A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (4 page)

Before he finished speaking, Leena had
jumped into his chest, trusting him to catch her. Burying her head
in his neck, she smiled, wider than she ever had before, happier in
that moment than any time she had ever known—as though her heart
would burst, unable to contain the mounting joy.

Mikza caught her, held her high, and laughed
carefree with her, mad with love. He spun her around, letting the
water on her dress fly off into the night air, spatter around the
room, each droplet a little beat in their song.

We'll do it. We'll escape.

Leena had faith. Love was the only thing her
father did not understand, so she had to believe it was the only
thing he would not suspect. Love, after all, was not the Ourthuri
way.

But it was her way.

Their way.

Their freedom.

Three

Marriages were supposed to be happy things, but
Leena could not remove the ribbon of panic knotting her insides.
With every passing hour, she was brought closer and closer to her
father's attention. And in a few short minutes, all eyes would be
on her.

Her sister's wedding had taken place that
afternoon in the garden terrace with the sun god playing witness as
well as most of the city. It had been beautiful, not that Leena
paid much more attention than sitting silently with a smile on her
face, a mask covering her growing neurosis, her tumultuous and
distracting emotions.

During the ceremony, her sister had been the
center of attention. But now, the celebrations were about to begin.
Tonight, every lord in Da'astiku would approach the king, asking to
wed his son to the newest available princess of the kingdom.
Unfortunately, Leena was next in line—a shiny gold coin they would
now all want to own.

The same thing had happened to Fayrih. In
less than four months after their elder sister's wedding, she was
engaged to a wealthy noble house, chained and bound to this city
forever.

Leena vowed never to share that fate.

She glanced in the mirror, confused by the
woman who stood before her. Pale skin from a lifetime spent
pampered indoors, naturally olive, begging for the sun. Dark ebony
hair that fell down in curled tresses, uncut for most of her life,
now twisted and spun into an overflowing knot atop her head. Large
eyes, too large for her petite face, with golden accents painted
all around, bringing out the honey in her irises.

A princess.

But it was not how she saw herself. This
girl was weak, demure, meant for nothing other than a life of
birthing sons. Leena wanted so much more for herself. She was
stronger than that fate.

"Almost done, my Princess," her maid said.
Leena smiled her consent—she was used to these preparations. A few
more metal trinkets in her hair and it would be complete.

She stared into the mirror, looking behind
her face and toward her bed. Hidden underneath, scrunched among her
dress boxes, was a small suitcase, almost filled.

Mikza had gathered peasant clothes for both
of them, dried food reserves, and weapons just in case. Leena had
stolen gold coins and a few pieces of jewelry from her vast
collection. Not enough to go unnoticed in this palace, but enough
for some people to live off for a lifetime.

There was only one more item they needed in
order to leave. One Mikza promised he could find tonight.

"Time for your veil, my Princess."

Leena refocused her gaze, watching as
elegantly woven chain-link gold was dropped over her face. So odd
that so much time and effort went into beautifying her features,
only to have them covered up and hidden from the world.

"Stop," Leena said, lifting a hand. "I will
do it myself. Please leave, I would like a few minutes alone."

Mikza waited outside her door, guarding it,
as was his duty. But she wanted to see him just for a minute
without metal hanging over her eyes, slightly obscuring her
vision.

"As you wish, my Princess."

Her maid turned and left, closing the door
softly behind her. Leena stood, eyes still on the stranger before
her. The dress was new, sewn especially for this occasion. Her
sleeves were open and translucent, revealing the tattoos that
painted her arms. The golden silks flowed around her narrow frame,
elongating her legs. An ornate belt cinched her waist, sparkling
with diamonds, matching the coins around her ankles. Every time she
stepped, she jingled slightly.

What would it be like to wear dull brown
garments, roughly woven so they scratched the skin? To be able to
dress herself? To show her face, rather than cover it with lotions
and powders and veils?

To be with Mikza in the daylight, surrounded
by other people without fear of discovery?

Would she ever feel so free?

The knot squeezed tighter. Leena took a deep
breath, pushing her stomach against her belt as far as it would go,
trying to calm her rising nerves. For some reason, she could not
shake this feeling of dread rising inside her.

A knock sounded. Two fast followed by one
slow. Their sign.

Her anxiety lifted slightly as she walked to
the door, opening it to let Mikza inside.

"I found it," he said, excited as he entered
and quickly shut the door behind him. He pulled a small jar from
his pocket, holding it so Leena could see. There was no label, but
she knew what it was.

A very expensive lotion. A lotion created to
perfectly match her skin-tone. Thin enough to easily slide over her
arms, but thick enough to hide the black swirls branding her as
princess. In a country where tattoos meant class and everyone spent
the days with arms uncovered in the heat, this lotion was her only
ticket to freedom.

And it had cost a fortune.

Mikza had found a merchant used to working
outside the law, a man he would normally have arrested, but instead
paid very well to procure this ointment for them.

Leena ached to try it, to cover her arms and
run that very instant, but instead she covered Mikza's hands with
hers and kissed him quickly.

"We should leave tonight, after the
celebration," she pleaded. The knot in her stomach was lessening
now that she knew they had everything they needed. "Everyone will
be resting, probably drunk and not at all on guard. The palace will
be quiet."

"I agree," he said, and she released a heavy
breath, forcing the tension from her body. Tonight. She had a
timeline now, a countdown to freedom. She was almost out of her
father's grasp. "Keep this with you, in case anything happens. Is
there anywhere you can hide it?"

