Chapter 2

I slapped a hand over my mouth and ran to the servants' quarters.

I barely reached the wooden bucket before everything came up.

Pip: Oof. The morning sickness is really not playing today.

Spark: Dragon young burn through magic like firewood. She needs mana stones, not stale bread. She's running on empty.

I wiped my mouth and slumped against the cold wall, shivering. They were right, and that was the problem. The child was already drinking down my strength faster than I could feed it. And soon — days, maybe less — its father's aura would start leaking out of my skin, for anyone with magic to smell.

Every dragon in the court would know. Kaelen would know.

"Well, well. Look at this pathetic creature."

I turned around.

Lady Vexia stood in the doorway. A high-elf noble — tall, elegant, dripping in jewels she'd never worked a day to earn. Everyone in the court said she would be Kaelen's Queen. She said it louder than anyone.

"You missed a spot in the grand hallway, rat." She stepped into my tiny room and kicked the bucket across the floor, contents and all. "Clean it. Now. On your knees, where you belong."

"Yes, My Lady," I whispered, keeping my head down.

I carried my bucket back to the grand hallway. It was full of nobles today, elves in silk drifting between the pillars. Vexia followed close behind me. She didn't care about the spot on the floor. She wanted an audience.

I knelt and started to scrub. Halfway through, another wave of sickness rolled over me, and I swayed, one hand flat on the marble to keep from going down.

"Lazy trash." Vexia raised her foot. The sharp heel of her boot came down toward the back of my hand.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

The pain never came.

A massive, black-scaled hand had caught her ankle in the air.

"What do you think you are doing?"

The temperature in the hallway dropped to freezing. Frost crawled up the nearest pillar. Kaelen stood over us, and his eyes were glowing a bright, dangerous red.

"Your Majesty!" Vexia gasped, fighting to keep her balance. "I was only disciplining a lazy servant. She is just a half-sprite—"

"She is my servant." He shoved her leg away. She stumbled and fell hard onto the marble, jewels scattering across the stone.

The whole hallway went silent. A princess, on the floor. Not a single noble dared to breathe.

Lumi: He put a princess on her backside for you. In dragon culture that's basically a marriage proposal.

Spark: For the record — "my servant" is dragon for "my wife." Someone write that down.

Kaelen didn't even glance at Vexia. He lowered himself onto one knee — the King of Dragons, kneeling in front of a floor-scrubber, in front of his entire court.

He took my trembling hand. His thumb ran over the raw, red knuckles.

"Did she hurt you?" His voice had gone quiet. Nothing like the roar he used on everyone else.

"I—I'm fine, My Lord." I pulled my hand from his and pressed it to my chest.

This was worse than a beating. Every noble in the hall was staring at me now, wondering what a wingless half-sprite could possibly be to their King. The more he shielded me, the harder they would look. And the harder they looked, the sooner one of them would smell what I was hiding.

Vexia climbed to her feet, her face burning red. "Kaelen! You would humiliate me for this — this dirt?"

He didn't draw his sword. He didn't have to. Killing intent flooded the hall like cold water.

"Say she is dirt one more time," Kaelen said softly, "and I will cut out your tongue."