Page 6 of Destiny of a King

It darted left, then right. Then it hovered so near his nose that he was forced to lean back.

Tiny hands settled firmly on tiny hips.

“King Fool.”

Dravic’s eyes narrowed. “Fairy.”

“Fiora. Are you too afraid to acknowledge me by name? Too afraid I would become all too real to you just as Adira may become all too real if you refuse to see the obvious.”

“I see Adira quite clearly,” he snapped, annoyed he was even speaking to the little pest.

Fiora’s tiny finger pointed toward Adira. “Is that so? Then you see that she hears with her hands.”

“At the moment, I see that her hands will freeze if she does not put her gloves on.”

Fiora rolled her eyes dramatically. “Your sight is far too narrow.”

“Mind your tongue,” he snapped again, growing more irritated.

“Or what?” she challenged, folding her arms. “You’ll finally catch me? You’ve not managed it yet.”

Dravic swung the gloves at her, striking nothing but air.

She had already vanished in a streak of golden light, her laughter dancing through the trees. “You missed!”

He swung again.

She darted behind his shoulder.

Again, he missed.

“A king who cannot even catch a fairy,” she taunted, laughing harder.

“I have had enough of your insolence,” he admonished and swatted once more.

Again, she slipped effortlessly aside.

Then—a snowball struck him squarely in the face. Snow slid down his cheek and along his jaw, before dropping onto his cloak.

Everything turned silent.

For one small heartbeat, Fiora stared in stunned silence, then she burst into delighted laughter. “She got you!”

The laughter died almost as quickly as it had begun.

Six guards reached instinctively for the hilts of their swords and hurried forward.

Dravic never looked their way. He simply raised one hand, the silent command stopping them where they stood.

His gaze remained fixed on Adira. She stood frozen, one hand still outstretched from throwing the snowball.

She had not meant to hit him in the face. She meant only to stop him from swinging at the fairy.

Her eyes darted from the snow still clinging to his cloak to Fiora, who hovered nearby laughing so hard she could scarcely remain aloft. Then she looked back to the king.

Slowly, very slowly, Dravic wiped the melting snow from his face. Then without a word, he bent and scooped up a handful of snow. Methodically, he packed it together, turning it once in his hands until it formed a perfect snowball.

The guards exchanged uneasy glances and took several steps back.