Leena looked down at her gown. The jar was
smaller than her fist, but there were no pockets, no folds that
could hold it.

"I will have to keep it here," she said and
pulled the glass free from his grip. Their bag was sandwiched too
far under her bed to retrieve now, but there was nowhere else she
trusted the vial to remain hidden.

Her clothes belonged to the maids that
dressed her. It was their job to rifle through her drawers. And the
topside of the bed belonged to the servants who snuck in every
morning to carefully pull her sheets back into place and fluff the
pillows. Even in her room, nothing truly belonged to just her.

Nothing, except…

Leena jumped into action, remembering the
one thing no one would dare touch. On the lower shelf of her
bedside table rested a jeweled box, just large enough to hold her
shoes. But it held something much more precious. A lock of her
mother's hair, a strand of her pearls, and the note she had written
her unborn child in case it was a girl and they would never meet.
Even in this place so devoid of love, the servants knew to leave
those possessions alone.

Careful not to wrinkle her dress, Leena
knelt down and slipped the little jar into her mother's box, hoping
an angel would protect it.

Mikza dropped a hand on her shoulder. She
felt his skin through the thin layer of her dress, warm and
inviting. Leena stood, meeting him, sharing words without needing
to speak. He brushed his fingers along her cheek, careful not to
smudge her makeup, just light enough to make her skin buzz.

Leena did not need to be so cautious, and
she gripped his arms, never wanting to let go, wishing that if she
just held on strong enough he could carry her away.

"I should leave," he sighed. They had been
too long already. He started to turn away, but Leena would not let
go.

"If this is to be my last ball, I want to
dance with you. Just once, I want to be all dressed up, staring at
the man I love, smiling and not pretending."

His eyes softened and his hand fell to her
waist, gripping her ribs just above her belt, a little higher than
was proper. With his other hand, he traced the length of her arm,
searching for and eventually finding her fingers.

"Just once, I will be the man you are
dancing with," he whispered, "instead of the man watching from the
shadows."

There was no music, but at the same time,
Leena felt she heard strains of a melody on the breeze. A secret
song meant just for them, a beat they both stepped to, swayed their
hips to. The coins around her ankles sounded like bells, beautiful
and melodic as she followed Mikza's lead. Leena wished to let her
head fall against his chest, to pull him close, but she could not
risk damaging her carefully created face, not if her father
actually did choose tonight to finally notice her.

So instead, she let the feel of his muscles
shifting below her fingers, coiling and releasing, lull her. The
perfect curve of his smile brought one to her lips, the twinkle in
his eyes, she was sure, did the same.

Time seemed to stop, and then he pushed her
away, spinning her in a wide triumphant circle, only to pull her
close again, laughter adding to their song.

Leena could stay like this forever.

But they both seemed to sense when their
time drew to an end.

"Tonight," Leena whispered, like a
prayer.

Mikza nodded, reaching for the door, but
before he got there, the knob moved, twisting, scratchy and rough
in Leena's ear.

Her jaw dropped, eyes widening, and Mikza
jumped to the side just as the door swung open. His body was still
visible, a thin shadow cast along the floor, but he was mostly
hidden behind the now open frame.

"Leenaka?"

She couldn’t breathe. It was her elder
sister, Yasmine, dressed up for the ball.

"Is someone else in here?"

Leena found her voice, rushing toward her
sister to keep her from stepping any farther into the room.

"No, of course not. I was just singing to
myself. Are you ready to go?"

"I did not see your guard, is he not
supposed to be here as your escort? Even in the palace, your safety
is not assured."

Leena rolled her eyes, trying her best to
look exasperated. "Yes, I know. I have heard the same lecture
before, but I sent him off early to the ball. I was hoping for a
few minutes alone."

"Nervous?" Her sister smiled, putting up a
display of nicety but only to hide the sinister undertone of that
statement. They looked similar, but Leena had no foolish notions of
affection from Yasmine. Siblings, especially twelve girls, were not
encouraged to love one another, not in this family. Each had their
own mother to mourn, their own marriage to secure, their own ploys
to gain the attention of their father. No, competition was the
Ourthuri way, not love.

Yasmine was older, married, and a mother.
But that did not mean she would not rat Leena out to their father
if she thought it might gain his favor.

"Of course not, why should I be?" Leena
shrugged, innocently widening her gaze and raising her eyebrows.
"It is my turn next, though I guess someone as old and wise as you
barely remembers what it was like before you were engaged. I bet
you can hardly recall the rush of having suitors begging for a
dance."

Her sister's smile faltered. "Yes, the
foolish whims of teenage girls are behind me. Are you ready to
leave? I will walk you, so you do not dishonor this house
meandering the halls alone."

"Thank you, Yasmine. I trust you always have
my best interest at heart. I will just need a moment to put on my
veil."

Leena stepped backward, hoping her sister
would not follow, unsure if Mikza was well enough hidden for
scrutiny. But Yasmine just waited in the doorway with arms crossed,
a slight scowl dirtying her otherwise lovely face.

Quickly, Leena grasped her veil, fixing the
crown in the bed of her hair and slipping in two gold clasps to
keep it steady. She kept her eyes on Yasmine as best she could,
watching her sister's gaze travel around the length of her room,
searching for some secret. But her expression never changed to one
of victory. Her cool stance never lightened. And before she could
look any further, Leena turned back around, ready to face the
party.