“Why do you all seem so hung up on something I have no interest in? Does no one even care that I have no interest in making Aden my anything? Even if I had entertained it at one time, I don’t anymore—not after I heard him talking about only wanting me so he can gain the throne. I’d rather a callous bastard be at my side than some bastard who thinks to manipulate me.” Eva opened her mouth to argue, but I held my hand up to prevent it. “Save it. I’m over everyone telling me who I should be interested in or who I shouldn’t. That’s not even on my list of shit I’m worried about. The politics don’t concern me right now.” They did, but I wasn’t about to give her any secrets. I also wasn’t willing to defend my love life to anyone here. There were much more pressing concerns than who was ringing my devil’s doorbell.
“We shan’t keep the men waiting.”
“Shan’t we?” I somehow returned with a straight face.
“No, she shan’t. Come,” she ordered as she left the chamber without waiting to see if we followed behind her.
“Shan’t we?” I wiggled my brows at Esme, who snorted.
“You are using it wrong, Aria.” At the door, she paused. “I shan’t go before you, Your Majesty.”
“But that was correct?” I asked with a frown pulling on my lips. Esme laughed as we rushed down the hallway in the thin sandals that they’d given us to wear. The thin, silver chains wrapped around our calves of our legs before attaching leather bands high on our thighs clinked softly.
The guards bowed to Eva as we neared the doors exiting the wing, which we’d been placed in. One of them paused as he rose, his eyes growing doe-like as he took in Esme. Turning toward her, I smirked as her cheeks reddened at his obvious gazing at her beauty. The other one cleared his throat, alerting the other to his gawking at her. Once we passed them, Esme turned back and let out an unladylike snort.
“Do try to pretend to have manners,” Eva stated offhandedly.
“We’ll do our best not to embarrass you, Lady Eva,” I muttered sarcastically.
Eva spun around so swiftly I had to come to an abrupt halt. “Are we a joke to you?” It filled her voice with emotion, which made my smile drop.
“No, of course not.” I swallowed past the lump growing in my throat. Offending her hadn’t been my intent, but being deprived of sleep wasn’t helping my mind consider anything other than the delirium setting in.
“Do you know what it has been like for us? We’ve been forced from our homes, lost loved ones to both dragons and witches, and told to wait around for the one who’s supposed to save us all. But you don’t seem worried in the least bit about our plight. You merely see a thriving civilization, which is what Griffon wanted you to see. That’s what you see from the outside, looking in. You don’t see the pain the dragons inflicted when they eradicated entire bloodlines from existence. The people you’re supposed to rule over? They’d buried their loved ones lost at the hands of the man you . . .” Lowering her eyes, she lifted them with tears swimming in them. “It doesn’t matter what you said. I honestly don’t care if you are with him personally. But others see it as a betrayal against those they’ve lost during the dragon wars. Griffon knew the land would accept you, but even though it has, it doesn’t mean the people will. You don’t have to know the history to know this: Dragons fight dirty, even to this day. They broke the rules of engagement when they defiled the queen’s tomb, tossing her remains around as if she’d been nothing. Royals have always been, and will always be, off-limits.”
“That isn’t on me though,” I pointed out. “I get that there’s a lot of history between our people, but they didn’t teach us anything inside the Tenth Realm that didn’t pertain to Hecate or her being the savior of the land.” Eva’s shoulders dropped before she exhaled, nodding decisively. “Tell me about Zyion.”
“Zyion was Scylla’s Head Guard. He dishonored Scylla when he left her side during a skirmish. When he returned, she’d had her throat slit from ear to ear. Dragons were responsible for her death, of course.” Her eyes lowered as her mouth turned into a white line of tension. “His version of the story is that he’d chased off an enemy, then returned to find her, along with all of his men, deceased. The Queen’s Guard is forbidden to abandon the queen, but he did so on that day. No witnesses were available to confirm or deny what happened. A queen died on his watch. So, if you’re asking if you should trust him? The answer is no. Zyion Vicious isn’t worthy of guarding anyone, let alone the next queen to rule our kingdom. He also has a sinister side. One very few have lived to talk about afterward. Those who do are normally the ones he’s shared a bed with. It’s that he’s cruel and has a violence within him that isn’t tamable.”
“I’m not interested in what he does behind closed doors. But if they think he murdered the queen, why would they allow him to remain here? Obviously, they don’t think he is to be trusted, as you just pointed out.”
“Because he’s invaluable against dragons.” Eva spoke of him with reverence, telling me she’d been one of those ‘bedmates’ she spoke of. “Once we’re outside, do nothing to draw attention to yourself until we reach the dais. Griffon will be there waiting for you both. The match will begin once each warrior is granted an item of his choosing from a maiden. Please, don’t upset Aden any more than you’ve already done.”
“Didn’t realize we were heading into some medieval shitshow,” I muttered beneath my breath.
Esme snickered, and scenes from A Knight’s Tale played inside my head. We exited the corridor, then took winding steps down to the main floor. Throughout the entire hallway, paintings depicting battles, or Scylla with a man, who I assumed was Tirsynth, in various poses. I didn’t get time to study any of the images before Eva whisked us into luscious gardens. Passing a large, exquisitely crafted statue of twin phoenixes in flight, which was surrounded by children. One of the tiny girls looked up, smiling as I met her stare. Returning her smile, I noted the mothers gathered behind her, who all watched me with curious gazes.
As Eva approached the wide, heavily guarded gates, they were flung open to allow us to enter a heavily populated area filled with vibrantly colored tents. Each one appeared to be selling goods or wares of varying items. Cool air drifted over my shoulders, then forced goosebumps over my flesh as the scent of savory meats, sweetened berries, and excitement drifted on the breeze as we moved through the multitude of tents. Eva stopped at a tent with a large table filled with brilliantly colored strips of fabric and plucked up a sheer, silver strip for me and then a crimson and onyx-colored one for Esme.
“The royal coffers will pay the coin,” she told the merchant. “Esme, silver represents the Royal House of Fafnir. Red and black indicate the House of Prometheus.”
“I’m a Prometheus?” she asked without accepting the slip of fabric.
“You are. You both are, but only one of you holds the bloodline of Scylla Prometheus.”
“So, if I’m a Prometheus, then who is my father?” Esme asked, her lips tugging at the corners when Eva eyed her guardedly. “He doesn’t want to meet me, does he?” The dejection in Esme’s tone forced tightness in my chest.