Where Dragons Collide (Dragon Ridden Chronicles Book 5) Read online

  Dewdrop’s face was red as he struggled to hold the twins away from his body. It was a fruitless exercise. As soon as he pushed one away, the other had already wiggled free to exact their retaliation.

  “Oy,” Tate called, wanting their attention. She got it, but almost wished she hadn’t when the twins sat up on their haunches and folded their front paws against their chest.

  It was a creepy position—especially when you took their expressions into account. Those faces said they were calculating how easy it would be to bring Tate down.

  Tate’s eyebrow twitched as the hair on the back of her neck rose. Maybe she was better off leaving Dewdrop to his fate, after all.

  She was tempted for half a second.

  “Dewdrop has an important errand to run.”

  Although at this point, she was debating just going herself.

  The twins looked at each other. Both nodded at the same time. Seconds later, Willa’s form started to twist. Her limbs lengthened and some of her fur receded until a child stood where the bearcat had just been.

  The first time she’d done this she’d had the body of a child around nine years old. Now, she looked older. Somewhere around twelve, Tate guessed.

  A thin pelt covered the majority of her body, and her hair contained the same colors and stripes as her bearcat form.

  Vivid green eyes trained on Tate as Willa pointed. “Study.”

  Tate’s eyes followed her finger to a door that led off the entryway and blinked in surprise at the two women peering at them with identical looks of fascination.

  Satisfied Tate understood and wouldn’t bother them anymore, Willa shifted back into her four-legged form before pouncing on top of Dewdrop.

  He groaned in surprise, pushing her off and crawling up another stair.

  Sorry, Dewdrop, Tate apologized in her head. She’d tried to save him, at least.

  “Roslyn, Ashwin, you have unexpectedly good timing. What brings you here?” Tate asked, moving toward them.

  On the stairs, Dewdrop managed to shake his attackers off long enough to struggle to his knees and hook his arms over the banister.

  Pax gave a mock growl as he dug his claws into Dewdrop’s pants and proceeded to climb him like he was a tree. Not to be outdone by her brother, Willa scrambled up the other leg.

  Dewdrop winced but held still as Pax settled on his shoulder. The Veles placed one paw on Dewdrop’s head for balance.

  Willa chose the banister as her perch, curling her feet under her until she looked like she was a queen on her throne, surveying her subjects below.

  Tate glanced at Dewdrop and raised her eyebrows.

  He shook his head, just as confused as her.

  Things didn’t usually work out this flawlessly when Tate was involved. If not for the fact Tate liked and trusted—to a point—both women, her greeting would be a lot less welcoming.

  Seeing Tate coming their way, Roslyn bowed her head in a respectful manner. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced.”

  Tate paused, taking the time to study Roslyn more closely.

  Roslyn was the daughter of a noble line that traced its origins all the way back to the Savior Jaxon Kuno, and it showed in the way she held herself. She possessed a dignity and poise Tate had only ever seen in other nobles.

  Taller than her companion by a few inches, Roslyn had dark brown hair bound into a knot at the back of her head. A few tendrils curled around her face, framing features that possessed a traditional sort of beauty.

  She wore a dark blue fitted jacket over a full skirt of the same color. Her back was straight and her posture impeccable.

  There was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Evidently, her adventures in Silvain had instilled a confidence she’d been lacking. Gone was the girl who’d lost her way, renouncing her noble family in favor of forging her own path.

  There was no doubt in her gaze. No uncertainty or confusion. She knew who she was. More importantly she embraced that person.

  She was someone who could take on the world and might even win.

  Roslyn straightened from her bow, pinning a clear gaze on Tate. “I think you’re in desperate need of my skills and knowledge.”

  “You know about what’s happening tomorrow.”

  Roslyn inclined her chin. “The dragon-ridden’s commander sent me a messenger to inform me of the details.”

  “At least he’s communicating with one of us.”

