23

DARLING

The kiss has changed everything. And it is all I can think about.

As I ride with Talon, the warmth of his body seeping through where his hand rests on my hip, leaving what feels like a brand, I’m not thinking about Gavin. I don’t think about his last moments or why he had to rush into a situation he hadn’t properly assessed. I should be. I should be mourning! But instead I am trying to figure out a way to make it all work: freeing Leonetti, convincing House Kraken to work with the Dragons toward peace, and Talon.

I want it all, and I want Talon by my side until I get my fill of him.

He is not the first boy or girl I’ve felt like this about, but usually the fascination burns hot and fierce and fizzles out in a few days or weeks. And I want to let what is between us run its course. I know my mind will be occupied with nothing else until it does, and there is so much I have to do. At some point I will be regent of House Sphinx, and I will have to rebuild and figure out just what it means to have my own House.

But before I do, I want Talon. A few days, a week at most and we can go our separate ways. After all, what more can there be between us but a little physical exertion? His Teeth have been giving me death glares all morning, and he is a Dragon. The War Prince. It would never last.

This is how I convince myself that the things I feel for Talon aren’t a disrespect to Gavin’s memory. Gavin understood bodies and their urges. He was always the one to encourage me to go after someone I wanted, and I did the same for him. It hurts to know we will never pass a tin cup back and forth and share our stories of our romantic conquests again, and every time I think of him, I am so angry. It’s easier to focus on something else instead.

Talon pressed against my back, his war drake stepping lightly along the road, is an excellent distraction. I hope Gavin’s ghost, Chaos protect him, will understand.

When we arrive at House Barghest, a long hard ride that leaves everyone in a dark mood, there is no celebration to greet us. Instead, mourning banners in deepest violet drift off the turrets and ramparts, the misty, gray day making the purple material hang morosely. Servants and stable hands come out to wrangle the drakes, and their conversations are marked in low tones. There are no aristocrats to bow and scrape for the High Prince Regent’s arrival. The wake is scheduled for tonight, and as is the custom, the House scions will remain cloistered until it is time to celebrate the life of their regent.

Instead, as Talon hands me carefully to the ground, a liveried House Barghest servant offers to show me to my rooms, while Marjorie oversees the unloading of the single trunk I was able to bring along. Before I depart, I shoot one last heated glance at Talon, and the look in his eyes smolders.

“I’ll find you later,” he says before turning Kitty around to see to matters of his own. I watch him go, a moment too long, and when I turn back to the servant, Talon finally trusting me enough to let me check my own room, Finn sneers at me before following his prince. I ignore him, my head held high, and follow the servant into the fortress.

While the other House seats were pretty things with defense as an afterthought, House Barghest is nothing but an imposing defensive structure. The walls are made of thick stone blocks, and the massive structure backs up to a sheer sea cliff. I’ve sailed past on the seaward side, and I know there are cannons that line the ramparts for any who dare to get too close. The entrance features a portcullis and murder holes, and the only decor that alleviates the grim facade is a stained-glass window in shades of darkest gray. The thing depicted there is a huge, hulking dark beast with four legs and a face with a short muzzle and snarling fangs. A barghest.

The servant escorting me has not once met my eyes. I am beginning to think they do things a bit differently at House Barghest, because every servant I have seen looks like the joy has been ripped from them. The whole place gives me a feeling I dislike, like I have walked into a shadow on a chilly day and cannot find my way back to the sunshine.

I make it to my rooms with a minimum of fuss, although the moment with the servant leaves me unsettled. I refuse his offer of tea or a spirited beverage and pace until Marjorie arrives, two somber-faced youths carrying the trunk between them. When they leave, I round on Marjorie.

“What is this place?” I ask. “I know the regent just died, but the servants . . . they seem like someone has stolen everything they love. Surely their regent wasn’t that beloved?” Everyone in House Kraken seemed to love Leonetti, but I still can’t see the House being this distraught over his passing.

