Blood of Dragons

He stared into her face, expecting to see anger or at least tears. But she looked wooden, her eyes fixed on a hopeless future. ‘This is monstrous! How can you just accept what he does to me? To you?’

She gave a bitter laugh and slumped on the simple wooden stool and gestured around the little room. It was small and comfortably appointed, but the bars on the window and the stout door proclaimed what it was: a gilded cage. ‘I am as much his captive as you are, and as human as you say you are, but it will make no difference to him. He will consume us both. I am the bribe that he offers Ellik in return for the Chancellor doing all he can to preserve my father’s miserable life. It gives me a little comfort that you say that if he consumes you, your death will not buy him more life.’ She looked down at her hands and confided hopelessly, ‘Once, I had planned to outlive him and then to proclaim myself his rightful heir. All my brothers are dead, either at my father’s hands or of the blood plague. And I am eldest of my sisters and the only one not wed away in trade. The throne should be mine upon his death.’

He looked at her incredulously. ‘Would his nobles support you in such a claim?’

She shook her head. ‘It was a silly dream. Those I attempted to rally to my cause are, ultimately, as powerless as I am. It was the fancy I concocted to give purpose and hope to my life. Now it’s gone. I have no way left to reach out to those who also shared my ambition. Instead I shall comfort myself with the knowledge that he will not outlive me by much, if at all.’

Selden furrowed his brow. ‘But you are a young woman. Surely you shall outlive your father by many years.’

‘My father’s daughter might have a long lifespan, but not Ellik’s wife, I think. His last wife gave him heir sons for his own fortune and name. That was all he needed of her, and when he was finished with her, her life was finished, too. He needs but one son from me to establish a regency the other nobles will not challenge. I am sure that is why the mother of his sons died so suddenly; to make space for me.’ She looked at him. ‘I did not know her but I mourn her. His last woman has scarcely begun to rot in her grave, and Ellik is ready to begin on me. No. I will be consumed just as you are. But not, I am told, until I have restored you to health. So. To hasten our ends, you should eat.’ Her tone became falsely light, a mockery of the tragedy in her eyes.

She rose and brought a little table to his bedside. On it was a tray with a large covered dish set beside two smaller ones. She lifted the lid on the large dish. Selden stared at a mound of raw meat cut into chunks. An inadvertent sound of disgust welled from his throat. She stared at him. ‘Are you not hungry?’

‘If it were cooked,’ he said faintly. At the prospect of food, his mouth had begun to water, but the bloody red chunks of flesh only reminded him of his ultimate fate. He turned away, swallowing. His wakened hunger was making him nauseous.

‘I can remedy that,’ she said, and for the first time, her voice seemed free of bitterness. ‘I can toast it over the hearth here, and will welcome whatever you leave. My father does not think it fitting that women consume flesh. This is my provender.’ She uncovered the two smaller dishes. One held grain porridge with a generous pat of butter still melting in the centre of it, and the other a heap of boiled vegetables in an orange, yellow and green heap. At the sight of them, Selden’s stomach growled loudly. The homely smell of stewed turnips, carrots and cabbage almost brought tears to his eyes.

Chassim was silent for a moment. ‘If we share all, there is enough for both of us to dine well.’ Her voice was hesitant, her eyes downcast.

‘Please,’ he begged, and something in that simple word woke the first shadow of a smile he had seen on her face.

‘Please,’ she said softly to herself, as if the word were foreign to her. ‘Yes. And with thanks.’