House of Dragons (Royal Houses #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,31

frightened as Sonali strode up the steps of the stage. She gently withdrew a sapphire ring from her own finger and slid it onto Darby’s. The house ring of Stoirm. Gods.

“Come,” Sonali said gently, and Darby followed her off the stage and into the crowd below.

And so, the ceremony continued. Twenty-three of the House of Dragons’ best. Kerrigan knew every one of the people selected and cheered for them as they were chosen and moved on. Lyam went to Kenris in Zavala in the north. A peach Zavalan cloth square was placed into the pocket of his suit. He looked positively radiant. His eyes darted back to Kerrigan once before continuing through the crowd. Ayesha to Genoa. Hainfroy to Venatrix. Elenee to Concha. And on and on.

Until it reached Hadrian, who had gone positively green in the face.

“Hadrian,” Moran said.

He stepped forward, and Moran spoke all about his intelligence and studiousness. Kerrigan knew that he had been courting Javel with Sayair in the north. They had one of the greatest libraries outside of Draco Mountain. It was Hadrian’s dream to become a scholar.

But when Javel stepped forward… another person stepped forward too.

Fallon of Galanthea.

Kerrigan’s eyes widened in shock. This didn’t happen. The negotiations were usually complete before the ceremony to prevent this. And to have Galanthea, a war tribe, requesting Hadrian. It was unthinkable. What could they even offer?

Of course, Kerrigan knew that Fallon was different. He’d been part of the last dragon tournament, but he hadn’t won. He was attempting to change the make-up of Galanthea. But still… Hadrian?

“I have chosen Hadrian,” Javel said quickly, glaring at Fallon.

“I have also chosen Hadrian,” Fallon added. His voice was smooth and confident. Gone was the terrified boy who had entered the tournament five years earlier.

“This is quite unusual,” Moran said diplomatically. She looked to Hadrian with a raised eyebrow. As if to say, Your choice.

No wonder Hadrian had looked sick. He must have known this was going to happen.

“I…” Hadrian said, looking between the two men who would claim him. “I choose…” He stumbled backward a step and then said everything in a rush, “I choose Fallon.”

Moran laughed softly. “Fallon of Galanthea, step forward, please.”

Fallon put his hand on Javel’s shoulder and nodded at him once. An unspoken truce between them for the slight. Then, he came to stand before Hadrian. They were nearly eye-level. Fallon standing only an inch taller. He retrieved a gold torc from his suit pocket, and with the tenderness of a lover, he wrapped the gold Galanthean collar around Hadrian’s throat. His throat bobbed, and then he followed Fallon offstage.

The next three candidates went without fanfare. And then it was Kerrigan’s turn. She was the last one onstage. Everyone was staring at her messy red hair and slightly scandalous pink dress as she stepped evenly, carefully on her new high heels to Moran.

Even though she and Moran had had their ups and downs throughout the years, she gave her an encouraging smile. Kerrigan nodded at her once and then turned to face the crowd.

“Kerrigan is spunky and spontaneous. She loves weapons training and reading. She is fiercely loyal and fiercely competitive. Who here has chosen Kerrigan?”

Her heart raced as her eyes scanned the crowd for Ellerby. He’d been standing off to the right when it all started. But as the ceremony had gone on and worry crept through her, she’d lost him to her blurry vision and fear.

Now… she couldn’t find him.

He… he wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there at all.

11

The Offer

No one came forward.

Kerrigan’s hands were sweating at her sides. Her throat felt like she’d stuffed cotton balls down it. Her body was frozen in place.

And then she heard it. Laughter. People in the crowd were laughing at her.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as shame and humiliation followed sharply. Like pinpricks turning to knife wounds. She didn’t want to cry. No, she couldn’t cry. Not here. Not before these people.

Her ears were ringing. This couldn’t be right. What had happened? Why would Ellerby have left?

“Now, now,” Moran admonished the crowd.

But Kerrigan was still standing there. She was still looking out at the sea of faces. And no one stepped forward. No one claimed her.

One word cut through the crowd—half-Fae.

Half-Fae.

Was that the reason this was happening? Had someone decided that half-Fae shouldn’t enter a tribe? Did Ellerby think that? He’d never made it seem that way in the past. He’d always been perfectly fine with her short ears and not even cared about magic. Everything