Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Eyes closed, Amasir lifted her face to the sky, feeling the sun resting on her face. It had been a long time since she had enough time to revel in the sun like this. If she wasn't fighting, she would be resting briefly, killing men, or reading books to learn the process of claiming a dragon.

Dragon.

Amasir's heart prickled. She knew that she would have to claim her mother's dragon once she arrived at Suvark.

She had a black scarf around her neck and face. The best way to avoid the royal soldiers was to make sure that no one who saw her while traveling would realize she was the Princess because words spread fast. She wore plain clothing that made her look like a commoner. She had no idea what people would think if they saw her, but they wouldn't mistake her for a Princess.

The royal army could be anywhere. They could be disguised as villagers or even as one of the army. Mikhaz wasn't willing to risk overlooking the possibility that one of Ravar's army could be there with them.

Amasir sighed, arranging the scarf around her neck as the wind blew high.

"You look better than last time."

Peeling her eyes open, she turned her head and almost wished she hadn't.

Mikhaz was not dressed in a soldier's uniform now. Instead, he wore a long white linen shirt and knee-length breeches. The linen shirt had some brown dirt stains on it to disguise himself as a commoner. His hair was as dark as the midnight sky.

He had striking, prominent features. His eyes were the color of the ocean. His skin was sun-kissed. For some odd reason, he looked even more beautiful as a commoner.

And he was staring at her, his eyes piercing deep into her gaze. She felt heat crawl onto her cheeks.

"I feel better knowing that Ravar and her son will get my revenge soon."

"I can only imagine you getting into a full rage and destroying those bastards' souls," he said. "I like this version of you."

Turning her gaze from him, Amasir looked down and brushed the hair on the horse's neck.

"We should start moving," she said, turning to the rest of the soldiers, who was also dressed as commoners.

"You are not riding a horse."

"What?" Amasir frowned slightly. "Why?"

"You can't ride the horse on your own. It would draw too much attention."

"Dressed as a commoner, I wouldn't draw attention."

"But it would be suspicious that a lower-class person can afford to ride a horse."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Amasir asked.

"You will ride with me."

She felt a light skip in her heart. "And why do you think I will ride with you?"

"Because you're not the Princess out here. You are Amas, disguised as a commoner."

Amas.

She opened her mouth to speak, but she was speechless. Lowering her gaze, she heard his footsteps fade away, only for him to return with something.

"I brought you something."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Your mother's sword," he replied.

Amasir felt her throat clog. She thought they had lost her mother's sword after the last fight that took her life.

"I didn't want to give it to you when you were still down, as I worried you might go into full rage over her death and want to kill Ravar and Rughald."

The fact that he had brought her mother's sword meant the world to her.

"Where did you find it?" she asked.

"I overheard some locals wanting to buy a god's sword at the black market. I went there myself and bought it at a higher price."

She slowly nodded her head and carefully unsheathed the sword. After taking a brief look at the blade, she sheathed it back and handed it to Mikhaz. It wouldn't seem right if she was seen with a sword like this.

"Thank you."

Mikhaz only stared at her before turning around to keep it away. When she turned, she saw the soldiers already on their horses.

They greeted her before turning their gazes away.

"My Princess," one of the soldiers, whom she recognized as Nakar, bowed his head as he approached her.

"We need to be on our way if we have any hope of reaching Suvark safely."

"Yes," she nodded.

Mikhaz walked to her. "Are you ready now?"

.....

Two young maids walked inside the meeting room at the palace castle, carrying a long tray. The meeting room in the palace was enormous with high ceilings. The windows were tall with long thick curtains at the sides to cover the sun from entering.

The maids placed the tray on the table and bowed their heads. Then, they went on to pour the brewing tea into each cup on the table.

At the head of the table sat the crowned Prince of Khazanar Country, Rughald. He had long black hair that reached his back. His skin was as pale as snow. His eyes, unlike those of every other god, were a darker golden color. His gaze was dull, lacking any emotion.

Next to him sat the second Queen, Ravar. She had fair skin and long black hair. Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and her lips were thin.

"Now that Gamaal is dead, we need to push things forward," Ravar said.

One of the Elders, an old man with gray hair and dark eyes, leaned forward.

"We are having advantage in this war," he said. "With Gamaal gone, they are leaderless. They are weaker now."

Ravar scoffed lightly. "No," she snapped. "We won this war the moment Gamaal died."

Silence fell over the table, and the Elders all turned to Ravar. Some nodded in agreement, while others remained silent.

"The people must see it that way," one elderly man spoke. "The coronation of the crowned prince Rughald must happen soon. We must crown him before any whispers of rebellion rise."

"Agreed," Ravar nodded. "The sooner we crown him and announce his reign, the stronger our hold."

"The coronation will be celebrated for five nights."

"Then it is declared. Three nights from now, the coronation of my son will begin."

Rughald, who had been silent since the meeting began, spoke up. "And what about the daughter, Amasir?"

Ravar turned to a guard, and he approached her.

"Send messages around that Amasir must show herself to the palace before coronation day, or she will be killed."