  Truthfully, he’d made a good decision bringing Roslyn into this. Considering her prior connection with Tate and the fact that she was the estranged daughter of the Duke of Spiritly, she was the best person for the job.

  “He hoped I could lend you some guidance on what to expect.”

  “That couldn’t have been an easy ask.”

  Given her own history with court and the fact many of her former friends had cut Roslyn off when she’d decided to break from her family, it couldn’t have been a welcome decision to venture into that world again.

  Roslyn’s nod of agreement was graceful.

  “And is that why Ashwin’s here too?” Tate glanced in the other woman’s direction.

  Ashwin covered her smile with a hand, her eyes glittering with amusement. The seamstress was vastly different from her noble born friend with her ash blond hair and features even more delicate than Roslyn’s.

  Already pretty, the clothes she wore lent her an air of elegance and wealth. Even Tate’s uneducated eye could tell that Ashwin’s outfit was more finely made than Roslyn’s. The cloth was more expensive, the cut more complicated, and there were enough embellishments on it to fit in with those in the Upper.

  Ashwin’s clothes were a chance to advertise her skills and it showed.

  “You need court attire,” Roslyn said calmly. “Nothing you currently own will be appropriate for your presentment.”

  Tate muttered a curse. Neither woman flinched, treating her reaction as expected. Then again, Ashwin had been down this road with Tate a time or two in the past. She was aware how impatient Tate was when it came to clothes.

  “Something like that takes weeks to design and create. How do you plan to make something on such short notice?” Tate asked, giving in to the inevitable.

  Even someone as stubborn as Tate recognized the truth in Roslyn’s words.

  Ready-made garments wouldn’t pass muster. While talented, there was no way Ashwin had the time needed to produce an outfit worthy of the presentment.

  The nobles and officials who’d be in court were looking for any chance to tear her apart. To point and say she didn’t belong.

  Tate didn’t, but she had no plans to give them such an easy way to drag her down. If they wanted her blood, they’d have to work for it.

  “I’m capable of miracles, didn’t you know?” Ashwin’s smile was coy.

  “Is that right?”

  Ashwin leaned forward and winked. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Your outfit has been in the works for months.”

  Surprise filled Tate. “Are you serious?”

  Ashwin shared a conspiratorial look with her friend.

  Roslyn folded her hands at her waist as the corners of her lips turned up in a tiny smile. “You could say I’ve been preparing for this for a while.”

  “Shall we get started?” Ashwin asked with a bright voice.

  Tate grimaced and gestured toward the stairs that led up to her room. “If you insist.”

  * * *

  Preferring to avoid the inevitable teasing Dewdrop and the twins would subject her to, Tate decided her room would be the best venue for her lessons and fitting. Tate led Roslyn and Ashwin up the first flight of stairs and then the second. They headed for the third floor Tate had claimed as her own space. Dewdrop, Night, and the cubs resided on the first two floors.

  The house was big for a family their size, giving everyone plenty of room to spread out and make a place of their own.

  Unlike the first two floors that had a more traditional layout of clearly def
ined rooms and hallways, Tate’s floor was a little different. Stepping onto the landing, you were greeted by a pair of bookcases and a settee that faced the large window above the foyer. A cozy looking throw was casually tossed over the settee where a stack of books sat at the foot of it. An empty teacup from the night before rested on the short end table next to it.

  Tate was a frequent visitor to the nook and it showed.

  Beyond the bookcases was a wide-open space with a peaked roof that served as her bedroom. Wooden floors made it warm and inviting. One wall was composed entirely of windows that let out onto a rooftop balcony.

  Tate’s unmade bed sat at the end of the room. Next to it was a chair with clothes casually strewn across it. On second thought, maybe she should have asked Roslyn and Ashwin for time to straighten and clean her room.

  “Sorry about the mess. I didn’t expect company.”

  Her apology was nothing more than lip service. It was something she thought a normal person would say rather than what she actually felt. Society might consider this a severe breach of conduct, but Tate had never been able to bring herself to care about such arbitrary rules.

