Dragonborn (The Jade Lee Romantic Fantasies, Book 1) (21 page)

BOOK: Dragonborn (The Jade Lee Romantic Fantasies, Book 1)
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Kiril slowly straightened, pushing the swords away. Dag Racho allowed it because he had a harsher fate in store. Kiril could see it in the malicious gleam of his eyes as the Emperor continued to speak—casually—making sure Natiya understood exactly what had happened.

"Isn't it ironic that he orchestrated everything—your arrest, your escape, even that cozy little inn last night—all so he could gain your trust. And why? So you could lead him here, of course, so he could find the egg. And all the while, it was right here." He stroked her egg, pulling her tightly against him. "Tsk, tsk, dragon-hunter. Such effort and yet so blind."

Kiril watched, his heart sinking into his stomach as comprehension slipped across Natiya's features. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and she shook her head in denial. "It can't be true. All the things we said. All the things we shared..."

He met her anguished gaze, and his hands tightened to fists. It had all been true—or almost all of it. The tales he told her, the confidences he whispered: they had been real. His feelings were real! But if he said that aloud, his life would be forfeit. Dag Racho killed anyone who was not completely loyal to him. If Kiril showed the least bit of allegiance to Dag Racho's new "queen," he would be dead in a heartbeat. The best he could do was raise his hands and shrug. "I serve my Emperor," he said.

"It was all a trick?" she gasped. "You never cared for me... at all?"

"Do not feel bad, my dear," the Emperor interrupted before Kiril could speak. "He is legendary at court for the women he has seduced. Were you truly under the delusion that he loved you?" He gave a dramatic gasp. "He did say he loved you, didn't he? Or were you not even worthy of that petty lie?"

Kiril jerked forward, despite the cut of at least three blades. At that moment he intended to rip the man's arrogant smirk right off his face, no matter the cost. But the soldiers were efficient. A single punch to his kidney and he dropped to the ground. Then once again, the thrice-cursed Emperor spoke.

"Tell her, my dragon-hunter. Tell her the truth. You owe her that, at least. Tell her that she meant nothing more to you than her knowledge of the Queen's clutching cave."

Kiril swallowed his own bile. He knew Dag Racho's game, even if she did not. He had to echo exactly what the Emperor said or he would die. The bastard wouldn't even have to give the order. His men were trained to react instantaneously if Kiril said anything but what he had been told to say.

He nodded.

"Say it aloud, dragon-hunter," Dag Racho said, his voice low with deadly threat. "And say it to her face."

Kiril lifted his head. He had no choice with a blade beneath his chin. He almost took the coward's way out, almost dove forward onto the sword rather than speak the lie. But suicide would not help Natiya. With his death, she would be completely alone. So he said the words. He looked into her eyes and uttered all he had been ordered to say. "It was a ruse, Natiya. It was all a lie."

He watched in despair as the light faded from her eyes. A dark fury slipped into her expression, and he nearly cried out at the sight.

"Well, my Queen," Dag Racho purred. "What shall we do with him? Do we reward him for his perfidy? For betraying one so innocent as you? Or—"

"No." She did not let him finish his question. Kiril looked up enough to see her face shift from angry to implacable as the beast inside her took over. Kiril watched it happen and felt the tiny spark of hope die within him. But still it hurt to hear her say it. Worse yet, it ached to know he deserved it.

"Kill him," she ordered; then she turned away.

Dag Racho laughed in appreciation, sparing one last moment to glance at the soldiers of his personal guard. "You heard my Queen," he said. Then he grinned. "You need not even make it fast." And with that, his Copper burst into the air, flying over the water with firm, elegant strokes. As if in a last good-bye, the beast released a plume of fire, either out of respect or merely showing off for the Queen, Kiril didn't know, nor did he care. He had his own problems now:

A dozen seasoned soldiers with orders to kill, and him stark naked in the middle of it all.

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

Some cages were better than others, Natiya thought as she sank into the steamy heat of a perfumed bath. From the moment she'd opened her eyes to see Dag Racho and his Copper breathing down on her, she'd expected a quick and fiery end. Instead, the Emperor had flown her to his palace, fed her a feast and set her up in lavish quarters the likes of which she never dreamed existed. He'd also posted guards for her "protection," warning her that men in the court would want her dead.

She didn't believe him, of course. So the moment the Emperor had left to attend matters of state, she had set about trying to subvert her keepers. They wouldn't leave her rooms when she wanted to rest. They allowed her to change her clothing behind a privacy screen, but they wouldn't leave her bedroom. They did, however, agree to let her have a hot bath in seclusion.

She'd quickly entered the huge tiled room, stripping off the cloak as she went. Then she'd turned to stare at the waterfall, greenery and lush towels heated over a vent in the floor. Natiya hadn't even known that such things were possible. A quick glance had told her there was no escape from the bath except back to her bedroom, and so she'd succumbed to temptation and sunk down into hot, wet heaven. She even had food available: a tray of fruit within easy reach from the edge of the pool. She was starving, of course, and soon she was swallowing tiny madda grapes with her eyes closed, while thoughts of cages and guards faded away.

An image of Kiril surfaced quickly in her thoughts, but she resolutely pushed it aside. She would not think of him naked and surrounded by swords. She would not dwell on the fact that she'd known not to trust a governor and a dragon-hunter. And yet, when he'd looked at her so sadly in prison, when he'd folded her in his arms and then found a way to escape... But that had all been a lie. He was the one who had put her in prison in the first place. And it didn't matter now because he was dead, dead, dead!

