The Hidden Sister | Book 1 of the Dragon Queen Series

۵ Chapter 5.5 ۵

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Chapter 5.5

fyre

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⌇The Rose Palace⌇

The Fire Lord's daughter trailed her index finger along the metal of the brazier. The coals burned brightly in oranges and yellows, but her skin remained pale when submerged in the flames; the hair did not singe, the skin did not redden.

Her dress was of fine red satin, hanging from her exposed curved body; it wavered in the gentle breeze and her feet padded against the tiled floor as she moved to the man. Her long, brunette hair was left untied and free to breathe.

"You have a very handsome face," she smirked deviously, gently touching his cheek with her warm finger, "Draydon always did make the finest warriors. Little boys eagerly turned into strong men. So, tell me, handsome man," she slowly crawled into his lap with a raised brow, her eyes reflecting the flames from the brazier perfectly, "why would such a proud and historic castle wish to betray the crown?"

The man panted in fear. "This has...happened before," he began, gulping deeply, "the Keep has...stability issues. But, we would never betray the crown, m'lady, uh, Princess." He corrected.

Her opal eyes narrowed. "Thirteen years ago, hundreds upon hundreds of your faithful men were burned at the stake in crimes of betraying the crown; the very thought of another ruler's name leaving their lips sent them to their pyres."

The man shivered in fright, his eyes practically shaking in their sockets as he locked contact with the Princess. "That was...that was many years ago, my Princess. The revolution began long before your dragons hatched."

Elia narrowed her eyes. "Revolution? Is that what you call it? In fact, I believe it's referred to treason."

The man's expression turned sour. "No! I just meant-"

"-We know exactly what you meant, Soldier." A booming voice echoed the halls; Elia removed herself from the man as soon as her King entered the hall alongside two of his most trusted advisers dressed in long, red robes. She curtseyed respectively and stepped away.

The Fire Lord stood ahead of the burly man. "I am your King." He said stiffly. "I am the King. And I do not see another heir to this throne other than my daughter. Do you?"

The man shook his head rapidly. "No, my King. I do not."

The Fire Lord smiled a devious smile. "You of course remember Lord Kassiby Ashtongue of Everclear, and what happened to him when he spoke against the crown."

"I would never say such things, your Grace!" He begged.

The Fire Lord smiled. "It's a shame not everybody in your Keep is as loyal as you."

The soldier hesitated, but after a moment, shook his head. "Please, my King. I have a family to return to."

"Of course," he smiled and moved towards his throne, his red robes trailing against the floor, "my dear man, we will let you return to your family...as soon as you hand over the names of the men who worship another ruler."

The man's brows furrowed. "My King," he gulped, "they are my brothers."

The Fire Lord scowled deeply and glanced over at his daughter in despair as he took his seat upon the throne. She smiled and moved to the tied man. With a quick snap of her fingers, a small flame appeared at the end of her index finger. The both of them locked their eyes onto it, unable to turn away from the fire. She smiled smugly. "They are not your brothers if they speak against your King."

He shook in fear, his eyes never wavering from Elia's flame. "My Princess, I do not think that I-AHHH!" He screamed, the burning hot flame sizzling his left arm where she held it. The skin bubbled and boiled against the heat, yet her finger never gained a scar.

She took it away slowly and watched as he writhed in pain. "Have I jogged your memory? Or should I send for your daughter?"

The man whimpered and shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "The names...I can tell you them."

Elia smiled gratefully. "Thank you so much, you will go with our Wicca in a moment, she will help ease the pain of your poor burn. Ser Manx will accompany you," she smirked and leaned down to his ear, "you may tell him everything." She whispered.

The giant man in the corner coated in red armour yanked the broken man from his seat and dragged him out of the room, limp. He seemed to have passed out from the pain.

The King tapped his fingers against the arm of his throne impatiently.

"What is the matter, father?" Elia asked curiously.

"They should be back by now." He growled. "I sent a Diamond to do a man's job, he better return with good news, or his father will see better days. Bloody Diamonds...more interested in their hair than winning a war."

Elia smiled. "I'm sure they will, father."

The King shuffled in his seat, it seemed his rotund bottom was far from fitting in the slim chair. "What of your dragons? The ones you have bonded with. Are they healthy? How much have they grown?"

The girl leaned against the brazier. "They are fine. Growing fast, but not as fast as I would hope. Perhaps, if I still had Embereye-"

"-Perhaps nothing." The King grumbled. "He is dead. The three remain, stronger than ever. You need not think of that tragedy anymore."

Elia sighed. "I understand, father. They still call for their brother. Elyssor, Blushfyre, Ashwing, they still mourn."

"And what of the smallest? Why has her growth halved to that of her siblings?"

"The White Wraith, Ashwing, was contained for more than half of her life," she looked away, "perhaps if you had not done so, she would be just as big, if not bigger, than her brother and sister or any other wild dragon."

The King shuffled again, this time to stand tall above his daughter. "What are you suggesting?" He said solemnly.

Her eyes widened slightly. "I am not suggesting anything, father. I'm sorry if I offended you." She spoke quickly.

The King glared in her direction. "You best watch your tongue, you are not Queen yet."

She nodded quickly, her eyes closing in slight fear. As soon as her father returned to his seat, the large double doors entering the hall opened. In came Anselet atop his horse, wounded, with four Shadow Riders; on the back of his horse lay the Chief of The Queen's Veil, his body mangled and bloody.

He stepped from his white destrier, bowed as best he could, and stripped his horse of the large man. His riders dropped down from their black mares in tandem.

"What is this?" The King grumbled, watching with a grimace at the sorry excuse for a warrior.

"My King," Anselet quivered, "we could not locate the girl, she escaped our grasp, I sent three riders after her - but we have brought you the body of the Chief of The Queen's Veil. His village lay in tatters. A great victory."

