Soren
“You said what?”
I barely register Rally’s question. It is a glorious afternoon to walk the palace ramparts, to take in the grand city beyond, which holds my subjects secure, and the palace within, which holds my princess so tightly. My mouth twitches.
Yes, it is a glorious day indeed.
We pass a guard, who drops into a low bow, and once we’re out of earshot, Rally says something I don’t catch.
“Hm?” I say. “What was that?”
His nostrils flare from the force of the breath he draws. He seems exasperated for some reason. “I asked what you said to the princess before walking out and leaving her locked in her room.”
“Oh.” I gaze out at a distant cloud. What a beautiful sight a cloud is. “I said that guarding her like a jewel is exactly what I intend to do.”
My mood was foul after Abely robbed me of a leisurely breakfast in bed with the princess, but the subsequent visit to her chambers satisfied me beyond my expectations. Until then, her presence here seemed temporary, like water that might slip from between my fingers. But seeing her so frustrated, so defiant and yet unable to leave, reassured me that no one can remove her from my grasp.
Not even herself.
My chest rumbles with pleasure.
“Soren.”
Reluctantly, I bring my attention back to Rally. “What?”
“You cannot say such things to a woman.”
“What things?”
“For stars’ sake,” he grumbles. “Did you listen to nothing Marta said?”
“I listened to everything your wife said,” I answer, affronted at the suggestion. “She was most helpful.” As a human female, Marta had given me invaluable advice before bringing the princess here. “She said that above all else, a woman wants to know she is safe. She was wagging a wooden spoon at me as she said it, remember?”
Rally chuckles before sobering once more. “I do.”
“How much safer can the princess be than she is now?”
Princess Serah mentioned the archers herself, and she must have seen the guards in the corridor. Little does she know, even the servants’ entrances are guarded.
The corner of my mouth creeps up. This is a far more promising start than the one Abely brought me.
“Soren,” Rally says, his tone veering toward impatience, “that is not what Marta meant. Keeping the princess locked in her room will not make her feel safe. It will make her feel that she has no freedom.”
I don’t answer.
“Soren.”
“What?”
“You don’t honestly intend to keep her in her room all the time, do you?”
“Of course not.” We pass another guard, who bows as deeply as the first. “She may leave,” I say, once we pass him, “when she is with me.”
Rally lays a hand on my shoulder. Normally, he would never touch me in view of others, so when he does, I stop and narrow my eyes at him. They shrink down even further as he searches my face like a physician seeking some hidden illness.
“You’re prowling your territory,” he says finally.
I sneer. “I am surveying the palace walls.”
“I bet in about an hour, you’ll have the urge to curl up in that absurd pile of pillows you keep on your bed.”
My lip rises. “Perhaps I’d like a nap.”
“And likely a few jewels to examine afterward.”
I show him my teeth. “You go too far—”
“Soren, there are flames in your eyes.”
My mouth clamps shut on the reprimand. With a casual turn of my heel, I put the palace at my back and face the city. “Tell me when they’re gone.”
Rally moves to stand a half pace ahead of me. I breathe, and he watches for the flames to fade.
“Gone,” he says on my third exhalation.
My eyes remain on the city, on its neat shops and sturdy homes. “I gave you a difficult task, watching over your king.”
“Yes,” my friend says.
“If you ever wish to be relieved of it, all you need do is ask.”
He snorts. “And be forced to lick your boots like everyone else? I think not.”
Now that I’ve regained control, I easily repress the smirk his response provokes. Rally alone is allowed to speak to me as he pleases, because Rally alone is tasked with ensuring my first form doesn’t emerge unless called upon. It’s imperative my subjects know I hold absolute control over both forms—the man and the beast. Slip-ups cannot be tolerated.
“We knew this could happen when the princess arrived,” Rally says as if reading my mind. He squints up at the sky. “A dragon with a mate—”
“Is a dangerous dragon,” I finish. Every fledgling learns the line by rote. It reminds us all to give fresh couples space. If the princess and I were following dragon tradition, we would retreat to the desert for the courtship period, returning only once the more primitive urges, like hoarding, abated.
But a king cannot retreat.
“Thank you, Rally,” I say as the dragon within recedes.
“Of course, Your Majesty.” He pauses. “Are you going to let her out now?”
I work myself through another round of breathing before answering. “I will consider it.”
We turn at the sound of anxious footsteps pelting the stone walkway. A youth, red-faced and panting, is sprinting toward us.
“That doesn’t look promising,” Rally says.
“Mm.”
The boy arrives in a state of near collapse. He manages to bow, but when he rises to deliver the message he’s been sent with, all color leaves his face. Rally and I exchange a knowing look.
“Easy, lad,” Rally says, his mouth quivering as he steadies the boy.
“Speak,” I say. “I will not be angry.”
Not at him, anyway. His attire marks him as a simple errand boy; whatever message he brings won’t be urgent, but the sender anticipated my frustration at the very least. Hence, the boy to bear the brunt, poor lad.
“Your Majesty,” the boy says, flopping into a second bow. It’s like he lost all his bones on the way. “I was sent…the princess…”
I stiffen. “What of the princess?”
Rally claps the boy on the back as he does some more sputtering. “Out with it.”
“She’s sending for pianos,” the boy says, “and, well, peacocks—”
“Peacocks?” I repeat.
He bobs his head. “Yes. Oiken sent me.”
My brows lower. “Oiken understands the princess is to be brought whatever she desires, yes?” My majordomo is not usually prone to error.
Somehow, the boy pales further. “Yes, yes of course, Your Majesty.” He glances back and forth, wringing his hands, wetting his lips. “It’s just that Oiken says the room can’t fit the camel Princess Serah requested, so he isn’t sure what to…” His voice dwindles away.
I allow myself a single exhalation before striding for the nearest stairwell with Rally tight on my heels.