Chapter 16: Hiding the Evidence

He sees within a fire the same, A soul unbowed by blood or name. And she, in him, the sky set free, Not chained by kings, but destiny. Skylar I can’t get the image of that little red dragon out of my head. She was here, alive and breathing one minute, and the next she was gone. Forever. ‘Skylar, you have to understand …’ Yttyc begins. ‘No! I don’t have to understand anything, Yttyc. He killed her. That’s what I KNOW,’ I say, unwilling to hear anything else while I have the memory of her moving in her egg fresh in my mind and the smell if her death on my clothes. He’s quiet after that, landing back at King Emmanuel’s castle. “This isn’t where I need to go,” I tell him, softly. I don't want his help, but I need it if I'm going to get back into Kenneth's castle unseen. ‘Where do you need to go?’ he asks. “There is a castle between here and the one that stole the golden egg. That’s the castle I need to go to.” He carefully scoops me up again and begins flying me to Kenneth’s castle. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” I ask him. ‘We’re about an hour before dawn.” Shit! When we land again, I look around. I still have quite a ways to go to get to the castle, but this will have to do. I quickly strip off my pants and shirt. “I need to get rid of these,” I say to Yttyc. ‘Stand back,’ he says. I do and he blows fire over them, destroying any evidence of what happened tonight. All that’s left is the cloak I’m wearing. Since that’s all I’m wearing, I have no choice but to keep it. “Thank you for giving me a ride, Yttyc,” I say, reaching out to stroke his face. He croons and clicks softly. I kiss his nose. “Okay, I have to go.” I pull the hood over my blond hair and begin running back to the castle. On the way, I find Radiance. However, because I smell like dragon, she won’t come near me. I look around quickly, making sure no one is around, then open the gate for her to at least get inside the paddock. Now, the stable hands will think she got out of her stall, but wasn't able to get any further. I carefully make my way to the castle, staying as deep in the shadows as I can. Every minute that passes lightens the area around me as the sun begins to rise. I finally get into the castle, only to have to hide again and again as staff members begin their day, getting breakfast ready or cleaning the floors in the dining room. I manage to get to my room and strip off the cloak without anyone seeing me. I quickly find one of the pails of water that the attendant brought me. It’s cold, but it will have to do. I wash the blood and dirt off my hands and arms, then I scrub the blood that seeped through my pants and onto my legs. When I’m done, the pail of water is nearly black. I’ll let her make whatever she wants of the filthy water. I find a second pail and pour half of the water into the pail that I was supposedly vomiting in last night. Then I shove the cloak in it, trying to wash out the sickening scent of death. I go into my closet, not feeling nearly clean enough, but not having any other option at the moment, and I pull on a nightgown. Then I crawl into bed and fall into an exhausted sleep. I awake to the sounds of retching. My eyes shoot open and I look over at the attendant. She’s got her hand covering her mouth and nose. “Mi … Mi … Milady.” “I’m so sorry, Genevieve. I was truly sick last night. I can’t smell it, but it must be terrible.” She nods and rushes to the windows, throwing them open and quickly breathing in the fresh air. After a few minutes, she turns to me. “Would you like me to have a bath brought up for you, Milady?” “Yes, please. And I’ll take some food too. I’m feeling much better this morning,” I say. In truth, I’m starving. I barely ate anything last night and I was very busy carrying a heavy dragon egg out of King Emmanuel’s castle. “I’ll have both brought up right away, and we’ll clean these out, too,” she says, pointing at the pails. “Oh, and I’m so sorry, but I was cold and I put on that cloak. I vomited all over it. Is it possible to get it cleaned?” “Yes, Milady,” she says, but her face looks like it’s tinged with green. I truly can’t smell it any longer, but it must be terrible. Within thirty minutes, the pails and my cloak have been removed and a tub with hot water have been brought in for me. "I brought you a bland breakfast, Milady. After last night, you don’t want to overload your stomach,” Genevieve says. “You’re absolutely right.” As hungry as I am, I need to play the part. As I soak in the hot tub, letting the heat relax my sore muscles, I look at Genevieve who is looking through my clothes, deciding what I should wear today. “Has anyone heard from Prince Kenneth?” I ask. “No, Milady, but it’s not uncommon for the prince to be gone for days without any word of how he’s doing. Not to worry, our prince is very strong.” “Is there any other news?” I ask, wondering if word has made it here about King Emmanuel losing his egg. “No, Milady.” “Okay, thank you.” I finish soaking, thankful that I finally smell like me again. When I get out, I eat the bland food that Genevieve brought me for breakfast. Then, I head out to continue planning for my wedding. I’ve just reached the external corridor when I hear something smash to the ground nearby. Instantly, I get an image of Bynjym smashing the little red dragon egg, crushing the life out of her. “Milady, are going to be ill again?” Genevieve asks me quietly. I realize I’ve put my hand over my mouth, and she is incorrectly assuming that I’m going to be sick. “You know what, Genevieve. I think I might. I think I’d better spend a bit more time in my room today,” I say. I turn and begin to rush back inside, the images of last night flashing in my head, the sound of the egg crashing, the smell of her blood on my hands and clothes. I’m so close to breaking and I can’t. I'm a royal. I can’t cry in front of anyone here. I run back inside, needing to get away, needing to be in the privacy of my own room before I break down. I’m almost there, when I nearly run into him. King Solomon. He stands tall, unwavering, unblinking, looking down his straight nose at me with hatred in his eyes. “Thief.” One word, spoken so softly that no one other than me can hear it. But I do hear it and I know, right now, he’s not out of his mind. He’s very much in his right mind and somehow, he knows. He knows exactly what I am.