A stone sinks through Marek’s gut. Kazia isn’t supposed to look so vulnerable. And Marek is suddenly, uncomfortably aware that beneath the poison, Kazia is smaller and far more fragile than Sei.
“What are you hiding, Kazia?” Marek asks quietly.
“My disgust,” Kazia says. “Wait, no. I’m not hiding it.”
Pushing for more won’t work. Kazia doesn’t trust him—which is fair, because Marek doesn’t trust Kazia either. Not yet. They hardly know each other. Marek wants to change that, though.
So, Marek doesn’t push. He just sets a small wooden box next to the tea set. “I have a gift for you. Do you remember Radovan’s message boxes?”
Kazia’s scowl doesn’t fade, but he doesn’t run either.
Marek continues. “Put a letter inside, close the lid, and the letter will teleport to the counterpart enchantment. This box has two chambers. The side with red sigils will send a letter to Vana. The side with blue sigils will send a letter to me.”
Sei slides an arm around Marek’s waist. Together, they savor the sight of Kazia’s jaw dropping.
“Writing to Vana would be treason,” Kazia says.
Marek shrugs. “Give the box to Father if you want. Vana’s too smart to send either of us anything important.”
That’s not quite true. Because the information they might send doesn’t matter. The important part is the mere existence of the message boxes. The new connection between the three Dire princes.
Schemes and circumstances have kept them apart. This gesture may end in disaster, but Marek wants to try forging a better family with his brothers.
Kazia doesn’t say anything. But he tucks the message box in a cupboard below the rat cages before stalking from the room.
“That went well,” Sei says brightly.
Marek laughs, finally relaxing. “You know, I think it did.”
***
“Welcome to House Dire, Sei.” Imrik raises his glass in toast. “I’m proud to have another son in the dragon corps.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Sei replies, and dread weighs down Marek’s lungs.
Sei and Kazia both transformed as they reached Imrik’s dining room. Marek had barely stifled his laughter. Sei stopped plastering himself to Marek’s side, as if afraid to be caught out by his husband’s parents. Kazia became a sweet, docile young man, permitting Aliza to fix his hair into a neater braid.
As the servants clear the dishes away, Marek’s laughter is gone.
He can’t decide what tips him off. Perhaps Imrik is too cheerful. Perhaps Aliza is simply too quiet, waiting instead of steering the conversation.
Gathering power. Bonding more dragons. Trading half a ton of scalestone for a Fellrian grail. A show of diplomacy to soften House Sandry’s guard. Today has been inevitable since the first dragon crossed into Silaise.
When the servants leave, Imrik raises his glass again. “I want the family to hear this before the official announcement.”
Aliza smiles. She must already know, of course. Imrik includes his queen in all his decisions.
Kazia turns pale.
“Silaise has broken ground on a second base for their renegade Skyguard.” Imrik’s every word strikes like metal on bone. “Draskora can no longer ignore their blatant provocation. When the solstice ends and the year begins, we will declare war on Silaise.”
Marek rests his hand on Sei’s shoulder. “Where do you want the dragon corps?”
Sei’s tension eases beneath Marek’s touch.
“We don’t want to obliterate our reclaimed territory,” Imrik says. “A wing or two to support the Silaisan border. Otherwise, defend the north and south. I’ll entrust the specifics to you.”
“Yes, Father.”
