Kastali Dun

Merrian sat silently on her throne—Queen Claire's throne. She offered the occasional nod or murmur of greeting as courtiers came before the king to sort out matters of importance. Court was held daily, with both morning and afternoon sessions. On top of those, there were meetings with the merchant's guild, various craftsman guilds, the lower council, and so on, and so forth. While she wasn't expected to attend everything, Reyr insisted on her presence for most.

Perhaps he was secretly trying to torture her?

"I heard you went into the city yesterday," Reyr said, looking out over the cathedral style hall. "To the Pauper's District, no less." His words were quiet, low enough to go unheard by others. They were taking a short intermission, thus, courtiers were socializing, freely moving about the throne room.

"I did," she confirmed. "Dallin accompanied me. As did the queen's guard."

"I'm aware." A long pause, then, "Dallin informed me that you visited the homeless shelters and spent time with their sick."

Her jaw clenched. She had taken a liking to Dallin, but she felt almost...betrayed that he'd reported her comings and goings. It made her wonder how much he'd told Reyr.

"I wasn't aware that spending time with the sick was a sin."

"It isn't. But I need not tell you how dangerous it is."

"Oh? I wasn't aware that showing compassion for our citizens was."

"I'm talking about your health," he hissed. Oh. Oh! So...he didn't know. Which meant Dallin hadn't told him everything. She was relieved to know that. It made their friendship more meaningful. "It would be inconvenient, should you take ill," Reyr continued. "Humans aren't blessed with perfect health. You cannot be risked."

A small scoff burst from her lips. "Firstly, Your Majesty, there are healers for that. I'm a queen now, apparently. I can afford even the most expensive healer, should I take ill." Unlike the poor folk in the shelters she'd visited. "Secondly, being a healer myself, it is unlikely that I—"

"What are you talking about?"

She laughed, because he really didn't know. "Princess Taylynn didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" Reyr's gaze remained on the courtiers, tracking their movements.

"That I'm not human. That I'm a mage—a low level mage, sure. I have magic, nonetheless. Long life. The ability to heal more quickly than a human because my blood."

Reyr tensed beside her. He didn't like not knowing this. Perhaps if he'd taken the time to get to know her, he wouldn't feel so blindsided. "Be that as it may," he said, "there are already charities set up for the the lower districts. You cannot simply drain our coffers without following the proper protocol."

She rocked her jaw side to side, irritation clouding her vision. "Believe me, I'm well aware of the charities. Well aware of how well they actually serve their purpose. And you need not worry, Your Majesty, the money I spent yesterday was from my own personal account. You know, the one you pay into, so that I can be here, disguised as your missing queen?"

His eyes darted to her before quickly returning to the view before him. He had nothing to say to that. Good.

The throne room was called to order, as the steward introduced the next person to come before the king. She wanted to listen, to focus, but she was fuming. Her head filled with angry buzzing, like she'd stuck it into a hive of bees.

The next patron, a woman, spoke with the king for several minutes. A decision was made—Mer couldn't have said what. She clenched her muscles tightly, watching as the woman walked away.

"Why do you hate me so much?" she whisper-hissed before the next patron was announced. She regretted the words before they were out.

A breath blew from Reyr's nose. "Hate is a strong word. Dislike would be better."

Her mouth popped open and she quickly closed it. She knew he didn't like her. Hearing him say it aloud shouldn't be unexpected. "I did absolutely nothing to you. Other than being here. Taylynn asked me to take this position. Should I have refused?"

The next patron was announced and Reyr motioned them forward. "...No," he said after a long pause. His jaw clenched. The admission had cost him.

"Then why?"

"I'm allowed to dislike people. There's no law that says I have to like everyone in existence."

It was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. She wanted to tell him that, and yet, she still struggled to speak her mind. The constant reminder to be seen and not heard—his words—haunted her.

What if she just...slipped away? Left. Abandoned this ungrateful male and left him to flounder on his own.

No. She needed to stop thinking this way. Taking a deep, calming breath, she attempted to focus on the court proceedings.

Try as she might, her mind kept popping back to the king beside her. He hadn't answered her question. Being allowed to dislike someone wasn't an explanation.

