Forbidden Honor (Dragon Royals #1)(4)

Home. It wasn’t my home anymore, my stepmother had made that clear, but I still couldn’t stop thinking of it that way.

The coral-colored mansion where I’d grown up stood at the edge of the city, overlooking lush green public gardens. My family owned another mansion—a castle, really—on our lands to the south, but my father had liked to stay close to the high king, and the king liked to stay close to his dragons’ academy.

The world revolved around the damned dragons.

Dusk was falling, and the enormous trees that lined the drive cast lengthy shadows. The tangle of their branches whispering against each other might have been eerie, but this place was familiar, comfortable.

One of the shadows unfolded, sliding down the tree. I dropped to one knee, caught my knife’s hilt from the top of my boot, and rose again, all in one smooth, fluid motion, without ever taking my eyes off the shadowy figure.

But then I caught a glimpse of strawberry-blonde hair, smug pink lips, and bright green eyes. Hanna, dressed in dark trousers, her face freckled and her hair wild around her narrow face.

“Hey, sis,” I said. “You’re getting stealthier.”

“You wouldn’t have had a chance to knife me.”

“Maybe not.” I walked past her toward the house, muscles aching and strained from the day’s work. The dragon royals might’ve had pretty muscles, but I didn’t think there was much harder work than scrubbing and mopping all day.

But just as I passed her, I reached back, caught her knife hand in mine so I could control the blade, and swept her leg out from underneath her. I twisted the knife away, turning it under my forearm to make sure she wouldn’t cut herself, then stepped back.

She hit the ground with a solid thud, the loudest sound she’d made while she’d been outside, her breath exploding from her chest.

I winced. That always hurt. “I might not have managed to knife you. But I would’ve gotten a second chance.”

She struggled to catch her breath, her words coming out in an indistinct rasp, which was nice because it allowed me to pretend that my adoring little sister wasn’t calling me a bitch-faced bitch.

“Aw, I missed you too!” I offered her my hand up.

She took it, still glowering at me, and let me tow her to her feet. She was as tall as I was now, which seemed a little rude to me.

“I’m just trying to get ready for your crazy boarding school,” she told me.

“Those were some of the best years of my life,” I assured her. “You’re going to have so much fun! Gal pals! Dorm parties! Assassination training!”

“Oh? The best years of your life were when you were away from me and Father?” She didn’t bother to mention my stepmother.

“Come on, Hanna. You know I’d keep you with me forever if I could.” I tucked my arm through hers as we headed toward the big house.

“Then why can’t you? Why can’t we run away and get a house of our own?”

“Because you’re twelve.” I hated that my sister was ten years younger than me, and I couldn’t protect her.

Technically, our stepmother was her guardian, and she refused to hand over Hanna’s guardianship. I’d asked. Many times.

And if Hanna just abandoned her inheritance, our stepmother could petition the king to have my father’s will amended, instead of being required to hold the houses and lands until she came of age.

Hanna huffed a sigh, and I squeezed her arm. “We’ll be able to see each other all the time when you’re at school. Once I’m living at the academy, I’ll be freer than I am now.”

We were almost to the elaborate circle where the carriages turned around in front of the house; there was a fountain in the center, and water bubbled around a marble statue of a young woman who was holding an armful of flowers. Small birds perched on her shoulders. The water was suffused coral-pink with magic, lighting the circle.

Beyond the fountain, the marble stairs to the house led to enormous white-and-gold doors. It really was a beautiful house. It was everything Hanna deserved.

I let go of Hanna’s arm. “I’ve got to put my things in my room, but I’ll see you later.”

She shot me a look as if she could see right through me. “I’ll go through the servant’s entrance with you.”

“It’s just because my clothes are dirty,” I lied.

I hated lying. Well, I hated lying to Hanna. But it was easier than telling the ugly truth, that I wasn’t allowed in the front door, and it was easier to give my stepmother what she wanted.

One day, I’d stop doing things the easy way though, and then everyone should watch out.

She just gave me that look like she saw right through my shit, and the two of us headed around the house together. The servant’s entrance was at the side of the house, hidden between the lavish front yard and the lush grounds and pools. Inside, a long plain wood entryway led to the back stairs or the kitchens ahead; a delicious scent of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted toward us.

“I can’t wait for supper,” I said, starting up the stairs.

We emerged through the narrow wooden door into the long hallway of the center house, where the family lived; guest rooms were in the wings. It was usually hushed here, but then I heard something break down the hall. In my room.

Hanna and I exchanged a look. Then I knelt, grabbed my knife, took off running.