Dragonoak: The Complete History of Kastelir (52 page)

“I guess babysitting isn't all that bad,” I said, still on my first drink. I downed the ale in small sips, not possessing half the tolerance Akela did.

Katja took a break from dancing and sat by my side, not treating me any differently than she had a week ago. It was all in my head, just like always; I'd overreacted, assuming whatever I thought and felt was written all over me, for anyone to pick apart.

“Just a few months until the wedding, now!” she said. “Goodness, I can scarcely believe it. It would've been sooner, if not for all that has happened of late... Oh, but you will come to the ceremony, won't you?”

“I... if you really want me there,” I said, trying to smile. Katja knew nothing of what Felheim was truly doing, or the moves Kastelir would eventually make against it. I gulped down a great mouthful of ale, doing what I could to disguise how sorry I felt for her. “How did you meet the Prince? I didn't think Kastelir and Felheim had much contact.”

“They don't, which is something I very much intend to change,” Katja said, far more eager to speak on this matter than the wedding itself. “Prince Alexander actually set things into motion. He's always been overshadowed by his siblings, and felt it was about time he did something for his Kingdom. And so he reached out to us, writing to the Kings and Queen—the letter was not deemed of great importance, and eventually came into my care. As for the rest... well, here we are.”

I wondered if we could use that, if Katja's link to Prince Alexander would be enough to entice Felheim into giving up control of the dragons. Their union would give the Kingdoms the opportunity to understand one another, and surely Felheim could set fear of invasion aside. It was a thought I quickly shrugged off. If it would've worked, someone else would've brought it up already.

“Heads up,” Kouris said, tilting her horns towards the crowd gathered under the marquee.

I swivelled on the bench and stared out at the masses, not knowing what I was searching for; not seeing Claire, though she was right in front of me. I was so used to seeing her in armour, leather and bone alike, that I skimmed straight past the woman in the dress, still searching through the crowd for a handful of seconds.

Akela was right: Claire certainly looked the part. Queen Kidira must've ordered her to dress like that for the festivities within the castle, but Claire looked as comfortable in what she was wearing as I'd ever known her to be. Her white dress reached all the way down to her ankles, fading into greys and blacks towards the bottom, and her hair was pinned up simply but neatly, neck and shoulders bare, save for the thin straps holding her dress up.

Claire lifted her brow and I realised I was staring. I hopped off the bench, caught my foot on the edge, and almost tripped over in an effort to greet her.

She was more amused than alarmed, and I managed a “Hi—!”, immediately regretting how little I'd had to drink. I held out my hands, not sure what I was trying to do with them, and brought them back to my sides, well aware of how much I was smiling. I bit the inside of my cheek, but it was of no use; out of the hundreds of people gathered, and amidst all the attention she'd garnered, Claire was looking at me.

“Hi,” I said. Again. “You look—your hair, it's, uh. You look nice!”

Maybe I'd had too much to drink.

Claire was mercifully kind and didn't laugh at me. Her cheeks were red from the brisk walk into Asos, and when she leant over to kiss my cheek, I managed to stop rocking on the balls of my feet.

“I wasn't certain you'd still be here,” she said, “I came straight from the castle, once my presence was no longer required.”

Spending the day with Kouris had been perfect, and I was grateful to have someone whose company I could enjoy while we were doing nothing but nap. I wouldn't have changed it for the world, but I lit up so much with Claire in front of me that I forgot I was supposed to speak. I was caught up in looking at her look at me, no longer aware of anyone around us.

Until one of the dancers bumped into my shoulder and span off without realising they'd collided into me.

“Shall we?” Claire asked, gesturing towards the others.

“Right—” I said, and didn't move. Out of nowhere, I decided it was now or never. My fingers dipped into my pocket, brushing against the scrap of cloth, and Claire stood there patiently as I sucked in a breath and said, “I got you something. For the Phoenix Festival. It's what they do here. That's what I was told, anyway.”

The corners of Claire's mouth flickered into a hint of a smile, and my stomach sunk to my soles when I noticed the thin, silver chain she was already wearing around her neck. Of course she already had something of the sort, something that hadn't been bought from a merchant's cart. Still, now that the words were out of my mouth, I didn't have much of a choice. I held out the handful of cloth to Claire and she carefully peeled it back, taking hold of the chain between her thumb and first finger.

