Page 27 of House of Ashes

“We’ll work on your muscle training after you’ve filled out a little more. Soon you’ll have to look like a princess. Nilsa will be in charge of that. Kirana’s tailor will outfit you for a new wardrobe, but as you put weight back on, we’ll have to reassess.”

I raised an eyebrow at him over my soup. “It sounds like you have this all planned out.”

“Drink it,” was all he said, a warning in his tone. I wondered if he would hold me down and physically force it down my throat if I didn’t comply.

“Yes, sir,” I said, rolling my eyes skyward, but I obeyed—if only because my stomach was growling for more.

“I’ve been working out the plan with Kirana while you were sleeping.” His eyes followed my hand as I picked out a candied plum and brought it to my mouth. “The Houses will be convening in Koressis soon for the First Claim, where someone is almost certainly going to set off a war. Yura and Tidas will be bringing the entire might of their Houses combined.”

“We need an equal show of might,” I mused, slathering cinnamon butter on a slice of bread. “Or, in my case, wealth. I have no other dragonbloods in my House, and no doubt the Bloodless are long gone.”

As my mother and I had been the last dragonbloods of Varyamar, my House was not rich in heirs, but what it lacked there, it made up for in the richness of its treasure hoard.

So, rather than attending with a retinue of dragonbloods, I would be attending much like Erebos: dripping with the wealth of my House.

Which would look ridiculous on a skeletal draga.

I licked the butter off my fingers, and Rhylan looked away. Let him think me crude and unmannered if he pleased; I remembered my table manners perfectly well.

I simply didn’t care at this moment, determined to consume every speck of fat or sugar I could get my hands on. Every time I thought I was too full, I realized that was a lie.

I thought I might be ravenous forever. My stomach was a pit that would never be filled.

“Yes,” he agreed. “We have two weeks before the First Claim.”

I almost choked on my roll. “You expect me to gain my weight back in two weeks?”

That would be impossible. Even if I spent every night swigging cream and oil straight from their bottles, I would have no time to practice riding him to make it look as natural as breathing—the exercise of that alone would work off more weight than I could spare.

More importantly, the First Claim might be the most critical moment in this particular Interregnum.

Draconic Law dictated that because there was no heir, anyone could submit themselves as the future rulers of Akalla. All of the Houses would observe two weeks of mourning for the lost Drakkon—and at the First Claim, the lines would be drawn in the sand. Decisions would be weighed, alliances considered.

Only those aspirants with the right of might would make it to the Second Claim…if the Interregnum lasted that long. If we could simply convince all the Great Houses to join us, their vassals, the minor Houses, would follow, and Yura would have no choice but to back down after the First.

But that was a fanciful hope. I would not possess the allure to position myself as the more powerful candidate on appearance alone—not in two weeks.

“No.” He filled a cup with tea, added several heaping spoonfuls of honey, and pushed it towards me. “The First Claim will be brief—Yura and Tidas will issue their claim, and so will we. The Shadowed Stars might put in a claim as well. We just need to show enough strength to give the Houses something to think about, especially the ones considering backing Maristela. For now, it’s smoke and mirrors, since there’s almost certainly going to be a Second Claim.”

I waved his hands away. He wasn’t my servant and I didn’t need him to wait on me. “I can make my own tea, thank you very much. I think we’ll be lucky to manage that much, but I’m more concerned with how we’re going to arrive. It’s not going to make a very good impression if I fall right off your back like a lump.”

My entrance into Jhazra had been…less than graceful. And I already knew I wouldn’t be wearing a draga’s typical leathers to something as important as the First Claim.

I’d attended several meetings of the Houses as a child, and most dragonbloods showed up looking much like their Ascendants: glittering with gems, the dragons armored, showing off their wealth.

Rhylan’s eyes softened, flicking towards my pink-palmed hands again. Whatever Kirana had used, it was very good. I hardly felt the lingering ache now. “We’ll work on that tomorrow. As long as you trust me, we can fake it well enough.”

I raised the tea cup to my lips to hide my face.

There was no other choice but to trust him, although my heart still screamed at me not to trust him at all, not after what he'd done.

But I was my mother’s daughter. Intellect would triumph over emotion.

“I’ll trust you as much as I can,” I said slowly, setting the cup aside. “That’s all I can promise.”

It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. He couldn’t ask a miracle of me, nor me of him.

He nodded, expression veiled. “There’s another sandwich. Eat it.”