Prologue
a Legacy Of The Seven Families novel
part of the Zeniphel Universe
All Italian will be translated at the end of the novel.
“People like to invent monsters and monstrosities. Then, they seem less monstrous themselves.” - Geralt Of Rivia
Caderyn
Large wool hood over my head, I roll my shoulders to loosen the jacket across my back. Dripping leather boots flat on the stool’s rungs, the warmth of the tavern is wonderful compared to the freezing rain I had to trudge through. One last drink for one last week….
Tankard handle hard in my palm; I swallow as much as I can as quickly as possible. Soon enough the Scholar Mother hired would be here, soon enough I will be poked and prodded, gawked at and they will try to fix me. But isn’t that my life?
The life of the cursed one, the life of the mutated. The life of a Dragon-born. And right on queue…
“Hey, Draco,” a drunk male spits.
I knew I should have worn a different coat. Eyes closed, I don’t move, whispering, “Lasciami solo….”
“Hey, Drakey-drakey-draco,” he calls, his buddies laughing.
The bartender is a veteran of this. “You lot need to be respectful; this is your Prince you’re talking to. Now if you don’t apologize, I’ll throw you out!”
My eyes catch his and he tries to smile. I finish my drink and leave my coin. “Thanks.”
Eye on the door, I make a straight line for it. Halfway there, I fill a hard yank of fabric by my neck. Caught mid-step, my hood falls, and a mix of booing and laughter erupts from the pub.
The f*****g i***t starts calling out, “See? Look at this hideous excuse for a Vampire! He’s no Prince of mine, that’s for sure.”
There’re a few ‘hear, hear’s in response and as I pull my hood back up, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The problem is… he’s right.
Out of respect to the owner, I let the men follow me out. Once the wooden door hits its frame with a final thwack, I turn around. Hood down, fangs bare, fists poised, I stare the i***t down. “You couldn’t just leave it alone, huh? Just let me have one drink in peace.”
“The likes of you shouldn’t be allowed in there.”
I throw a left hook. He goes down but his buddies rally. Knowing better than to do this, it still fits my reputation to a t. I could kill a guy, and no one would bat an eye. ‘It’s the dragon blood,’ they would say, ‘he’s more beast than man’. And maybe… maybe for just one more week they’d be right.
Delara
Tea poured, silent kettle back on the cooling burner, I ease out a long breath. Hot cup warming my palms, I absently look across the kitchen into the dreadfully dark night beyond the window. How am I so tired? Working at The University library is not taxing whatsoever. Helping students with papers, filing books, and keeping lamps lit, is not all that difficult, mentally, or physically.
But maybe that’s the problem. Ever since I took the position, I haven’t been challenged. Which more or less led me to accept the offer from Her Majesty without hesitance…. Well, that and knowing I couldn’t pass up such an opportunity. The research alone…, I shake my head.
Moving through my little cabin, the combination of the fireplace and the rain leaves me so utterly soothed. Just me and Catarina, living a little life; it hasn’t been so bad. But now – a week from now, everything will change.
If it hadn’t been for the Scholars taking me in as a Foundling, I wouldn’t have learned as much as I have, wouldn’t be as skilled as I am. However… all of that does not take away from the fact I’m a Half-blood. I was worried at first that Her Majesty didn’t know and as soon as I arrive, I’d be sent home. But! My Advisor assured me that that was mentioned when she reached out to The University.
Catarina hops in my lap and I start to pet her slowly. “Just you and me girly… one week from now and we’re moving into the Palace Of Onyx. Working for Queen Lilith, trying to help her son.”
When she mews, I nod and think, what have we gotten ourselves into?
