Chapter 10

Chapter 10

After quickly taking her bath in the tub, Amasir wore her clothes and stood in front of the mirror. The gown she wore was white with golden threads. It reminded her of the clothes she wore when she was little at the capital.

The royals dressed only in traditional attire—black and red with golden dragon designs sewn in the fabric.

Still standing in front of the mirror, she started braiding her hair. Then, she walked around the room, reading some books to distract her mind while waiting for breakfast to be ready.

A knock on the door drew her attention, and she turned around to see Mikhaz walk in. He was dressed in all black, wearing a soldier's uniform.

"Good morning, Princess," he greeted her. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Feeling fine."

"And I hope you slept well?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Why are you here?"

"Khazir must have sensed the emotions of the people around her after hearing about the Queen's death because she started growing restless afterward," Mikhaz explained.

Hearing that, Amasir hurried to the window and gripped the bars. She heard Khazir's loud, deep growls from the fire pit. She knew her rider was dead.

Amasir had seen the bond between her mother and Khazir. They were more than best friends. Khazir would burn anyone at her mother's command, and she was a feisty dragon.

Khazir was Gamaal's father and she had claimed her when she was only fifteen after her father died. It was said that Khazir would burn anyone who tried to claim her. Khazir burned Gamaal's brothers to death because she sensed even the slightest fear in them. But when Gamaal approached Khazir's cave that night, she was fearless. Even then, Khazir had been ready to spit fire out of her mouth until her mother started speaking the old Dragonir language. She took bold steps forward, and to her surprise, Khazir bowed her head to her.

Amasir tensed. Khazir was the only dragon here in Suvark. Not that she had expected another dragon to be here. Dragons were made only for the gods because they were the ones who had created them. In all of history, dragons had never bowed to humans because they saw them weak.

"Tonight is the first celebration of Prince Rughald's coronation," Mikhaz said.

"I have to claim Khazir today," Amasir said, turning to Mikhaz.

"No." Mikhaz shook his head. "That would be dangerous. Khazir is still mourning the loss of her rider. Trying to claim her now would only make her angry, and she would burn you."

"You are right."

"Give her some time."

"Only a few days because we can't waste any more time here," she said. "If Rughald becomes King, then it's over for me."

"We will not let him become King," Mikhaz said. "Give Khazir a few days, and then you can claim her."

Amasir exhaled sharply.

"Breakfast is ready. You should come downstairs."

"I am starving," she breathed out and followed him out of the room.

They walked down the corridor, and Amasir tried not to think about her mother when she saw her painting hanging on the wall—how her mother had died a painful death.

As soon as they entered the dining room, Amasir saw men and women seated. They were used to eating in groups, and the dining room was big enough to accommodate everyone.

She took her seat next to Nayalirr at the dining table, with Mikhaz on her right. Laid before them were various dishes—beef, cheese, bread, coffee, beans, roasted duck, and more. The smell made her stomach churn pleasantly.

Mikhaz placed some beef and mashed potatoes on her plate.

"Princess," Mikhaz whispered when he noticed her blacking out.

She slowly turned her head to him.

"You should eat."

She took her spoon and brought a portion of mashed potatoes to her mouth. The food was hot and delicious. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten food this good and warm.

"With Ravar planning to crown her son, what should be our plan?" one of the men at the table asked.

"We will be leaving for the capital soon," Mikhaz said. "We will leave to challenge Rughald for the throne."

"You won't be able to get past the soldiers at the castle."

"We have Khazir. She will burn the soldiers down."

"We only have Khazir," an older man at the table spoke up, and Amasir turned to him. "But the royals have more than ten powerful dragons."

"We may have only Khazir, but she is powerful. She has witnessed many wars and knows what to do."

"I'm not saying Khazir isn't powerful, but you should know we have lost men. Not just men—we have lost good people who tried to help you and your mother during the war," he said.

Amasir tensed as images of dragons taking the lives of innocent people of Suvark filled her mind. Parents and children had been slaughtered mercilessly.

She tried to shake the thought from her head. Her fingers ached from how tightly she held the spoon.

"And even after all these years of enduring suffering, the Queen we all placed our hopes on was killed. Don't you think we should back down and ask for mercy from Ravar?"

Mercy? Amasir wanted to ask if the old man was in his right mind. Why would they ask for mercy from Ravar after all these years?

She refused to do such a thing. No one spoke. There was no movement, and even the sound of a buzzing fly could be heard.

"You should submit yourself at the capital now while you're alive because once you step into that cave, we won't know if you'll survive claiming the dragon."

"You should stop talking," Mikhaz said with a deep frown.

"No, he should continue," Amasir said. "Everyone at this table has the right to speak their mind. It also looks like Ilagurr has something to say."

Ilagurr who was seated next to the old man frowned.

"Whatever the Princess plans to do to claim the throne, I'm with her," Nayalirr said.

"Are you serious?" Ilagurr spoke up, shooting a glare at Nayalirr. "Ever since the Princess came to our land, we have experienced nothing but death."

Amasir shifted, her hands sliding away from the spoon.

"It still won't change my mind," Nayalirr said. "I stand with the Princess on her plan."

"She is a curse, and I will never choose her," Ilagurr spat. His face slowly darkened to a deeper shade of red. "All of you know this. She brought death to our land. We were fine until we decided to help, and since then, the royals have been after our lives. It doesn't matter if she has taken us as her own or the promises she made if she becomes Queen. She's a god, like the rest of those who have killed our families, and we're supposed to believe she'll fulfill her promises once she's Queen?"

"You all do this, and it will be the downfall of Suvark. The Queen will find us here, and she will kill us. I will not choose that cursed bitch."

Amasir's Aether stirred inside her. Her insides burned as if she had just stepped out of boiling water.

"I'll see her submitted to the Queen before I stand by and allow more of our people to die."

Seconds passed after Ilagurr spoke, and the room fell silent.

Mikhaz turned to Amasir's chair to ask if he should hold Ilagurr as a prisoner. Since Ilagurr was an important figure in Suvark, Mikhaz couldn't arrest him on his own; he needed the Princess's permission.

But Amasir's chair was empty.

A yelp and a scream tore through the air. The wooden chair screeched against the concrete floor, and Ilagurr was no longer sitting. Instead, he was pinned against the wall with Amasir's hand around his neck.

Her skin was glowing white like an Angel.

"You should know I'm not upset about you voicing your opinions, but if only you had stopped before insulting me, I would have let you walk out of here unharmed. But then, you insulted your Princess, and you know that is considered offensive here."

Before Ilagurr could speak, Aether spilled from Amasir's hand and engulfed him. She stepped back and watched as he was reduced to ashes.

Slowly turning her head, she walked back to the now-silent table.

"Does anyone else have something to say?"