  Ilith bared her teeth. I’d like to hear them insult our territory.

  Tate hid her grimace. That was something she hadn’t considered. Dragon-ridden were exceptionally territorial. Ilith considered this room sacrosanct. Completely and utterly hers. That possessiveness extended to the house and, to a lesser extent, the entire empire of Aurelia.

  In this space, Ilith was queen. Insulting the queen’s things was considered blasphemy of the highest order.

  Already Ilith’s emotions were stained with agitation.

  “I like it.” Roslyn studied her surroundings with a soft smile that held no hint of subterfuge or disapproval. “It suits you. I can’t imagine you in any other setting.”

  Ashwin had stopped in a patch of sun coming in through the windows. She tilted her face up and closed her eyes, basking in the light.

  Pleasure was written on her face.

  Slowly her eyes opened. “I can’t think of a better sanctuary. It must be glorious on rainy days too. Watching rain drops hit the glass, listening to their soft lullaby as you fall asleep.”

  Ilith calmed. They have good taste. They can stay.

  So glad you approve, your majesty, Tate thought wryly.

  Ilith conscious started to fade. We must be understanding of those who aren’t as fortunate.

  A huff of laughter escaped Tate. Roslyn and Ashwin looked over at her with curiosity.

  She waved a hand in dismissal. “Private joke. Don’t mind me.”

  Ashwin set down the large bag she’d been carrying and started rummaging through it. “If you could disrobe, we will begin.”

  With a sense of resignation, Tate moved to the rarely used small screen in the corner of the room. Meant for privacy, Tate usually didn’t bother with it. No one except the twins bothered her up here. Their usual shenanigans involved lying in wait for her unsuspecting ankles and viciously attacking them while using her bed as cover.

  On occasion, they used other places in the room to stage their ambush, but it was rare. As a result, she only really needed to worry when she first entered the room.

  Presently, they and Dewdrop were engaged in a protracted campaign, leaving Tate to a little peace and quiet. That would end, no doubt, but for now, Tate didn’t have to worry.

  A part of her was sad that the twins might one day grow out of their antics. As much of a menace as they were, they kept everyone on their toes and made life more interesting.

  Moving behind the protection of the screen, Tate took off her boots. “Tell me about court. Who’s going to be there?”

  She pulled her top over her head as fabric rustled on the other side.

  “You can expect to see any nobles who are currently in residence,” Roslyn said.

  Tate may have gotten lucky there. It was tradition for the wealthier of the city to spend the first two months either in the south where it was warmer or checking on their territories.

  Tate was betting many of them hadn’t returned quite yet with spring only just setting in.

  “Any I should watch out for?”

  Tate took the garments Ashwin passed her.

  “All of them.”

  Tate paused in the act of examining the clothes. “That’s reassuring.”

  “Make no mistake. You’re entering a pit of vipers. It’s a pretty pit and the vipers are all beautiful and well adorned, but they’ll still rip out your throat or poison you at a moment’s notice.” Roslyn’s voice was bitter and cold.

  The room went quiet as Tate took the undershirt Ashwin had given her and set the rest of the outfit on the small dressing table.

  “Don’t drop your guard while there; they won’t hesitate to stab you in the back—or the front. Friendships are rare. Most connections are the result of mutual benefit and shared goals.”

  This was the kind of environment Tate hadn’t prevented Daisy from volunteering to enter. Great.

  Tate wasn’t worried about herself. If things went bad, she had Ilith. Even if she didn’t, she had a long history of getting herself out of trouble. The other side often ended up bloody—and sometimes dead—but that was the price you paid when you messed with a dragon or a dragon’s Savior.

  Daisy didn’t have that. Her connection with her dragon had stabilized after Ilith had a talk with Skye, her bonded, but she was young. And she wasn’t a warrior. She wasn’t accustomed to the feel of blood on her hands. She might not be as ruthless as she needed to be in such a situation.

