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The Last Dragon King (Kings of Avalier #1)(25)

Author:Leia Stone

I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to the term “prospective wife.”

“I’m Kendal.”

“I’m Arwen,” I said as Annabeth opened a door that led us into an extravagant hallway. The walls, the floors, all of it was solid jade. I’d never seen this much wealth in my entire life and it took me back a bit. So much so that I hadn’t realized I’d stopped walking.

“You get used to it, dear. The lavatories are solid gold too,” Annabeth commented.

I laughed. She was funny.

She gave me a serious look. “I’m not kidding.”

Oh. I shifted uncomfortably and her eyes roamed over me closely for the first time. “You need a bath before you meet the others.”

“The others?”

She nodded. “The other prospective wives.”

Oh, how many were there? The Grim Hollow girl and probably one or two from right here in Jade City… were there more from the villages near the Great River?

“A bath would be lovely,” I murmured, and she motioned that we follow her down another hallway. I was already lost. When we turned down yet another corridor I saw that there were over a dozen doors, each one with a maid standing in front of it.

Holy Hades.

They had maids just waiting for their guests? He must entertain a lot.

Annabeth walked me right up to the last door and smiled at a young girl with black curly hair who tried and failed not to look shocked at my bloody appearance. She seemed a few winters older than me, maybe twenty winters old.

“There was a mishap, and Arwen will need a bath before lunch,” Annabeth advised her.

The young curly-haired girl cleared her throat and curtsied. “Yes, ma’am.”

She opened the door and I stepped inside as Annabeth walked Kendal to the room next door, introducing her to her maid.

Kendal gave me a small wave, letting me know she was okay, and I closed the door to my new room and spun around.

“Holy Hades fire,” I gasped, and my new maid stiffened. “Oh, that wasn’t very ladylike, huh? I need to work on that stuff I guess,” I told her. Unless I was going to join the king’s army. In that case, I could curse all I wanted.

She bowed deeply to me. “I’m Narine. I am here to help you in any way possible.”

I gave her a nervous wave. “I’m Arwen.” I bowed back and she went rigid, eyes wide. I winced. “I’m not supposed to bow to you, am I?”

Her fa?ade dropped and she burst into laughter, which I appreciated. I couldn’t live with an emotionally dead person hanging around all the time.

“No,” she said, and then cut off her laughter quickly. “I’m sorry for laughing, my lady, I—”

“Oh, please be normal with me, at ease or whatever. I’m not a lady, I’m a hunter from Cinder Village.” I showed her my blood and dirt crusted nails and she winced.

“A hunter? Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll have to become a lady if you want to marry the king.”

I shrugged. “What if I don’t want to marry the king?”

Her eyebrow raised but she said nothing, slipping out of the room, giving me time to fully take in the luxurious space.

The carpet was a plush high pile in a deep purple. The couch was a shiny golden fabric that probably had actual gold in it, and the little kitchen area was so clean I was afraid to cook anything in it. There was a sitting room, a bedroom, a guestroom, and two washrooms!

It was official. These living quarters were bigger than my hut back at Cinder Village, and much nicer too.

“Lady Arwen, your bath is ready.” Narine’s voice spooked me as I was staring out the window at the lush green rolling hills, where the army was currently drawing together on horseback. There were hundreds of them.

“I wonder if we will go to war with Nightfall now,” I mused aloud.

Narine clicked her tongue. “That’s for the men to figure out. You need to wash and focus on the competition.”

I snorted. “Competition? Is that what they are calling this? Half a dozen women competing for the king’s hand in marriage when all he really wants is our magical womb?”

She looked stricken and I instantly felt bad for speaking so brashly. She clearly wasn’t used to it.

“I’m sorry. I like to speak my mind,” I admitted.

She glared at me and I was a little taken aback by the anger on her face. Without another word, she turned on her heel and I followed her down the hall and into the washroom.

Okay, speak less and stop pissing off the maid, I told myself. I talked a lot when I got nervous. It was a bad trait.

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