Dragonbound: Birthrights (Book 2)
Crowning

Everyone was gathered in the throne room awaiting their princess. Ritiann stood on the carpeted dais where the throne sat. Her hair was pulled up and fanned out with gold pins and red ribbons. The dress she wore was as red as the carpet that snaked its way up the steps to her. She was exquisite, the perfect figure of a beautiful queen.

Grindall, Danalla, and Molliegh of the surrounding countries stood before the queen, their backs to the doors. Many others who lead the cities of Avestitia also were present to see their new princess.

People crowded the massive room and flooded either side of the hallway out the door. It was noisy, everyone speaking in hushed tones as the time grew closer for their future queen to come down the hallway. This day had been anticipated for years, and now, she would take responcibility as Princess. And after that, when she is ready, Ritiann will hand down her crown. They were grateful, seeing Kiaran as more than worthy--possibly even stronger than her father was.

Rathen stood at Ritiann’s side, his chest broad as he sat with a noble look about him. The light danced across his blue scales, his wings sitting perfectly still. Music played from the back of the room at a soft volume as everyone became silent and turned to the massive, open door at the back of the room. Finally, Kiaran emerged from the darkness of the hall.

The light that flowed in from the windows glinted off the black metal diamonds that clung to her leather boots. Her skin gleamed from beneath the snow leopard pelts that draped over her shoulders and hips. Her red dress was tight against her body, the skirt slit up both sides, showing the tattoos across one of her thighs. Black metal clung to her shirt, pointed like scales and shining like the deepest black oil. Across her chest were loose, red fabrics intertwined with thin, gold and black chains.

The sword that killed Murdock clung to her hip. The gold of the hilt shined, the decorative shape of the blade hard to see past the decorated sheath. She lifted her chin slightly, her highness gleaming. The scars across one eye with her tattoos and her attitude radiated through the room. Nothing but power flowed from her, seeming to make many somewhat uncomfortable.

Torin inhaled deeply as he took in everything about her. Her looks, her walk...everything. His brows lowered slightly. He breathed in deeply, his heart aching a little; he missed Kiaran. More than he should.

She made her way up the stairs to her mother. Her chest burned as her heart raced. It was discomforting to have so many eyes on her. Again, she could feel the ghost stares of the crowds watching as she fought in the arenas. No matter how long it had been since she had worked for Nathanial, she could not escape the emotions and guilt of it. She knelt before Ritiann on one knee.

Ritiann dipped her palm into the basin of blessed water, petals and herbs floating within it. Resting a hand over the top of her daughter’s head, her thumb on her forehead, Ritiann said, “Stand, my daughter, my successor of this land.”

Turning around, she faced the audience, feeling the water drip down her nose a bit. Her eyes met with Torin’s briefly. She felt Cyrin’s attention on her from behind as he stood beside Ritiann. Everyone in the room, except for her mother, bowed to her. It was empowering.

Then, she turned to her mother who raised a hand into the air. She placed her other hand firmly on Kiaran’s shoulder as she spoke.

“As is tradition, I sent my daughter to a separate world to grow in experience. Experience in knowing how the world works and what needs to be addressed as a queen. And finally, she has returned to us and is ready to take on her rightful responsibilities.”

Everyone cheered for her and her mother smiled widely. Nurra stood at her feet proudly as he watched over the people. Elsibellem had sewed him a special, little cape of red and gold, wrapping around his chest like a snazzy harness.

“My daughter, Kiaran Krutia, will rule this land and without corruption. I know you can see it as well as I,” Ritiann said. “She is powerful enough to have brought down criminals in this past year. She has set an example of power and dignity.” The crowd cheered and Ritiann’s eyes slowly moved to her daughter. “She’s been successful in many things in the short amount of time that she’s been here.”

Kiaran raised her hand with her mother as she said, “I will never be swayed into giving up on my people. My lands are not my own, but the people’s who live here. Survival is not the way we live, but to thrive is our purpose. Avestitia is a home to people and a home to dragons. This, I promise to you, I will never lose my purpose as queen.”

As she finished, her heart swelled and the Avestitians began singing a song as music played in the background. She memorized that vow for weeks and never thought she would remember the words on the one day she needed them...But she did.

Now, the celebration was erupting into action.

In the streets and throughout the courtyard were singing people. Dragons shot bits of fire into the air, the embers falling gently around dancing women with beautiful smiles and flowing hair. Children raced about with sticks that had paper ribbons attached to them. The tips of the ribbons were burning, sparking and smoking a rainbow of colors.

Brick moved through the crowd, carrying a red lantern he had bought at a stand. Walter stood beside him as they walked through the festival. It was charming, bright, cheerful. Torin weaved through the busy people and greeted Brick happily.