The King narrowed his eyes and stood up from his throne. "VICTORY? You brought me nothing but the body of an old war chief, a bag of bones already on his way to the other side. I needed that girl. This was no victory, fool." He boomed.

Anselet nodded quickly. "Yes, my King, I'm sorry my King. She managed to get away from us. Do not fear, she travelled further North, away from the capitol, she can't have gone far, we will track her down. I sent three of my best riders after them."

"Do not fear? FEAR?" The King yelled. "I do not feel fear; I sent a boy to do a man's job - I should have sent your crippled father instead of you, and now, you must pay the pyre's price. Bring me Lord Diamond." He growled.

Anselet shook in fear. "My King, I beg-"

Ser Mannorly of the King's Guard walked over to smack Anselet across the face with his gloved hand. "-You will only speak when asked to."

The side doors opened to reveal Lord Diamond, Anselet's father, being escorted by guards of the Rose Palace. "My son..." the elderly man sighed, "what have you done?"

"It is what he has not, my Lord. Look at your boy, scratched up and broken like some tavern wench after a good f**k; he sent back the body of some dying war chief, instead of the girl."

"My King, forgive my boy. He can be a bit reckless, but he always keeps his word." The elderly man pleaded.

"I do not need his word, my Lord, I need that girl!" He boomed at the top of his voice.

Ser Mannorly and Ser June, two of the three large-bodied King's Guard, seized Anselet, grabbing his arms and dragging him before the King. The Shadow Riders stood aside, allowing their Lord to have his head shoved up towards their King - the man who would pay them.

"My King, please! He is my son!" Lord Diamond pleaded, dropping to his knees, much to his sons despair. "Take my life, my King. My life for my sons! He will lead House Diamond."

"No!" Anselet struggled in the guards' arms.

The King held up a hand. "This will not do. Such an insubordinate at the head of one of the greatest houses backed behind the crown?" The King shook his head. "You have another son, do you not? Surely you can stow this one aside, for the good of the crown."

The elderly man furrowed his brows and hung his head. "My King, you cannot make me choose between my boys. They are the legacy of House Diamond."

The King shuffled to the edge of his throne. "The legacy of House Diamond is the legacy of the crown. And the crown will not tolerate such carelessness," squires rushed to drag pieces of charred wood into the great hall as he spoke, "a very important job for the safety of the realm, and your son failed."

Anselet slammed his eyes shut as he was dragged to the pyre, his arms and legs forcibly tied to the cross-shaped wood; his father crying helplessly from the side.

The sound of fire striking made him jolt; his eyes were shut so tightly it pained his head. There was a scream, but not from his lips.

He pried his eyes open and glanced to the side, where the heat was most prominent against his left cheek. Much to his own astonishment, the soldier from Draydon Keep had been brought into the room by Ser Manx and tuckered aside was now emitting a red and orange glow. He watched as his skin melted from his cheeks, his eyes burned from his skull as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Smoke was seeping from his mouth, but it didn't last long; he suffocated before his body could burn. The smell was singeing Anselet's nose hair as he was brought down from the pyre.

A few moments after the pyre had turned to cinders, Lord Diamond fell to his knees. "Thank you, thank you my King. Thank you for sparing my sons's life."

Anselet's heart sunk at the sight of his father brought to his knees, begging for his life and happy another man had died in his place.

"I can be graceful. Perhaps you have a newfound grace for your life Lord Diamond, and you can retrieve that girl for me." The King waved his hand; the Diamonds being ushered away. The hall smelt of burnt flesh; the King turned to Elia. "You will take the soldier back to Draydon Keep and lay him at the gates as a warning."

Elia furrowed her brows. "Very well, my King." She agreed. "May I take a cart to transfer the body?"

The King grumbled. "You will do no such thing, no Princess of mine will be hauling the charred body of a sad soldier back to his keep. You will drop his body from Elyssor's talons. You will then ride to the Jade Forest, in Llorva, and meet with the Elven leaders of Clan Lnasera to keep the peace at Castle Jada. There has been talk of an attack against the capitol. A convoy will accompany you."

"Keep the peace?" Elia repeated. "Father, I belong in the Rose Palace, with you."

"You belong, where I tell you to be. Your duties as Princess of the realm, is to do whatever your King commands. I am your father, and you will listen to me. The soldiers will be humbled by the sight of your presence, and the sight of your dragons."

Elia shuffled in place. "Very well, father. As you command."

With a perfectly executed curtsey, she left the great hall with Ser Manx in tow.

Outside the castle walls met Elia with a warm glow of sunshine. Her skin felt gentle against the heat.

The convoy was positioned by the gates, the Princess' Fresian Stallion awaiting at the head of the alignment. She promptly climbed in the saddle and placed her feet in each of the stirrups. Looking up, three of her four original dragons noticed her moving and flew slightly above the convoy in tandem.

The biggest, and her mount, Elyssor, flew ahead of the trio with black scales, littered with bright crimson colours. His wings radiated a warm maroon, tinged with a coral glow. The sunlight bounced off of his silky base scales, onto his rosy coloured sister Blushfyre.

She flew just behind; her head was scaled a lot thinner than her brother's rather wide form. The pink colouring of Blushfyre's scales faded into a white, the underside of her wings glittered in the sunlight.

At the back of the convoy, Ashwing fluttered as fast as her small wings would allow. Her tiny white body was a sign of weakness and worthlessness in the capitol, as this is what the colour white portrayed after the war. And as a result, Ashwing was locked away for many years in a dungeon beneath the castle. She was fed, and cared for, but it was no life, and as she was contained, so was her growth.

Elia looked up to the brightening sky and sighed deeply. It would be a rather long journey.