Was it because the spriten princess had appointed her without consulting him? Probably. And yet, as a spriten princess, Taylynn had more authority than Reyr. Being a fake king didn't grant him status over her. So, technically, it had been within Taylynn's right. Besides, everyone in the inner circle had agreed that this was necessary.

She'd studied Reyr—who looked exactly like King Talon—over the past month. How could she not? He was imposing and impossible to ignore.

Unfortunately, she'd gleaned no reason for his dislike.

She did notice that he appeared near his breaking point. He snapped at everyone—a trait the actual king supposedly possessed. He never appeared to sleep. The few times she'd come up to the main room in the king's tower, when she also couldn't sleep, he'd been there brooding. Today, he appeared on edge. Crushed, no doubt, under the weight of the kingdom.

She tried to put herself in his shoes. To see things from his perspective. His best friend, his shield-brother, and his queen were all missing. He was worried, perhaps even frightened. And here she was, a nobody, who thought she could simply step in and take Claire's place.

Gods, no wonder he disliked her.

Except, it was no reason to be rude, hurtful even. If she was capable of seeing things from his perspective, then he ought to be capable of the same. To see things from hers. To know that she was doing this as a favor. That she was here to help, even if the payment had been a huge motivator. It wasn't like she was some selfish, money hungry person looking to take advantage of the royals.

Her head gave a painful throb. Too much thinking. Too much stress.

She nearly burst into tears when the steward brought an end to their morning court. Especially since afternoon court had been canceled, so that the king might see to other pressing matters. Gods, she hoped she wasn't needed—

The throne room's double doors crashed open. Cries of surprise spread through the courtiers.

At first, she ignored the noise, too caught up in her frustrated emotions. Then, someone screamed.

Her breath froze in her lungs. More screams followed as people stumbled, retreating from the lone figure that strode into the hall. He was cloaked, his face hidden.

Mer's heart took off at a gallop, hands tightening on the armrests of her throne.

The guards outside the doors were no longer standing. She caught sight of their prone figures, blood pooling around them. Her stomach lurched, bile rising into her throat. A frightened squeak slipped from her lips. Several courtiers tried to slip through the doors, only to be stopped by guards in foreign livery.

She made to stand, to flee through one of the side doors, but a hand closed around her forearm.

"Don't move," Reyr ordered, his voice low.

Verath and Dallin surged protectively in front of the dais, drawing their sveraks.

"No need for that," a slithering voice called from beneath the hood. A hush fell over the throne room. A few whimpers sounded.

"Kane," Reyr growled, surging to his feet.

Bony, pale hands lifted, peeling back the hood that disguised a skeletal, gaunt face. Mer couldn't stop staring at the sorcerer's blood red eyes. Kane—it was Kane! Oh, gods! They were all going to die!

Her eyes darted towards the side door again, but her body refused to move. Deep down, she knew that if she tried to flee, Kane would strike her down with magic. Besides, she couldn't abandon the courtiers, even if her magical abilities were laughable, at best.

Everyone believed she was the queen. They thought that with her, they'd be safe. That she'd use her incredible magic to defeat Kane.

Only...she couldn't.

"Good morning, Your Majesties. Or should I say, imposters!" Kane's accusation left the courtiers muttering. Reyr's hand jumped to his sverak. Kane clicked his tongue. "I wouldn't do that."

He shed his robe. At first, she merely gazed at him. Then she noticed his breastplate. Along the collarbone were indentations. Stones. There were four, with a fifth spot empty.

Kane lifted a hand. Within his palm, a golden stone glittered.

Reyr swore under his breath, his skin blanching. Because he wore Talon's face, his scars stood out like sliver lines. His eyes flashed with fear.

"If you draw a single blade against me, this stone goes into its place, and we all know what happens when it does."

More muttering from the courtiers.

Kane barked a laugh. "Ah, of course." He turned towards the crowd. "Most of you don't even know what these are. They're dragonstones, forged by my ancestors, the ancient asarlaí. Their sole purpose was to act as a failsafe, to ensure that dragon kind never got too powerful. Only, I don't think they ever planned for what happened afterward. Tsk tsk. That is neither here nor there. Bring all five stones together, and every being of draconic descent, be it dragon or drengr, turns back into the substance from whence they originated. Isn't that how the story goes?" Kane looked at Reyr for confirmation.

Reyr's breaths came faster and faster. "What do you want?"

