Heir of Kyree {under editing}

7 | with the world watching

Adora's hands shook as she watched the Zylan Prince trudge up the stairs. A servant rushed up beside him and handed him a towel and a red robe which he quickly snatched out of her hands. Slipping his arms into the sleeves of his satin robe, the Prince muttered something under his breath. He appeared tense and each step he took seemed to shake the world beneath him. Clenching her fists, Adora bit her lip as he reached the final level and came to a halt before her.

His golden gaze was dark, just a shimmering void. The curls of his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, beads of sweat running down his chest and backside. Sunlight was starting to peak out through the grey clouds above and Adora took note of the way it made the red tattoos stand out.

The Princess swallowed.

"Are you always this violent?" She dared to ask, keeping her gaze level with his. He cocked his head, wiping a drop of sweat that had emerged from his brow.

"I'm a Dragon, it's what I'm meant to do." He responded. The rasp in his voice was almost as cold as the breeze kissing Adora's neck. He shook his head, looking down at the ground. "Maximus and I have never had a good relationship. He's my father's General, not mine." The Prince clenched his jaw, sticking his hand out in front of him.

"Care to join me for lunch?" Adora blinked, staring at his outstretched palm blankly. "Perhaps we can find you something warmer to wear." He added, eyes scanning the frail nightgown that still adorned her body. Suddenly feeling exposed, Adora crossed her arms across her chest. A faint red color spread across her cheeks. The gown barely fell past her upper thighs and she felt vulnerable under the stare of so many men.

Soldiers left and right had stopped their ministrations to stare at the two Dragons at the top of the stairs. They whispered to each other, hands cupping their mouths as if it would do anything to make their words hurt less. Carried by the wind, their words surrounded Adora, making her feel ever so alone. The Prince's gaze flickered behind her and something changed in his eyes. He narrowed his eyes, sliding his hand onto Adora's hip. She flinched, taken aback.

The Prince leaned into her neck, his warm breath tickling her neck. "Just follow my lead," He breathed, slowly slipping off his robe. "If there's any chance of gaining the Zylan people's appreciation, our union will have to appear genuine. If gaining their favor means we have to play the role of two star-crossed lovers then so be it." Adora frowned, scoffing under her breath. She crossed her arms tighter, gritting her teeth in irritation.

"And if we don't?" The Prince paused, a cold breeze passing through his hair. But the frigid air didn't seem to affect him. Not a single goosebumps could be found on his tan skin which was no doubt a blessing from his fire magic.

"Then they will feel no remorse when you're found dead in your room with a knife plunged in your heart and your tattoos carved out." With one quick motion, he placed the robe on Adora's shoulders, encouraging her to embrace it as her own. But even with the soft, silky fabric covering her skin, Adora had never felt so cold.

"Thank you," she murmured just loud enough for him. The Princess gulped attempting to process his words over the loud roaring of her heartbeat. She glanced up at the sun that peeked out from behind the clouds. Even in the Zylan Kingdom, the winter sky was dark.

"I should have known better than to come out dressed like this in such weather," Adora said, changing the subject. The Prince raised a brow before taking notice of the small group of soldiers that were watching them. They were huddled together, all eyes pinned on the hold the Prince's hold at Adora's hip. Turning his back towards them, he motioned for her to start walking.

"Were the servants not kind to you?" Wyld asked, his hand firmly pulling Adora closer to him. She stifled a breath as he tucked her into his side, his arm resting at her waist. Adora was blasted with the scent of lavender invading her nostrils, mixed with the smell of sweat and ocean. In the back of her mind, Adora was reminded of the way Tyrus used to hold her. He too used to tuck her into his chest with a certain degree of possessiveness. The only difference that accompanied the Prince was the audience the couple now had.