Page 24 of In the Embrace of Dragons

“Do you have a better one?” pipes up one of the other wardens from the territory to the north.

Of course, I cannot think of a joke off the cuff. Humor has never been one of my focuses in life, what with spending my time learning how to rule and taking care of the ungrateful wardens’ constant demands.

The queen watches me eagerly, and one of her small hands lands on my thigh as she encourages me. It sends a spark up my body, through every muscle, straight to my groin. Even just her touch steals my breath.

But I don’t want her believing there is any sort of intimacy between us. It’s impossible. I ought to nip this in the bud right now.

I push away her hand. “No, I don’t have any other jokes,” I say darkly. Then I look at Nissia, right into her brown eyes. “Because the joke is that I am here, shackled to you, for the rest of my life.”

The smile falls from her face, replaced by hurt. I expected to feel satisfaction at taking her down a few notches, but instead, I feel a distinct displeasure at the way she turns back to her food, staring down into it with her brows drawn.

Perhaps I was too harsh. But I want her to know where she stands with me.

The rest of the dinner is tedious as I speak with wardens who approach me and field their various requests. I try not to grant them anything, directing each to go and speak with Syzari instead. She shoots me a venomous look as they continue to interrupt her dinner.

Then, at last, the meal ends. Nissia has not said a word to me since her “joke” earlier, though she did resume conversation with Kalara. The old warden occasionally shoots me glares, but her judgment means nothing to me.

Eventually, I rise from my chair and, knowing what’s expected, offer Nissia my arm. She looks at it quizzically for a moment, as if I have offered her a handful of chicken bones.

“We’re going to pretend to have unity,” I murmur to her, urging her once again to take the offered elbow. Eventually, she rises to her feet, shaking her head, and we leave the banquet hall arm-in-arm.

The moment we’re free, though, Nissia disentangles herself. Without another look back, she charges off down the hall, leaving me behind.

This is how it should be, how I want things between us, but it still stings.

Chapter Ten

NISSIA

That man—thatdragon—is so... so... infuriating! And I grew up with my dad, who is certainly one of the most infuriating people in the world.

I stomp back to my rooms after that disaster of a dinner, the guard who’s been assigned to me trailing not far behind.

“Quillion,” he’d said in a rasping voice when we were introduced. I’m surprised by his age, even for a dragon. The grooves between his scales are deep, and there’s a gauntness to his face that speaks of many years.

But it’s not just his age that’s arresting—it’s the three jagged scars down his face that bisect one of his eyes, keeping it permanently closed. I was too shy to ask about them, but later, Zephala explained to me that Quillion once came upon a bear in the woods and fought it with his own claws. The bear took a good chunk of his face, but he won.

I suppose I’m glad to have someone like him guarding me, even as I wish it were Ragnakor, instead.

I step into my rooms, and Quillion takes up his postoutside as I close the door behind me. I’m still humiliated by what my husband said tonight, how he can’t hide his loathing of me for even one dinner.

Just when I thought maybe things could be different between us. I was a fool.

Zephala jumps to her feet and immediately sets to taking the elaborate pins out of my hair. She is new at this, and each one makes me squint. She just needs practice.

“How was it?” she asks as she piles pins up on the vanity.

“A nightmare.” I endeavor to keep tears out of my eyes. “I don’t understand why he hates me so much.”

Zephalatsksas she works her way around my head. “He is a foolish dragon to not see what’s in front of him.”

Clearly, whatever occurred between us on the pedestal was a fluke. Some kind of strange dream that only happened to me.

As I’m ruminating, there comes a light knock at the door.

“Who could that be?” Zephala sounds scandalized. “Perhaps it’s the king looking for a round two?”

I doubt that immensely after the way he treated me tonight.