She cut off a sob and submerged herself totally. The heat enveloped her and the water cleansed her thoughts, or so she pretended. Then, when she surfaced, she resolutely pushed away all thoughts of Kiril, his betrayal, and—d'greth!—what they had done together. She would not think at all. For the moment, she would lie in her bath, eat sweet grapes, and...

Think about the sharp prick of a knife at her throat. Natiya froze. The blade tickled cold against her throat. She didn't open her eyes, but she could feel the icy press of steel, especially as it differed so radically from the steamy heat of her perfumed bath.

If she could have, she would have sighed. Even though she sat frozen in a jewel-encrusted tub, part of her still registered shock that Dag Racho had been right. He had warned her that many at court would want her dead. But she had sent her protectors away, and now the blade began to press harder against her neck.

"Do I have your attention?" a female voice hissed against her ear.

"Yes," Natiya answered equally softly, opening her eyes, turning ever so slightly to see a dark-haired woman crouching beside her. Natiya frowned, wondering if she knew the woman. She certainly seemed familiar enough. Then the dragon egg flashed her a memory of Kiril and this woman sitting at the table that first night Natiya had danced for him. What was her name?

Sabina.

Natiya would have nodded, but with the blade against her throat, all she could do was stare at the dark-haired woman and wait. Fortunately, the longer this went on, the more chance that a servant or the guards would discover what was happening.

"Where is Kiril?" Sabina's voice was a low hiss of deadly intent, but her gaze hopped around, betraying her nervousness. She was not a woman used to violence.

Natiya waited.
Now.
Sabina had looked to the door—only for a moment—but that was all Natiya needed. She had discovered in the last few hours that her reflexes were even faster now; whether because of the egg's maturity or because she wasn't dancing three shows a night, Natiya didn't know. Neither did she care. What mattered was that it gave her the speed required to grab Sabina's wrist, enough to wrench it and the dagger away from her throat.

Less than a beat later, Sabina was flat on her back, a dripping Natiya pinning her to the cold, wet tile. Only then did she bother answering Sabina's question.

"Kiril is dead. I gave the order myself."

She watched Sabina's eyes go dead, and she knew the woman had been expecting this answer. Knew it, but had apparently hoped for something different. Yet even as she lay there, her eyes draining of life, her spirit would not give in.

"How could you do that?" the woman whispered. "He was our only hope."

"I make my own hope. And he was a liar." He had lied to get between her legs, and she had allowed it. She had believed he was different, and she, who had kept herself closed and contained for so long, had opened up to him.

Which made her a fool. That more than anything else fueled her hatred. And while Natiya was filled with self-loathing, Sabina found the strength to fight back. Twisting hard on the tile, Sabina shoved her captor backward. Natiya could have countered the move, but she had no heart to hurt another woman duped by a skillful liar. So she sat back, sinking onto her heels as she watched her adversary.

Sabina scrambled for her dagger, words boiling out of her. "Of course he lied to you. It's the only way to survive in Ragona. You were using each other. You never would have gotten to the clutching caves without him."

Natiya didn't answer except to flinch at the woman's words.

"But I know him. He cared for you. He probably even warned you."

"He had me arrested!" Natiya shot back, rather than admit that Sabina was right. Kiril had warned her. And if she doubted her memory, the egg was right there with another flash of recall, this time of Kiril in her bedroom, his hair slightly askew, a rogue's smile on his face.

Neither I nor Dag Racho can afford to leave you be.

She was not stupid. She'd known then that he had been warning her, telling her that both men would do anything to get to her secrets. Already weary of her own thoughts, she sighed. "He is dead," she said. "There is nothing either of us can do to change that now." Then Natiya stood, pulling a silk robe about her.

"How?" Sabina pressed. "How did he die?"

"A dozen of the personal guard with orders to kill," Natiya responded flatly, unwilling to admit that she too wondered if he could have escaped. "He was unarmed." And naked after their lovemaking.

"I will kill you for this." Sabina's voice had settled into an equally flat statement of fact.

"Why?" Natiya asked, genuine interest prompting her question. What were these two to each other? "You were not lovers, so I have killed no one important to you. He said he does not even support you with money since you have your own. What does he mean to you?"

Sabina stared at her, those dark eyes widening in horror and disgust. "You are a beast," she breathed softly. "The dragon has already taken you. Or perhaps there was nothing there to begin with."

Natiya reared back in shock, stung by the words without knowing why. "No—," she began, but Sabina gave her no time.

"He could have saved us all," she breathed, her body shifting as she adjusted the dagger in her palm. "Until you." And with that, she lunged.

Natiya had expected it. Indeed, she was already tensed, preparing for the attack, but she never got the chance. Two guards leapt between them, catching Sabina in mid-swing, restraining her with brutal force. Natiya frowned, annoyed with herself for not sensing their presence, for being too preoccupied with thoughts of Kiril to hear their approach.

Meanwhile, Sabina screamed and fought, her furious cries echoing off the tiles. It did no good. She was no match for the men, who quickly dragged her away. She was gone before Natiya could figure out what to say. What to think.

"She doesn't know, does she?"

For the third time that day, Natiya flinched at the surprise presence of another soul. She didn't need to turn, though, for she recognized Dag Racho's voice. And more than that, she felt his presence—a nervous crawl on her skin.

She shuddered, pulling the robe about herself to cover the gooseflesh. "How...?" Her voice trailed away, unsure how to phrase her question.

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