Soulfire: Call of the Dragon Book 1

Chapter One

The Lady’s Maid

Hold your weapon with confidence.

Each thrust must be sharp and sure.

Do not hesitate. 

I frown as I focus, resting the metal tip ever so lightly on stretched satin. It’s waiting to be pierced. To be decorated with fast, controlled movements. Precision matters. Technique is everything. 

I feel the moment the tip punctures the cloth even as I prepare to execute the next targeted movements. They’re familiar. Ones I’ve performed countless times. Ones I’m now famous for. The Queen has ensured my skill is renowned throughout the kingdom. 

The throne room fades to nothing around me as the needle passes through the cloth. I bring it back through, pretending the whipped backstitch is actually the twists and parries of a dagger. The stems of the roses I’m embroidering are going to be so damned perfect— 

The doors to the throne fly open, breaking my concentration with a start.

 “Mother!” the intruder shouts.

 A sharp prick of pain lances my finger as the one word punctures the air. If it were anyone else, I’d be able to ignore it. 

If it were anyone else, a drop of blood wouldn’t be staining the pure white roses a deep, crimson red.

Prince Zaries storms up to the queen’s throne without a thought to the gathered diplomats and officials in the conclave. “I must speak with you!”

I look up, slowly, demurely, with a practiced show of deference I’ve perfected over the years. Seeing him for the first time in weeks is enough to halt my heart and still my breathing... His shaggy, slightly curly, black hair is mussed, his brown eyes dark as if he hasn’t slept. He looks stronger than the last time I saw him, more focused. More severe. His thick brows are drawn together in rage, his chiseled jaw working as he clenches his teeth. His lips, his mother's well-formed beautiful lips, are pursed into a frown he seems to never let go. He’s as beautiful as he is deadly, my Prince Zaries.

No, not mine. Never mine…

Wearing form-fitting black fighting leathers with twin swords at his sides, he looks like a warrior. A formidable foe on the battlefield. A hero. A prince like none other. The only thing hinting at any softness in his entire visage is the golden rose stitched into the breast of his leather armor. A rose I stitched in that armor, though if he ever knew he’d burn it.

The usual flutter in my chest is there, coming to life like a hundred delicate wings. As soon as they form, they turn to glass. Shatter. And shred me from the inside out as his fierce eyes glance at me with all the heat of a burning forge. His hatred for me is as clear as his determination to confront the queen. As palpable as a venomous snake.

Silently, I slip my finger into my mouth and suck the drop of blood away, wishing there were shadows I could hide in. I lower my eyes and frown at the fragile roses on my queen’s new dress as they soak up my blood. It’s ruined, completely. There’s no saving it. 

Suppressing a sigh, I hope it’s not symbolic of what’s to come. I set aside the garment, telling myself that at least I now have a legitimate reason to leave. The future I’m about to put into motion won’t start with a lie.

Queen Serena glances at me from the corner of her eye, those clear blue orbs sharp as steel as they take in the ruined garment and my emotional shift. She taps the arm of her throne, summoning me to her side. Obediently, I rise from my place on the steps and curtsey before taking my place behind her, as any well-behaved lady-in-waiting would.

She reaches back, holding her hand out. I place my own in hers softly, and she flips it, taking in the wound on my finger before turning her sharp eyes on her son. “Zaries, my child, you have caused Anara to hurt herself with your rash behavior.”

His jaw works as he looks nowhere but his mother, as if I don’t exist.

Which is how he’d like it to be.

“I have no time to worry about your lady's maid, I must—”

“What you must do is apologize. To Anara, to the court, to the memory of your father…” Serena’s voice trails off as she releases my hand. 

I lower my head as the fury inside Zaries heats the room as if someone’s just taken the billows to the forge and it’s about to explode. He’s so like his father, Zaries the First. Driven. Determined. Uncompromising in his loyalty to Stormcoast. 

“I will not stoop so low as to apologize to a mere servant, Mother.” 

The venom in Zaries’ voice stings, even though it shouldn’t. I am a servant—a nobody. If circumstances were different, he never would’ve known I existed. 

But he does.

Which is why his eyes snap to mine. He’s close enough now that I can see my reflection in that dark gaze. I see my own silver eyes, filled with emotion, staring right back at me. 

“As for the court?” He turns on a heel and bows low. “I sincerely apologize for the disruption. Now leave!”

“Zaries Carpathian!” Serena shouts, rising to her feet with her fists clenched at her sides.

For a woman, she’s tall, taller than most men, with a lithe and slim frame that deceives all who know her into thinking she’s weak. Her pale blonde hair is piled upon her head in a series of intricate braids and twists—artistry of my own—which support her silver and opal crown perfectly. Her dress, a pale blue with a sheer lace overlay, shifts in the breeze from the open cathedral windows behind her throne. The crest of the Carpathian family blazes through the stained glass effigy, a gold alicorn rearing, its wings outstretched, a powerful sword and crown behind it. Serena looks menacing under the blazing light, like a powerful sorceress about to strike down anyone who dare cross her.

Zaries opens his mouth to protest, but a creaking sound from a chair in the receding crowd draws his attention.

A dark and ominous voice slips through the air. “My queen.”