A Witch's Word

GRIEVING LOST LIVES

His body glistened, but whether it came from the steam of the tub or his sweat from his exerting afternoon, he was unsure. The consistent trait of Lizzip was that she always met his stamina, too proud to ask for a reprieve until he had had his fill of her body. When she had completed the final bonding ritual with her amphithere, Haploz, her hair had changed into a beautiful shade of turquoise. She was self-conscious about it, but Cadmus had always found it singularly beautiful. She wouldn’t have been the perfect wife for him, but she would have been better than the witch he was being condemned to marry. Amphitheres were beautiful winged cousins to dragons, but they had no limbs, and were usually the breed of dragons that would be reserved for Marquises. Typically, they were a proud species and furious in battle. The same could be said for Lizzip. She lay on the bed, curled into a blissful position, and Cadmus allowed himself to imagine for one minute that he refused his father’s orders and insisted he marry her instead. Perhaps this might have been their future if Dex, his dragon, had accepted Haploz, but they loathed each other.

“I can’t believe we will have an inept witch as our queen. I don’t think I have ever been more embarrassed for our Empire. My father is still trying to get King Nokon to change his mind, and I don’t know what it will mean for us because I will not share you with a witch,” she rambled aloud.

Cadmus laughed hysterically at the suggestion. His father could make him marry this outsider, but nobody could make him feel affection for anyone who was related to Mother Maggie. She was foul and there was no doubt in his mind that Princess Edith would be the same.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I won’t be going anywhere near her,” he assured his jealous mistress.

Stepping out of the steaming bathtub, he covered the floor with water that dripped down his muscles. Climbing across the bed, he flipped Lizzip on to her front, sucking her hip while he restrained her in the position. She responded excitedly as he knew she would. He bit her soft ear, laughing at her moan that she was unable to hold in.

“You would share me with others, but not with this witch. Remember Lizzip, I won’t share you with anyone. You must be loyal to your Prince,” he commanded, allowing a little of his power to heighten their role-play.

Prepared to plunge himself back into her welcoming embrace, he was interrupted by the frantic knocking at the door.

“Prince Cadmus! Cadmus! The wedding party is ready to leave. You have been told to prepare Dex for your flight. He seems agitated,” Reid, his loyal general, shouted to him.

Turning Lizzip on to her back, he tenderly kissed her mouth. These were the parts of their lovemaking where Lizzip always felt as if she had him all to herself, as if their union was special, and not as unattached as she always pretended it was.

“We will resume this when I return. Keep yourself ready for me,” he ordered.

“You should be so lucky, Prince Cadmus.” She called to him as he hurriedly put his clothes on.

She wished she could beg him to stay with her. They could run to one of the volcanic mountains and live a wild life together, but she was too proud to let him know how heartbroken she was. Instead, she walked into the natural heated spring and prayed for some misfortune to befall the sacrificial witch. She was so lost in the peace of the water that she didn’t notice the gleaming bird that flew from the window with a secret to tell.

Reid maintained a respectable distance behind Cadmus, as was expected. They had both been taught the formalities of court, but Cadmus did everything he could to fight against them, whilst Reid observed them faithfully. It was a great shame that this marriage was to be taken seriously. The young Prince had always imagined his last day as an unmarried heir would have been filled with laughter, his friends reminiscing about his wilder days, while he looked forward to a union with a woman he loved. Unfortunately, he had been ordered by his king to only tell Reid of the plans, because his father didn’t want the lords to stand in his way for the match that would strengthen them in the future. Decency made him tell Lizzip, because no woman deserved to be surprised by the arrival of a secret wife. Feeling an overwhelming amount of grief for the life he knew he wouldn’t have with a wife who had been chosen for him, he closed the gap between himself and his closest friend and forced Reid to walk at his side.

“With this union, I will never see Dex and his mate fly across the sky in union. I will not have heirs who are paired with dragon eggs. My children will not feel the ripple of heat beneath their skin. I will be tied to a wife who I find repulsive. Please dear friend, stop pulling me towards my doom.” Cadmus spoke freely to his friend.