  “Who else will be there?”

  “Anyone who has a title in the government.”

  Tate finished putting on the rest of the clothes and walked out from behind the screen. She made her way over to the standing mirror in the corner of the room, stepping up onto the stool Ashwin had relocated from her reading nook.

  “Besides the nobles, you’ll have representatives of both the Kairi and the Silva,” Roslyn said, naming the two other primary races in the empire. “You can also expect to see the Grandmaster of the Guardians and the Lord Obsidian of the Black Order.”

  Tate could understand why she’d mentioned those two groups in particular. Tate’s often fraught connection with them wasn’t a secret.

  Her relationship with the Guardians was ambiguous at best, but she didn’t think they were enemies. As long as she didn’t threaten them too much, they’d be content not to meddle with her.

  The Black Order on the other hand was a different story. You could only classify their relationship as extremely poor. That tended to happen when one side referred to the other as an abomination.

  Between the Grand Master and the Lord Obsidian, the latter was the one Tate was most concerned about. She’d never met him so she had no way of knowing how much of a problem he would be. If his subordinates were anything to judge by, he was going to be an ass.

  “The ceremony itself is an old tradition stemming from the very beginnings of our empire. The first part takes place behind closed doors with only a few of the highest officials in attendance. The second, and more publicly known, involves presenting you to the citizens of the empire and then a ball where the guests wield weapons cleverly disguised as compliments,” Roslyn continued.

  Tate lifted her arms when Ashwin poked them, holding still as the seamstress eyed the cuffs. She tweaked the material here and there, muttering to herself. There was an intense look in her eyes, making Tate think she wasn’t really listening to Roslyn. The clothes were the only thing before her eyes. Everything else was unimportant.

  What must it be like to have such a drive and passion where nothing else mattered?

  Tate had to admit she was a little jealous.

  “Tell me about the closed-door ceremony,” Tate said, returning to the conversation.

  “What I know is only what I learned in history books or things I heard from my father,” Roslyn said.

  “That’s far more than
I can claim.” Tate twisted to grin at Roslyn. “Besides, I’m used to winging it.”

  And she was fairly certain Thora or one of the other dragon-ridden would fill in the holes. Roslyn was here to get her as familiar as possible with the etiquette and rules. The details could be handled later.

  Tate held still as Ashwin jerked hard on the hem of the jacket she was wearing, moving around her and smoothing out the material at her shoulders.

  “The closed-door ceremony will only be attended by the emperor’s council. I’m not sure if it comes before or after the public ceremony. The most important thing to know about is that there is a test involved.”

  “What sort of test?”

  “The kind it would be very bad to fail.” Roslyn met Tate’s gaze in the mirror. “All I know is it involves a minor god.”

  At that, Tate dropped her arms, turning to face Roslyn. Ashwin protested around a mouthful of pins.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Uncertainty flitted across Roslyn’s face. “Truthfully, no. This is something my father said in passing. As you know there hasn’t been a new dragon-ridden in over a century.”

  At least not one who’d survived. Tate suspected other dragons had made the crossing but finding suitable hosts that would live past the first transformation and not go mad was a challenge.

  It did make Tate wonder if they planned to have Daisy take this secret test. Without knowing more, Tate couldn’t even begin to guess whether she would pass.

  Tate held out hope that Daisy would only participate in the public part of the ceremony. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Thora wouldn’t jeopardize Daisy if he could help it. She had to trust he wouldn’t place her in danger.

  Nor did she think the emperor would act in such a way.

  For all that the dragonlette’s were a time bomb, their presence would also strengthen his rule. Who wanted to attack the empire of a man that had so many dragon-ridden loyal to him? It would take a mad person.

  Too bad Tate could think of several madmen off the top of her head. None of them enemies she particularly wanted to fight.

  “Very well.” Tate would ask one of the others about it later. “What about the public part?”