She held it up, silver feather twisting, and I looked down at the floor, at my feet. Anywhere but at Claire.

“Rowan...”

“It was just, I saw it and I thought you'd like it. It's fine if you don't want to wear it, though. I know you probably—”

“
Rowan
.” Claire tapped a finger beneath my chin, urging me to look back up. “It's beautiful. Thank you.”

She took my hand, placed the necklace against my palm, and reached to the back of her neck, unhooking the one she was already wearing. The end of the chain dipped into her dress, and when she pulled it off, I saw the small silver key from Praxis hanging from it. Claire kept it in her hand as she turned around, crouching just enough for me to be able to put the necklace on for her.

With her hair up, there was nothing to hold out of the way, but loose strands brushed against my knuckles and my fingers weren't as steady as they could've been. My heart clenched like a fist with the fear that she wouldn't like the gift, and it was only then that I began to understand that it wasn't
just
a gift; I was trying to show her that I cared, and more than I could rightly say.

The chain was shorter than the one she'd been wearing, and when she turned around, the feather rested just beneath her collarbone. My heart released, pounding freely once more, and Claire hummed thoughtfully, before putting the chain in her hand around my neck, key hanging from it.

“I'm afraid I wasn't aware of this particular Kastelirian tradition until the ball, and had no time to get anything on the way here,” she explained. “Look after this for me—I don't have any pockets.”

I laughed softly, because no amount of smiling was enough, pressing my fingers to the metal as I tried to meet her gaze without my face burning.

“We should...” I said, spinning on my heels, meaning to head over to the others, but Claire caught hold of my wrist, turning me back around.

“What?” I asked, when she didn't say anything.

Claire didn't move from the spot, but a playful smile crossed her face, and it was the most ominous thing I'd ever seen. With her fingers tight around my wrist, she pulled me a step closer, and all at once, it dawned on me where we were, and what everyone around us was doing.

“You want to...” I got half a sentence out, and Claire nodded. “Um. I don't think I
can
.”

Claire swept her arm out around the marquee, making her point without words. Knowing how to dance didn't seem to be a requirement. Everyone was moving out of time with one another, some people entirely unaware of what the band was playing, and though shoulders were being bumped and feet were being stepped on, there wasn't a single person who wasn't enjoying themselves.

“I have spent the entire day
watching
nobles dance. Despite my current attire, I didn't once leave my station. Unlike Akela, I do not possess the courage necessary to ask Queen Kidira for a dance,” Claire explained. “Please?”

She held out a hand and I instinctively took it. There was her answer.

“Did you used to dance a lot?” I asked, focusing so hard on where to put my hands that I forgot how to move them. Claire took hold of my wrists, placed my hands on her shoulders, then put her own hands on my hips.

“Indeed. There is always something to celebrate within the capital, if only to have an excuse to bring people together,” she said, and then did the thing that'd been terrifying me. She stepped to the side, moving me along with her. “Balls and feasts are the battlegrounds of the high-born. Dance poorly and you lose the favour of three noble houses with a single step.”

I made no reply, too busy thinking that I mustn't step on her foot, I mustn't step on her foot, on the verge of cringing every time I took a step and didn't know if there'd only be soil beneath my soles. The music was hardly fitting, I thought: it was too fast, too upbeat, for the way we held each other close.

“And...” I started, daring to speak, since my feet had yet to betray me. “What's in those bags you locked away?”

“Things I couldn't bring myself to leave behind in Felheim,” Claire said, having enough faith in me to begin moving more quickly. “Belongings of sentimental value, for the most part. I thought them safer in Praxis than dragged all the way across Kastelir.”

The song changed, but we remained as we were. I knitted my fingers together against the nape of Claire's neck, content to lose myself amongst a sea of dancers and a cacophony of noises, people laughing, glasses clinking together, instruments coming to life. And though it wasn't the sort of celebration Claire had grown up attending, I knew the lack of tiled floors and ornate chandeliers didn't mean a thing to her.