Reid didn’t know what to say in reply. He could only pat his arm and not rush him. It was understood that a match between dragons usually indicated what the relationship between the riders would be like. This wasn’t the first ever marriage that had been arranged, nor the first one where love wasn’t found before their life began, but it was the first match where a dragon would be expected to have no mate. Truthfully speaking, Reid wasn’t sure what his Emperor’s plan was. Nokon might have given up on Dex’s willingness, since he had scorned every dragon match that had been presented to him, including Lizzip’s. Alternatively, it could be Nokon’s plan that Dex would be so disgusted by the idea of having no mate that he would incinerate Edith upon meeting her. If the latter was the case, then Reid couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Edith. Everyone knew how highly educated witches were, so it was inevitable that she would know of this possibility that her own mother had led her to.

Black marble plinths protruded from the castle towers, most people had one for their family that was attached to their balcony, but only two dragons could launch at the same time. Leaving his Prince, Reid climbed on his dragon, Sidnax. Sidnax was white and blended into stone with his almost round-shaped scales. He was far more muscly than his Prince’s dragon, but also far more placid—unless in battle. Patting Sidnax on his flank, Reid looked over at Cadmus and Nokon. Since his father had died in the war and his mother shortly afterwards, Reid had inherited the title of General, the youngest in their histories. Responsibly for the safety of the realm and the preparation of the armies, it was his honour to serve both the King and Prince but escorting them to the people who had killed his father was one of the most difficult commands that Reid had ever forced himself to follow.

“Fly Sidnax,” Reid called out, and against his better judgement chased the horizon.

On the Royal Plinth, tensions were colder than a Lindworm’s breath (these were the dragons who were born from ice and thrived in the frost). Cadmus continued to look at his father with an expression of disappointment. The same that was returned with equal hostility. Nokon was already sat astride Dostex, looking down at his son with impatience. Sensing his rider’s irritability, Dostex’ tail was poised in its scorpion-like position looking for the threat. Cadmus scrambled up Dex’s scales and sat astride his shoulders. Although Cadmus was a disappointment to his father in so many ways, he was proud that his son was the only rider in written history to not ride his beast with a saddle. Of course, he would never tell him this, because it had come naturally to him, and King Nokon only praised what was worked hard for.

“When my marriage was arranged with your mother, I didn’t have a say in it. I knew it was my duty and I went along with it. Would it kill you to do the same, and come to terms with the life you have to live instead of the one you feel entitled to? It all worked out in the end. Your mother was kind and I loved her. We did our duty, and I only ask you to do the same.” Nokon called to his son, knowing they wouldn’t be able to speak once they were in the sky.

“Mother was a dragon rider and the chances of seeing her body evaporate under your dragon’s breath were slim. I’m either condemning my dragon and I to misery, or I’m going to be responsible for killing an innocent witch—if there is such a thing. It’s not the same sacrifice that you and mother made,” Cadmus argued back and took a grip of the two scales that help control Dex’s direction.

Emperors were supposed to fly before Princes, but Cadmus wanted to hurt his father in whatever way he could. If Dostex punished him, it would still be a better alternative than having to marry the princess witch.

“As for Mother, you should still love her. At least you had a wife who you could love. I will be stuck with this witch forever,” Cadmus informed his father coldly, before setting off for the funeral of his desired future.”

Nokon’s anger spilled over into his dragon as he roared before launching from the platform and into the dry hot skies. Undeniably, Cadmus was correct with his comparison between their arranged marriages, but, as usual, he had missed the bigger lesson. To be Emperor was to sacrifice. Not a day passed when Nokon didn’t fight the urge to mend his broken family, but the price would be to rule a broken empire and that was a price too high to pay. Twenty-three years ago, the future he had wanted had been ripped from existence, each day since he had to wear a crown that was weighted with grief and teach a son who he was perpetually disappointed in how to be an adult, before he tried to make him into his heir.