Page 21 of In the Embrace of Dragons

Chapter Nine

NISSIA

When I return to my room, Zephala shoots to her feet.

“What did he want?”

It had been quite an event, King Vizarios abandoning me on the altar, so to speak. Sweating and covered in his spend, I’d muddled my way through putting my clothes back on while the dragons standing around speculated about what had happened and why he’d left so abruptly without “presenting” me to them—whatever that means.

Zephala, thankfully, rescued me from my awkward abandonment and hurried me back to my room. So it was very odd to both of us when the king called for me.

“He wanted to coordinate clothes,” I explain as I wander into the closet, picking out the dark blue robe we agreed on and still not quite believing it. “To make sure we matched for dinner later.”

Zephala cocks her head. “That was why he summoned you?”

“He also told me I need to take a bath.” I rub my chin. “I guess I should do that.”

She nods sagely. “You do smell like, well...”

“I wish I’d known! I didn’t realize dragons has such an acute sense of smell.” I sigh and turn to her. “You’ll keep me in the loop about things like this, right? Tell me whatever I don’t know?”

Zephala’s delicate brows rise on her forehead.

“I will try my best,” she says at length, taking the dark blue robe from me so she can hang it up by the mirror. “Though I must admit I understand very little about humans, so I may not have any idea what you know or don’t know.”

I shrug. “Something is better than nothing. Just think of me like a toddler. A very stupid toddler who doesn’t understand anything.”

Zephala laughs. “I can do this for you.” She offers me the door to the bathing room, where she’s thoughtfully drawn up a warm bath. Something about her reminds me of Ari, and it’s comforting to have her nearby.

I show her my different soaps and oils, all of which I brought from home. As I wash, I do my best to get between my legs so nobody can smell me anymore. How embarrassing.

When I’m finished, Zephala investigates my hair, and I explain to her how to pat it dry with a cloth and run oils through the curls. Then she gets to work on my makeup, learning my different skin tone and face shape.

“Interesting,” she says often, quirking a brow and then adding a little color. When she lets me look in the mirror, I’m surprised to find she’s added a greenish blue tint to my eyelids that reminds me of Vizarios’s scales.

“Now you will match,” she says with pride. Then she leans down conspiratorially. “Since you are human, you probably do not know. But in the throne room, the king? He released his scent glands. He marked you in front of everyone.”

Huh? His scent glands?

“Is that why I reeked?” I ask, lips twisting.

“Yes. When a male dragon does this, he is claiming his partner. Telling everyone else who might be interested that you are spoken for.”

Heclaimedme? That can’t be right—not after the way he left me there to fend for myself, or the way he treats me like an annoying fly.

Hm. Maybe there is some hope after all, though, if she’s right. Maybe Vizarios is an egg with a particularly hard shell that I just need to crack open. Could a good marriage be possible between us?

With a faint smile, I look at myself in the mirror again, and I have to admit that I like the color on me.

RAGNAKOR

I didn’t leave the king unprotected, of course. I assigned two of my guards to him while I went to work off my turmoil.

Changing quickly out of my ceremonial garb and into my workout clothes, I head out to the training yard. I snatch a wooden sword off the wall, and the arms master lifts his head from polishing a sword.

“There’s no one around, Ragnakor,” he says, setting it in its cradle. “Everyone’s preparing for the dinner later.”

I shrug and head into the training yard anyway, rolling my shoulders and then bending at the middle to elongate my back, sticking my tail straight out behind me. When I stand again, the arms master, Tralazan, is cracking his knuckles. He grabs a practice sword off the wall, too, and rolls up his sleeves.