Surely he was not trying to barter for my hand.
I clenched the napkin in my lap. If he’d take me ruined and ragged, his might be the only offer I’d get.
But Father would never allow it.
He leaned forward, sparks crackling at the edge of his spoon. “Caves explored by Draconis’ Vessels. Pearls gathered by Draconis’ divers. Ships crafted from Wild Shore lumber, secured by my Dragon Riders. Tell me, what benefits could you offer in exchange for my priceless treasure?”
I shrank in my seat, a child again, longing to hide behind him.
“No one else would have her, now that–”
The spoon shot forward. Mother’s hand snapped to Father’s wrist, her intervention halting the utensil before it stabbed into Jehoikim’s eye.
The man bolted upright, but an invisible force pinned him. He shouted. Argos roared overhead, stone trembling beneath our feet. Silence fell. The spoon hovered, unmoving.
“If you speak of my daughter again,” Father hissed, “I will scoop your greedy eye from its socket and feed it to you.”
“Chief Jehoikim.” My voice held firm, though my thoughts frayed and my heart thrashed against my ribs. “I’m granted the right to select my husband. I may accept or refuse the match.”
My confidence cracked, but I feigned steel, lifting my chin and locking eyes with the chieftain in what I hoped resembled a dragon’s glare.
“I would not choose you.”
The spoon clattered to the table. Father had dropped the magic. Across from me, the portly man squirmed, his squinted gaze flicking between us, sweat shining at his temples.
“The Dragon’s Heart has spoken.” Father’s voice rang through the hall—measured, cold, final. “So have I.”
He surged to his feet. We scrambled up in his wake. Without a glance, he spun on his heel and stormed down the steps, his cloak snapping behind him. He barked a command at Zane as he passed.
The warmth of his support turned brittle, withering into shame. He couldn’t even bear the sight of me.
I locked my jaw and swallowed the rising ache. Jehoikim still watched. I was a princess. I wouldn’t accept defeat.
Chapter Four
It was late when I finally retreated from the dining hall.Staggeredmight’ve been the appropriate term, but I clung to retain any shreds of my remaining dignity.
“Nienna!”
My brother’s voice flared something hot in my chest. I refused to slow, pushing toward our floor.
“Wait!”
“I don’t think I will, Ronan,” I snapped. “You didn’t.”
“Stop.” He hissed the word and snatched my arm.
I whirled, my palm cracking against his face. The sound echoed down the Cireendium’s stone corridor.
“You stupid wench!” he snarled, grabbing for my wrist.
“Don’t call me that!”
I jerked against his grip, but he held it fast, blue eyes blazing. A handprint bloomed across his cheek, filling me with a wicked sense of satisfaction.
“Then stop acting like one! I came to help you!”
Voice low and venomous, I leaned in close. “I don’twantyour help!”
