the back of the hall.
More pitied whispers follow me as I keep my face downturned, one hand pressed to my mouth, the perfect picture of an overwhelmed Omega fleeing to compose herself in private. The moment I pass through the doors and into the corridor beyond, I drop the act entirely.
A grin splits my face as I break into a run. My slippers clap against the cold stone floors, and I gather my skirts in both hands to keep from tripping over the heavy fabric. The castle corridors are empty at this hour, everyone still occupied with the feast. I race toward my chambers, feeling lighter with every step that carries me away from that suffocating hall.
Solace is right behind me, her longer stride eating up the distance between us. I let out a breathless laugh that is half squeal as I push through the door to my room just in time for her to follow me inside. She shuts the door firmly behind her, and then her arm is around my waist, pulling me back against the solid warmth of her chest.
I melt into her immediately, a purr rising from my throat before I can stop it. Solace's breath is warm against my ear as she murmurs, "Princess, you cannot be running through the halls like that."
I twist in her arms until I face her, grinning up at her stern expression. "And yet I did."