Her nose wrinkles in distaste. “Did no one tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“House Barghest is served by indentures, people who owe the House money. They work in exchange for their debts, signing contracts that can be as long as ten years.”

“What? How can that be?” I say. “Why would Caspian allow such a thing?”

Marjorie gives me a strange look, as though she cannot understand my dismay. “The High Prince Regent doesn’t concern himself with the affairs of other Houses, my quill. Would you like me to have a bath ordered for you before the wake this evening?”

I nod, and when Marjorie moves off to see to having the water brought up, I begin to pace. If the High Prince Regent doesn’t concern himself with House affairs, why would he take the artifacts from House Gryphon and House Cockatrice? Why would he twist himself into knots over “reparations” and reinstating House Sphinx? There’s something about the whole thing that isn’t sitting well with me, so I go to see the only person who can answer my questions.

Caspian’s rooms are in the same corridor as mine, and the soldier guarding the door isn’t Finn, but another of the Dragon’s Teeth. When he sees me, he gives a slight bow and opens the door to let me in without knocking.

“Ah! There you are,” Caspian says when I enter. He’s in a state of disarray, as usual, his trousers unbuttoned and a dressing robe thrown over his naked chest. A brass tub sits in the middle of the room, and children who look too small to carry buckets fill it slowly. Caspian doesn’t seem to notice them at all.

“How did you know I was coming to see you?” I ask, my suspicions about him having a prophecy boon flaring anew, and Caspian shrugs.

“I figured you’d want to see Leonetti as soon as possible, and I don’t think you’ll get much help from the House scions.”

I freeze as Caspian’s words land, my brain slow in parsing their meaning. “Leonetti is here?”

“Yes. Of course. Did I not tell you that? I thought you knew . . . huh. Always shifting, I have to be more cautious . . . If you aren’t here about Leonetti, why are you here?”

“To ask you why you would allow this House to enslave their own people.”

“Indenture is not slavery.”

“It’s close enough,” I say. “You have to do something about it. But first I want to see Leonetti.”

“Absolutely not. On both accounts. I have no desire to interfere in House business. And Leonetti is off limits for now. You cannot see him until after you are installed as the regent of House Sphinx. Then you can make a claim of reparations against House Barghest, who technically holds him now, and demand Leonetti’s release.”

“This is ridiculous,” I say, my voice rising. “I have gone along with your utter insanity, playing a game where only Chaos knows the rules, and you won’t even let me see Leonetti.” My anger is hot and sudden. I haven’t been this angry in a very long time.

“After you’re named,” Caspian says, his tone mild. As though he is discussing the chance of rain, not the fate of my adoptive father. I have never wanted to hit the High Prince Regent more.

For a moment I wonder if Gavin was right. What if this was all a trap? A ruse to get those who hate the Dragons into one place.

My hands fist, and Caspian’s eyes flick to my shoulder, where the hilts of the blades I wear are visible. “You also may want to consider disarming while in House Barghest. They do not take kindly to such indignities.”

“I don’t particularly like watching families sold into labor,” I say, pointing to a hollow-eyed little girl with wild curls dumping a bucket of water into Caspian’s bath. “But we must all make do.”

Caspian sighs heavily. “I will talk to the new regent after he is named. He is but a child and will be easily swayed. There is a way these things are done . . .” Caspian trails off, watching another child dump a bucket and leave. “I dislike the practice greatly as well. I will urge the new regent to do away with it altogether.”

“And Leonetti?” I ask, hating the hope that enters my voice.

“Later,” Caspian says. “I promise your father will soon be free of all of this.”

The tub is now full, and Caspian begins to unrobe with the help of his valet. I take it as a dismissal and sketch a quick bow as is expected before leaving.

“Darling.”

I turn around, and Caspian stares at me with a frown. “Be wary of jeweled serpents.”

I blink. “What?” I say, but Caspian is already turning back to his bath as though he hadn’t even spoken. I take my leave.

