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I suddenly remember the day that Kradmi announced his betrayal to my parents. That was the first time I had seen such shining emotion on the face of any naga.
He was talking about love.
But Kradmi is an outlier and certainly does not speak for all naga.
“Father, if I may, is there no way…”
He cuts me off before I can go any further.
“There is no way.” His voice booms. I am sure that the entire castle can hear us. Including Slyth.
“We are not breaking this agreement now. You will be marrying Vippera, and you will put your personal feelings aside.”
My mother nods along, though I see the look of disgust on her face at the mention of Vippera’s name.
My mother is a very elegant, feminine naga. Well, as feminine as a naga woman can be. And everyone knows that Vippera is the furthest thing from elegant or feminine on Protheka.
I suppose she’s had to be violent and brutal and masculine to get where she is,I think idly to myself.
“You have to understand.” My father’s tail curls rapidly around my legs and tail. This movement forces me to remain still and listen to him. It is an old tactic, something he has been doing since my childhood. “This agreement will be good for our kingdom. It will unite both our tribes, and as the only Prince of this kingdom, it is your duty to do this.”
My mother flinches at my father’s words.
He has completely disowned Kradmi, Mother. What did you expect?I want to ask her, but I keep my mouth shut.
My mother may have agreed to disown my older brother, but I do not think she expected my father to wipe clean his existence from our family.
I haven’t mentioned my brother’s name since his betrayal.
We are not allowed to.
Before I can say anything to plead my case, there is a heavy, booming knock on the meeting room’s door.
The person on the other side of the door enters before any of us can say anything.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Your Majesty.” It is a messenger naga, and he addresses each of us with a bow before he relays what is clearly an urgent message to my father.
The messenger naga whispers the message in my father’s ear, and I want to roll my eyes. Both my mother and I are royals. It is not as though we cannot be trusted.
My father’s tail uncurls from around my legs and tail, and he speaks urgently.
“We need to leave. Now.”
3
AURORA
Ihave heard of the wars between the naga and the orcs. I have even heard about the clashes between the orcs and dark elves on other continents from humans who have been brought from other continents to work on Nagaland.
This has to be what war is like. There is no other word for this. This is war.
It is clear to my father almost immediately that the naga army that has invaded our village is not Lodra’s naga army.
I figure out why soon after.
The flags they carry are not the flags of Lodra.
My blood goes cold as I catch a glimpse of the flag’s colors. Blue and gold. The colors of Jalma.