Spending time around people like Kouris and Akela made it easy to forget how tall Claire was, but this served as reminder enough. She bowed her head to kiss me, and though she'd done so before, this was different. Anyone could've seen us, anyone could've seen her, but she didn't care. She kissed me and it didn't even occur to her to hide it from anyone.

Claire pulled back, and I rested my face against her shoulder, not once steeping on her feet, not once caring how foolish I might've looked.

We danced for hours or minutes, until the band changed, and Kouris took the chance to swoop over and steal Claire from me. Intent on remaining unflappable, Claire rose to the challenge, and Akela span me on the spot until I was dizzy with laughter. Katja watched from the benches, and the four of us took a break to have a drink.

A drink turned into three and night gave up its dominion to morning, and as we wandered back to the castle, my whole body buzzed enough for me to believe that we'd travelled all this way for no reason other than to come together as we had. Claire walked with her hand in mine as the rising sun brought colour back to the city, and with my body buzzing from drink and dance, nothing could've convinced me that the Phoenix Festival would end in fire.

*

I slept through till midday, waking groggily, smiling so much that not even a yawn could stop my cheeks from aching. I stretched out, fell back against the pillow, and spent far too long telling myself that I was going to get up in a few more seconds. Eventually, I pulled myself out of bed to be rid of the slight headache ale and wine had left behind. A lunch that served as breakfast was brought to me within moments, and I gulped down the better part of an entire pitcher, and meandered over to the window.

The Phoenix Festival continued to consume the city, and I knew of no reason why Queen Kidira wouldn't demand that Claire work through today, as well. Half an hour of aimless wandering didn't bring me any closer to finding out where Kouris was, and I spent much of the day down in the stables with Charley and Calais. One of the stable-hands grudgingly let me walk them around the grassy castle grounds when she was certain there weren't any nobles taking lessons, and I guided them between trees, a rein in each hand.

They'd both been grateful for the rest, having carried us through Felheim and Kastelir alike, but being idle was starting to grate on them. I could tell they were restless.

“Don't worry,” I reassured them, “I'm sure we'll get out of here soon. Maybe we could ride out to meet Michael.”

He'd written once, to tell Claire that the pane were delaying their visit to Kastelir, in light of recent events, and that he'd be back within a fortnight. The thought of his return didn't trouble me as it might've a few days ago, and I tricked myself into thinking that time spent with the pane might've caused him to reflect on his own behaviours. In truth, it was far more likely that he'd be bloated with self-worth for all that he'd learnt, and continue where he'd left off.

The stable-handmade frantic gestures at me as a group of children saddled up their horses, and I guided Charley and Calais back towards the stables, only to have my path abruptly blocked.

“Rowan! Good afternoon,” Katja said almost too brightly. She fidgeted with her hands, pressing her palms together, and I supposed that her duties around the castle had prevented her from getting enough sleep. “Is this Sir Ightham's horse? Goodness, he's absolutely gorgeous—and this other one, is he yours?”

“Calais and Charley,” I said, introducing them.

Immediately losing interest in the horses, Katja lowered her voice, as though they were likely to eavesdrop, and said, “I hope this isn't too much of a bother, dear, but there's something I absolutely have to talk to you about.”

I knew what it was. The sun slipped from behind a cloud to glare down at me, and coupled with the pounding between my temples, it was too bright to see, too foggy to think. I should've said that I didn't have time, that I was supposed to be meeting with Kouris or Claire, but Katja's suspicions would only be confirmed if I ran.

“Katja, I—”

“
Please
, Rowan,” she said, gripping my hand.

Something in the way I looked at her betrayed me. She took Calais' reins, as if it was already decided, and I followed on heavy feet, leading the horses back to their pens.

We headed through the castle without another word. There were hundreds of things Katja could want to talk to me about, I told myself. There was a problem with her upcoming wedding, or Felheim had abruptly cut off all contact; her uncle's funeral had been two days ago, of course she needed someone to talk to; the castle was flooded with diplomats from the Old West, pleading their case for the crown, while others argued that anyone should be eligible for the throne, now that the territories were long-dead; she needed someone impartial to hear her out, that was all.