In the center of the courtyard was where Kiaran and the other leaders stood. They congratulated her and spoke to her and tried to appeal to her better nature. She had a more powerful country than anyone and she had much better resources. The most intelligent thing one could do was to be on her good side.

She became bored as they constantly complimented her. A woman, possibly younger than Kiaran, made her way to the new queen. She wore a beautiful, deep green dress with the pendent of Kamoni on her necklace. It was strange. Not so long ago the king of her homeland wanted to kill her. The princess bowed slightly and Kiaran said, “Princess Molleigh Rolland of Kamoni, I presume?”

“I am,” she stood back up. “I wanted to apologize on behalf of my father. He was...well, ignorant, I suppose. The country...is out of control with lack of morals and he was unsure of how to handle it. I am not trying to get respect from you, but to let you know that things are beginning to change for Kamoni.”

“I am happy to hear it,” she nodded.

As she left, another woman walked to her. She had long, sleek, blonde hair that hung down her back. Her dress was a dark, beautiful blue and she wore a necklace of bone beads and gold. Her eyes were piercing, such a bright blue. A smile spread across her painted lips as she lowered her head for a respectful second.

“Your highness,” she greeted. “I am Ninna of Trindal-VinCar.” Her voice, even, had an air of distrust. It took quite a bit for Kiaran to fight off a grimace.

Trindal-VinCar was not a part of any of her alliances. It was rather strange that she was even there, although Cyrin assumed she might make an appearance. “Hello,” she replied. “I was under the impression that Sterjia was Trindal-VinCar’s queen?”

“Oh, she is,” she smiled. “I am sent on her behalf.”

“I see,” she said lowly.

“She was just hoping that one day the two of you could speak about an alliance. We understand that you are a powerful and respectable woman and your aid could be useful.”

“Why? Are you planning a war sometime soon?” she jested with a flat, unreadable tone.

“Of course not, but one could not be too careful, no?” Ninna replied smoothly.

“I suppose I could look into it,” she replied. She was uninterested, but did not want to cause any hostility.

“Thank you, my Lady,” she bowed and walked away.

The roar of a dragon caught everyone’s attention as it blew fire into the streets. The children screamed in excitement as the adults laughed. The dragon took the stage away from the dancers and began celebrating on its own. Kiaran smiled as she watched it flick its red wings and shoot balls of fire into the night sky. It was magnificent.

Ritiann gently touched a hand to Kiaran’s shoulder. As she turned her attention to her, her mother pointed aside where Torin walked toward them. Ritiann smiled, her eyes locked onto Kiaran.

“What is that smile for?” she asked lowly.

“He is a good friend, no?” she pressed. Kiaran returned the smile as she walked away, meeting with him.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“I suppose,” she shrugged. “Come with me, I’d like to talk,” she gestured as she led him away from the noise of the party.

He followed her closely...close enough that she could feel the warmth radiate from his body onto her back. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he smiled. It was nice to see it.

Finally, she brought him up a flight of stairs to a large, stone balcony that oversaw the entire festival. The wind was cool and carried the scents of ash and flowers to them. “Is it safe to assume that you are doing well?” Kiaran asked.

“Well enough, anyhow,” he replied.

She touched a hand to the stone railing of the balcony, keeping her eyes forward. “Are Raven and Kane keeping you as busy as Cyrin is me?” she asked.

“I suppose so,” he chuckled slightly.

“How is your brother?”

He paused, the question seeming to irk him. “Well...” he began lowly, “busy. I don’t believe he ever has a second to himself, otherwise, I think I’d hear from him more often.”

“I can understand,” she sighed. “I am often quite busy, myself.” It grew quiet a moment and she added, “I couldn’t get away enough...But now...It is unavoidable. I now have to be conditioned for the throne.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

It grew silent between them, an awkward silence. They stood side by side in such a beautiful city with perfect weather and a happy atmosphere. Her mind wondered back to the time they had spent together. They were close, yet she hadn’t heard of his marriage until right then. Her eyes gradually shifted over to Torin’s hands as he absently played with his fingers.

Sadly, she had planned to ask him to come stay in Avestitia. It seemed that she could use him here...But now that he was married, that wasn't really an option anymore.

“So,” she began, Torin facing her, “do you enjoy being married?” she asked. He stared at her quizzically.

“Actually,” he smiled slightly, but more from discomfort than anything, “it is work. But I enjoy it...Being a queen's daughter, are you being pursued by anyone? Have you been requested to marry anyone yet?”

“No one is pushing it on me,” she replied. “They are giving me space and time to become comfortable with everything before plunging me into a marriage.”

“I see,” he nodded.