Mer had to commend him as his voice came out steady. Hers would have broken into a high pitched squeak. In fact, she probably wouldn't have managed to form words.

"The kingdom," Kane said. "What else?"

"You think I'm going to step aside and doom my people—?!"

"Your people?!" Kane laughed. Mer's skin broke out in chills. "You aren't even their king." Courtiers glanced at each other with questions in their eyes. "Oh. But of course. They ought to know. You see, everyone," Kane said, addressing the throne room, "your lovely king and queen aren't who they claim to be—"

"Enough!" Reyr cried. His chest rose and fell in rapid pants.

"Oh. No. They ought to know. Here is how this will go. You're going to step aside while I take the throne. We'll show these lovely courtiers—soon to be my loyal subjets—exactly who you are. If you don't, well, I'll just turn you to stone and do it anyway. No?"

Reyr's throat bobbed. Her eyes darted between Reyr, the two shields at the base of the dais, and the rest of the courtiers. No one moved. Kane held the remaining stone in his hand parlously close to his chest.

Her stomach clenched painfully.

"Do it," she hissed under her breath to Reyr. "You have no other choice."

She hated the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, because it felt like giving up.

Dallin and Verath glanced at her over their shoulders. Their expressions were anguished.

Reyr's eyes darted towards her before retuning to Kane. "If I agree to step aside, what of these people? What of Dragonwall?"

Kane chuckled. "You think I'd slaughter them all? Come now," he tsked. "Who would I rule if I killed them? No. Everyone will have a chance to swear themselves to me. All who are loyal will live happily under my new rule. I'm not a barbarian," he added, scoffing.

Mer clenched her jaw hard enough her teeth nearly cracked. It took everything in her to keep her mouth shut. To keep from arguing that point.

"Come now, surrender. You've lost. Surely you can see that."

"I have your word, then?" Reyr asked. "You'll allow them to live in exchange for loyalty?"

"As I said." Kane's expression glittered with preliminary triumph. He knew he had won. They all did. What other option was there? They couldn't doom an entire race of drengr. What would happen if they turned to stone? Could it be reversed? Would they know themselves if it was?

Or...what it certain death?

Dead, the drengr would be useless.

"Very well." Reyr's words were heavy as a hammer blow. They settled into the silence. Tears sprang to her eyes. She wanted to reach out and grab his hand—she might have hated him, but right now, it was them against the evil before them. "I will surrender the throne."

"And your...shields?"

Dallin took a step forward, as if to attack. Verath's hand shot out, wrapping around the young drengr's forearm. "We surrender," Verath said. He dragged Dallin aside, leaving the way to the throne free.

"Good. Then, as a last matter of business—" Kane's hand flashed. Two guards came forward in foreign livery. It took her a moment to realize they were Osheans. She only knew because she'd seen so many dead ones after combing the battle field.

The guards walked up to the dais and presented two vials.

"Those are for you," Kane explained. "Drink them."

"That wasn't part of our agreement," Reyr bit out.

"You are not in any position to argue. I could kill you right here on the spot. Instead, I have other plans for you. So, drink up, that way your beloved kingdom knows you've been lying to them."

She and Reyr exchanged a glance.

"And if I refuse?" Reyr asked, lifting his chin.

Kane waved his hand again, flashing the stone. "Then you know what will happen. It's good insurance, is it not? Bring all five stones into contact and you cease to be a problem for me."

Reyr's jaw ticked. "Fine," he bit out. The guards climbed the dais and handed them each a small vial. She had no idea what was in it, only that whatever happened next wouldn't be pretty.

"Now, do as I say," Kane hissed.

Popping the cork, she lifted the vial to her lips and drank.

💕❤️💕Don't forget to heart this chapter!❤️💕❤️

Hello Bookdragons!

I know, I know!!! You are probably pulling your hair out, and cursing me for doing this to Dragonwall. For leaving you on this horrible cliff hanger. Gah! 

Sorry, not sorry 

Muhuhahaha. I feel a bit evil right now. But, let's face it, we kinda knew something like this was going to happen, didn't we?

Next week's chapter is from Reyr's POV...because I'm kind enough not to leave you hanging by switching to a different set of characters. So at least you will get to see what happens next. Though I can't promise it will be pretty.

And on that note. See you next week!

--Mel