Chapter One
SIYANA
In all mytwenty-five years of drawing breath in this world, my father had never requested my presence at a council meeting. The letter I’d received from him in the early evening hours yesterday broke that streak, and it didn’t sit right within my heart or mind.
Today I was expected to join him.
I had always known that I was a pawn for the kingdom as heir, and that one day I would be played. But how and why?
My mind circled back to the same thought all night.Did this have anything to do with the increased dragon sightings and the women who had gone missing from our kingdom?And if so, how did I factor into it?
The cool steel of my opponent's blade tore into the fabric of my tunic as my mind drifted, pondering the reasons I might be summoned. The weapon nicked the soft skin of my upper arm deeply enough that I knew, if the searing pain and warmth of blood trickling down my arm were any indication, it was going to leave a scar. My teeth ground together as I let out a hiss in both appreciation and pain from the wound.
I spared a brief second to let my eyes fall to the crimson stain that slowly seeped through the sleeve before letting a wolfishgrin take over my lips. I wondered, not for the first time, from where the darkness inside of me blossomed–the deep recess of my soul that purred in the midst of a fight. I relished in it and welcomed the wave of coldness that settled into my bones as I looked up into my opponent’s eyes.
Would I be as brave as I was in my current battle if I was staring up into the slitted eyes of a dragon instead? My heart yearned to know what it would be like to stand at the foot of the beasts of ice and water we used to be allies with.
Despite my well-founded fear of their sheer size and magical affinities, I still wanted to stand in the presence of one to test my mettle. I’d even settle for an undine drackya–a beast that could shift between both human and dragon forms–despite their dragons being smaller than that of their full-blooded undine counterparts.
A wistful sigh escaped my slightly parted lips. It was a shame I’d never be allowed the opportunity to join our soldiers on the battlefield and feel the adrenaline coursing through me as the dragons soared above.
I’d already accepted I’d never see the other elemental dragons of fire, earth, and air since they were sequestered to their chosen terrains that established the four kingdoms of Edath.
“Come on, Siyana, focus,” Brenson goaded as he bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for my rebuttal attack. “We wouldn’t want to mark up the precious princess of Andrathya, now would we? We can’t have all the men with frail egos seeing your wound and realizing a dainty woman has been allowed to train with a sword for years and could actually put them on their asses in seconds.”
A deep pit in my chest kindled with fire at his words. That was exactly what I wanted deep down.
My eyes rolled of their own accord as I parried his next slash toward my midsection, not allowing me time to be the aggressor. “Yes, what a horrible thought, that their wives and daughters could be as competent and fearsome, if not more! We can’t have that.”
Condescension and sarcasm were so thick on my tongue, I found it hard to get the words out. What a shame that this was our reality. But at this moment, I didn’t don my tiara, only my sword. I could allow myself to justbe.
The clash of metal against metal sent tingling shockwaves through my upper arms until they found a home within my chest, right next to my heart. My chest expanded as I took in a deep, satisfying breath. This was where I belonged–where I flourished. My upper lip curled back in a snarl of excitement as I gave myself fully over to this fight, body and mind.
With each day that passed, I found it increasingly exhausting to live this double life. I grew tired of biting my tongue and mincing my words. Forced to be a perfect princess to the public, while hiding that my heart beat to the drum of a warrior’s song. Forever torn between who I knew I could be and who Ihadto be. Lost somewhere in the middle without a path out.
Dropping the tip of my sword to face the ground, I jumped back a few paces to give myself a moment to reassess the fight in case he charged me.
A lop-sided smirk tilted one corner of Brenson’s full lips before he took the break to run a hand through his short mess of blond curls that laid across his forehead, damp from exertion. “Don’t tell me you’re tired and giving up already, Sia?”
Cocking my head at him, I arched a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re scared enough of this battle to resort to using one's looks for hopes of an advantage, Brenson?” Letting out a tsk of disappointment, I smirked back. “Especially when we both know that will never work on me.”
My father had once questioned if there was a romance between us and we’d struggled to not openly laugh in his face. I’d once seen Brenson use a poisonous noctura leaf to wipe after he’d relieved himself in the woods while we were playing tag, and after he flashed me while running to the stream to stop the burning sensation, I knew there was no coming back from that. We were completely and firmly in the friend zone.
This time I gave him no time to respond, rushing in with my blade following behind me. As he lifted his blade to block, expecting an attack from the front at my current trajectory, my foot planted into the ground and I spun over my shoulder, swinging my sword around with me as I barrel-rolled through the air. Our eyes locked as I pulled my blade just short of cutting deeply into his neck as soon as my feet hit the ground. The smallest trickle of blood ran down from his rapidly beating jugular as his eyes widened.
“Maybe I need to lay off the ale the night before our sessions,” he breathed out, shaking his head in seeming disbelief. “You’re getting damn quick on your feet.”
Our breaths mixed in puffs of steam floating through the cool, early morning air. We needed to end this soon, if the tendrils of light beginning to crest over the mountains in the distance were any indication. My eyes swung around the secluded training yard that was tucked behind the armory in the northern corner of the ward. It felt like a second home at this point. We’d practiced here undiscovered for years, since it was blocked partially by the stone wall of the storehouse.
“Admit defeat,” I demanded as my eyes narrowed, knowing this battle was not over until one of us did so. We’d graduated to theanything-goes-until-the-other-admits-defeatpart of training long ago. After all, it wasn’t as if real opponents would play by a code of conduct.
The cool metal hilt between my palms heated the longer I held it, showing our fusion. The blade was a part of me, and I, its master, and I’d be damned if I was ever forced to give it up. Even my own father, the king of Andrathya, hadn't been able to stop me from sneaking in sessions as a teenager despite his grumblings. I’d had nothing on the line then. What was he going to do, take away my crown if I took up the blade? He’d be doing me a favor.
Brenson’s crystal blue eyes ran along my face and body in a slow, practical way, trying to look for an opening out of our current positions.
A dark laugh bubbled in my chest. Leaning in close, despite him towering a few inches above me, I fluttered my lashes while looking up from beneath them. “If you don’t, shouldn’t you be afraid of the boys under your command coming out soon and seeing your ass on the ground, with the edge of my blade to your throat? I’m guessing that wouldn’t be good for morale within the ranks. End this.”
The crown princess fighting a commander of our army—and winning? Unheard of.