Out in the corridor I’m too agitated to return to my rooms, so I ask a passing servant how to get to the gardens. But when I get to the entrance, I am informed the gardens are off limits due to the preparations for the wake, and the soldier guarding the door suggests I walk the ramparts instead.

“It’s a good place to work off some energy,” he says, a hopeful glint in his eye. “I could accompany you, my quill, if you would like.”

I wish for half a moment he were Talon before thanking him for his generous offer and assuring him I can find the way by myself.

There are several staircases to get to the ramparts, and the last reminds me strangely enough of Caspian’s winding staircase to his tower. Only, when I get to the top, the door does not open out onto a room full of paintings of my life, but rather a stunning view of the ocean. The water is choppy and froths, as though the seas share my agitation.

“It seems I am not the only one who needed a bit of air.”

Aurora, Talon and Caspian’s aunt, walks with a retinue of ladies. I don’t recognize any of them, but they titter when they see me. I didn’t realize she’d be here, but of course. Instead of Dragon regalia, Aurora wears a deep purple dress. She does not wear the gaudy medallion from our last meeting, but a decorative collar that appears to be an emerald dragon wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, do you like it?” she asks, when she sees me studying it. “It was a gift of the previous House regent before his passing.”

“It’s definitely striking,” I say, Caspian’s words still fresh in my mind. Prophecy it is. I have to tell Talon.

“Join us, will you?” Aurora says, the other women watching me silently. I’m reminded of the wild drakes that attacked our caravan, the pack of them snarling and biting.

“I am afraid I am not very pleasant company after the day’s travels,” I say apologetically.

“Ah, of course,” Aurora says with a smile. She whispers something to the woman closest to her, and everyone but Aurora turns and walks back the other way, a couple of the women throwing glances over their shoulders.

“There, now it is just us,” Aurora says, her voice too bright. “Will you walk with me? Surely after all the time you’ve spent with my nephews we’re practically family.”

There’s a threat in her voice, and her insinuation is clear. “I’m afraid I’ve spent more time with my maids, but I thank you for your concern.” I don’t move from where I stand, refusing to let her intimidate me.

“How sad that you’ve already forgotten the teachings of your etiquette tutor,” Aurora says with a laugh, and I cross my arms.

“So true. But then again, I was a soldier long before I was a scion. So let us speak in the manner of soldiers, plainly and directly. I don’t trust you, and I have no idea what you want with me, but I have no desire to be roped into your political maneuvering.”

Aurora laughs, the sound high and clear. “My, you are refreshing. Now I understand why my nephew is so fascinated with you.” She steps closer. It’s perhaps meant to intimidate, but I stand my ground. Her lipstick is too red for her pale skin, and I remember the blood behind her ear at our last meeting. There is something unsettling about the woman, and I have to wonder just how she became the Dragon Seer. Did she twist Caspian’s gifts to her own purposes, or does a prophecy boon run in the family?

“I have seen you,” she says, her voice flat, her friendly affect evaporating. “I will not let you destroy my House or my nephews.”

“Your House is Cockatrice, correct?” I say, and she startles a bit. “I can assure you that the House is still there, though it seems it suffers from a distinct lack of courage. Very beautiful art, though.” Before she can respond, I turn to watch the waves, the dismissal clear. “Next time you threaten me, bring some steel along with it, because I can guarantee you that next time it happens, I will not hesitate to draw my sword.”

I don’t see her reaction, but I sense her pulling back. The nice thing about my goggles is they hide my eyes, and I know she’s trying to parse whether or not I would cut her down. That is the benefit in being a former Barb. My reputation precedes me.

“You are not long for this world. Chaos will take you back to the sewers where you belong,” she says, venom in her voice, before she departs in a swish of skirts. I stand and watch the sea for another long moment, just breathing in the salty air, so familiar and yet so different on this coast.

I want peace, and to rebuild House Sphinx. Once I am regent, I will be able to use my resources to help Leonetti rebuild House Kraken, and without a war the country can finally move forward to something that works for everyone beyond the elites. It’s a good goal.

But how am I supposed to survive the aggravation of politics?