“...Is, uh...Davin married yet?” She nearly stammered over the question and she mentally beat herself. How embarrassing.

His blood ran cold. “Why?”

“Well you apparently are married,” she said, surprised by the pain in her chest. “So I wondered if he was as well.”

“No, he isn’t.” He inhaled deeply, looking back to the courtyard. “He told me once that he’d prefer the next rule to be chosen, not by blood but by the people.” Again, there was a pause. “Have you considered it, then? It seems you can't avoid it forever, anymore.”

Nurra found his way up the stairs to them and perched on the railing at Kiaran’s hands. She watched her silver dragon as it flexed its wing, its cape a little dirty now. “Not really, no,” she answered softly. “Perhaps I am simply meant to be who I am.”

“What do you mean by that, exactly?”

“Being married adds another onto you. I cannot be me and my husband. I can only be who I am. I’ll never change.”

He smiled weakly and she eyed him. “I would never expect you to change. Husband or not.”

Over the year of being in new positions and new lives, neither of them were able to speak to each other. There were many things to talk about, but neither of them spoke a word. She leaned against the stone railing, her eyes on the courtyard of people.

It was brilliant and horrible to see the people that relied so heavily on her. They were in her hands, with every decision she ever made. Trying to escape her thoughts, she changed the subject to ease the discomfort. “Torin, we were once very close, I think.”

“I’d like to think we still are,” he said lowly.

“Good,” she smiled as she faced him. “Shall we keep it that way?”

His lips were curved into a soft smile as he stood still. He subtly nodded. “I miss you, Kiaran,” his voice was low and her heart quivered. She could feel her insides sinking slowly as she allowed herself into his words. “I wish...things could be different.”

She turned her head, dropping her hands from the cold, white rock of the railing. The words he spoke, the things on his heart--she did not want to know them. It only made things worse. She wanted to say something, to divert the conversation that headed down the wrong road way too quickly....But nothing came.

“I apologize,” he cut in. “I did not mean to make things...uncomfortable.”

“No,” she said. Everything about him was so comforting. Sighing, she admitted to herself, even, “I missed you too, Torin.”

He smiled at her, watching her hair fall into her face. The scars on her eye hid beneath her hair as she turned back to the courtyard. She leaned against the railing and watched the sky. Stepping to her side, he rested a hand atop hers. His hand was hot against her skin, but she enjoyed it. He leaned over the railing with her, watching the clouds roll by.

“When I saw you back in Kamoni...” he began lowly, “I knew there was something about you. May it be the strength I knew you possessed or the softness of your eyes when you thought no one was looking...” he trailed off and Kiaran felt edgy. “Well, you always had a small part of my heart from the very second I met you.”

Her muscles flexed and her fingers tightened beneath his hand on the stone. What did he mean? Did he always love her or was she too new and interesting to him? Slowly, she turned her eyes to him. “Why are you saying this?”

“What do you mean?”

She wanted to step back, to step away and pull her hand to herself...She wanted to be left alone and to never feel his warmth again. But she allowed him to stand beside her in solitude. She allowed him to touch her, to speak to her. Sighing, she closed her eyes. “You are married.”

His hand flinched and he pulled it away. “Sorry, Kiaran,” he said lowly. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it...”

Up until that moment, she never realized how badly she missed him. And Davin, too. She didn’t want him to leave after this visit. She wished Davin would have come, but she understood he was busy.

His hand touched her hair and they stood still and quiet. Gently, he pulled away from her, holding her arms in each hand. “I am sorry,” he finally got out. “I miss you and I miss my brother, but we are all separated. And to see you after a year--well, it is overwhelming.”

Taking in a quick breath, she realized how weak she seemed. Blinking once, she stood tall again, and looked away. Though she didn’t cry, he could see how sad and hurt she felt for that short second. “I don’t like living here...It’s lonely,” she admitted His brows lowered and she sighed, adding, “I love this country more each day, but something is missing.”

Her eyes moved to him and he seemed to dive into her gaze.

“I feel like a part of me is someplace else,” she added, “I think...I need one of my friends. I am alone here.”

“I understand,” Torin breathed, feeling quite similar. Looking back on it, when he wasn’t busy hunting or helping Lianna, he was sitting alone, thinking on his past adventure. His old friends.

“Well,” she lowered her head, “I hope we can keep you comfortable as you stay.” With that, she turned to leave.

“Kiaran,” he sighed shortly. She shot a look over her shoulder at him, her eyes like steel. They remained quiet for a moment, their eyes locked.

Neither of them were able to say anything else. All Torin could see as he looked at her was the woman she once was in the Zeil. She seemed peaceful, happy...But as his eyes locked with hers, she looked just as cold as he’d always known her to be.

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