His words didn’t have the desired effect. If anything, Merletta looked more troubled, and the thoughtful look on August’s face made Heath wonder if the older man was seeing something Heath was missing.
There was no time to explore the question, however. They reached Heath’s family’s city manor in no time, and were soon surrounded by the bustle of servants. A message had been sent ahead, and rooms were ready for Merletta and August. The housekeeper swept them away, and Heath’s father bore him inexorably off to the castle, where they were expected.
The formal reception was tedious, and if there was any purpose to it other than to promote the total falsehood that the king and the duke were still on easy terms in spite of Percival’s arrest, Heath couldn’t identify it.
The king gave a gracious and unruffled welcome speech at the royal reception, with no mention of tensions or concerns. All the whispered discussion, however, was around the ceremony the following day. Given the fact that the dragons had warned they would not come this year if their magic was unwelcome, there was a great deal of speculation about whether the imposed restrictions would be enough to keep them away. No one doubted that they were aware of it.
A few of Heath’s cousins asked him if the dragons were coming, but he just told them vaguely—and truthfully—that he hadn’t spoken to Reka recently, and had no idea.
He was barely paying attention to any of it. He didn’t much care whether the dragons came or not. He had faith that his friendship with Reka would be unaffected by the attitude of the colony at large, so what did it really matter? Whatever the fear-mongers whispered, it wasn’t as though the dragons were going to attack. If they disapproved, they’d just withdraw, return to their former reclusive ways.
Somehow, he couldn’t seem to muster up any concern over the issue. His thoughts were all with Merletta, eager to be back at home. He was therefore disappointed to be told, upon finally arriving back at the manor, that she’d already retired for the night.
He shook off his unease. She was tired, and understandably so. A stray thought occurred to him, and for a moment he found himself imagining how he would feel if he was somehow—impossibly—thrust into her underwater world.
The thought made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t pursue it.
He was up early the next morning, more excited for the day’s festivities than he could remember being in years. The Winter Solstice Festival was supposed to be one of the year’s biggest celebrations, but even before the tension of the previous two festivals, Heath had found it a little tedious to be dragged from Bexley Manor in the coldest part of winter.
This year was different, however. Merletta would be beside him, and he could hardly wait to show her the city, and watch her amazement at the ceremony. Hopefully even dance with her at the ball to be held after the feast.
A memory flitted through his mind from the previous year’s Winter Solstice. Not the dragons’ threatening words, but the stranger Heath had seen in the crowd—the one emanating a whiff of power. Heath frowned to himself. He’d been convinced at the time that the stranger was the same man Heath had seen in the markets as a child, the first time he’d sensed magic.
But now a different connection formed in his mind. He’d assumed the man must be a Kyonan power-wielder, visiting without fanfare for reasons unknown. Was it possible it was the same person responsible both for the attack on Percival and the one on Heath? He would have to consult his family tree…but that couldn’t be right. The only older middle-aged Kyonan man with magic was Crown Prince Rory, and Heath had met him. He wasn’t the stranger in the crowd.
For a moment he strained his memory, wishing he could recreate past events like Reka could. He wasn’t at all confident that the magic he’d felt at the festival was the same as the magic present at the two attacks. They’d both come later.
With a shake of the head, he abandoned the attempt. How could he possibly be expected to remember with such detail after so long? It didn’t matter, anyway. It wasn’t important now. Not when he had a whole city of human wonders to show Merletta.
The family ate breakfast together, Merletta and August eating little. Both seemed on edge, enough so that Heath asked Merletta about it as they began the walk to the castle courtyard for the ceremony.
“I told August that the ceremony involves dragons,” Merletta said quietly. “He’s…concerned.”
“He doesn’t need to be,” Heath said confidently. “They never stay for long, and there’s some uncertainty as to whether they’ll even come this year.” He dropped his voice as they passed a group of chattering locals. “They don’t approve of the restrictions on magic.”
Merletta considered this in silence. “If they don’t show up, August will be more relaxed,” she said. “But wouldn’t that be deeply distressing for your kingdom, to have a colony of dragons publicly reject them?”
Heath shrugged. “Deeply distressing is a bit of an overstatement,” he said.
Merletta gave him a strange look, but they’d reached the courtyard, and she said no more. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the castle’s imposing facade, stone walls rising high above them, and pennants snapping in the brisk breeze.
“Is this where your king lives?” she asked.
Heath nodded. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He pointed at the enormous stone basin suspended above them, fire flickering faintly from within it. “And that’s the Flame of Friendship I told you about, the symbol of peace and cooperation between Valoria and the dragons. It’s actually Reka’s fire in there, but it’s almost out because it’s been a year.”
Tension radiated off August, walking just behind them, but Merletta seemed more fascinated than afraid as she stared up at the faint orange flame, flickering occasionally purple.
“It is beautiful,” she acknowledged, with a touch of wistfulness.
Moving surreptitiously, Heath found her hand and squeezed it. “I’m so happy you’re here with me,” he whispered. “I can hardly believe it.”
“It’s certainly surreal,” she agreed, smiling faintly at him.
“Time to take our places, Heath.”
His mother’s voice called Heath’s attention back to the courtyard, and he pulled Merletta forward, August still trailing behind them. The duchess looked at the three of them hesitantly, but said nothing as Heath brought the two guests into the section where the royals all stood in their ranked order.
“Are you sure we should be standing with you here?” Merletta whispered, the uncertainty back in her voice.