Steeling herself, Jahrra nodded and rose from her seat. She had known Jaax meant to speak with the king tonight, but imagining it and actually doing it were two separate matters. With her nerves threatening to trip her up, she maneuvered her way down the steps of the table using her crutches and came to stand beside Jaax. Dervit gave her a curious glance, but she shook her head, letting him know she and Jaax must do this alone. If he and Ellyesce were needed, they could easily be called forward.
Taking a nervous breath, Jahrra followed after Jaax as he headed toward the front of the room. She felt a little ridiculous swinging on the crutches, but there was nothing for it. At least the line had shortened. Of the few guests remaining, only six or so were queuing up to petition the king.
“If we are lucky,” Jaax murmured, his claws clicking sharply against the polished ice and stone floor, “it will not take half the night to say our piece.”
Jahrra swallowed back the lump in her throat and asked, “Do you really think meeting me in person will sway him? What if he is like Shiroxx and her followers back in Lidien? What if he believes I am a fraud?”
Jaax angled his head to see Jahrra better, a flash of disapproval in his eyes. “We will cross that bridge when we reach it. For now, I simply want to introduce you to his royal highness and take it from there.”
Jahrra nodded vigorously as they came to a stop behind the last person in line. Only four people waited ahead of them now. The others must have had minor complaints the king was able to address right away. As they waited, Jahrra leaned her weight on her crutches and studied the grand hall some more. Outside, the sky was dark and littered with stars. The chandeliers above seemed brighter now, their light illuminating the impressive tapestries adorning the wall behind the dining table. Scenes of aerial battles and the gradual construction of an ice metropolis, Nimbronia no doubt, seemed a common theme.
Jaax took a step forward, and Jahrra glanced ahead once again. Three people in front of them now. She was both eager to meet the royal family and terrified. What if, after speaking with her, Dhuruhn still wasn’t convinced she was the one promised? Or worse, what if she wasn’t impressive enough to convince them to help with the Coalition’s cause? What would happen if these dragons refused to fight beside them when it finally came time for her to meet her fate?
Shuddering, Jahrra rocked forward on her crutches. Only two people in front of them now. An elderly woman and her granddaughter, perhaps, both dressed in the finery of the upper class. Jahrra couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. Something about changing the old woman’s will to include another child. The discussion was quick, the king agreeing to look into the legalities of it all, and then, she and Jaax were standing before the ice dais, the eyes of all the Creecemind dragons upon them.
“Ah, Raejaaxorix,” the king rumbled in his deep voice. “Well-rested from your little ordeal the other day, I see.”
Jahrra couldn’t help but take note of the tone of disdain in the king’s voice. She returned her attention to Jaax, but his gaze was fixed on the Creecemind dragon before him, his emerald eyes as hard as stone and his jaw clenched.
“And dressed in your finest,” Dhuruhn continued, first eyeing his pendant and circlet, then taking a moment to study Jahrra in her elaborate gown.
“I save it only for the most important occasions,” Jaax retorted, baring a smile that was more menace than courtesy.
“I imagine you wish to discuss something with myself and my queen. A subject that has been brought to my attention on numerous occasions previous to this one.”
His lip curled into a ghost of a snarl, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to study Jahrra once more. In response, Jahrra froze, worried that even the tiniest of fidgets on her part might put the king in an even fouler mood.
“Indeed,” Jaax drawled. “Your royal highnesses, I present to you Jahrraneh Drisihn, the human child found by the Resai elves of Crie in the province of Oescienne.”
All Creecemind eyes were on her now, and Jahrra had to fight even harder to remain calm and confident. Her knee ached, and her heart fluttered in her throat. She lifted her chin and took a breath, letting it out slowly as she looked each dragon in the eye. You have the right, a little voice reminded her. You are meant to be their salvation, after all.
“Jahrraneh Drisihn,” the queen murmured, her voice as impressive as her husband’s, but not as deep. “All’s Hope. An ambitious name for one so small. And one who has yet to prove herself.”
The queen’s tone didn’t hold the haughtiness of Dhuruhn’s, but it felt condescending nonetheless. Jahrra’s racing heart faltered slightly in her determination to remain unabashed. Fortunately, Jaax came to her defense.
“She has proven herself to me on many occasions, and she will do so when her fate calls her to act.”
“And you believe that time is now, do you not, Raejaaxorix?”
Jaax’s head snapped back to regard the king. “I do,” he replied. “I will not waste time offering you generous words or groveling before you like a tamed beast. I can only tell you what I know, and what I believe. For several years, I have met with you, keeping you informed of what is happening in the world beyond your borders. When Jahrra was found and brought to Oescienne, you were kept up to date with her progress, and year after year, you held off on making a decision on whether or not to lend your aid when the time came to face the tyrant king. Now, I stand before you, Jahrra stands before you, and we ask for your help in the impending war against Ciarrohn.”
The room grew so quiet, one might hear a pin drop. Somewhere behind her, Jahrra was aware of Tollorias, Sapheramin, Ellyesce and Dervit, standing in the shadows and waiting to hear what Dhuruhn had to say.
“Is that what this little show is all about, then? Trying to sway my opinion so that I might call upon the Creecemind to wage war on a shadow of a threat in the east? Do you think I do not notice the way you press your cause against the edge of my patience?”
Jaax met the king’s harsh gaze with his. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
The Tanaan dragon’s voice was sharp and clipped, slicing through the building tension like a knife.
“Do you not?” Dhuruhn responded. Even though his question was almost whispered, it sent the hair on the back of Jahrra’s neck on end.
“Do you think I have not taken notice of the way you have dressed your young ward tonight? In the royal colors of Oescienne? In a gown befitting a queen and representative of Ethoes herself? Are you to tell me that was not done on purpose? Are you so confident in the idea that this slip of a girl will bring down a god-king, that you are already broadcasting to the world the royal bloodline of our neighboring province to the south will finally return to rule there after this war is over?”
Jahrra didn’t dare look at Jaax, but she didn’t need to in order to gauge his reaction. Simmering anger rolled off him in great, hot waves, and she was tempted to step away from him. To do so, however, would send a message to the king that she either feared him or had no faith in her guardian.
“Jahrra chose her own gown for the banquet,” Jaax all but snarled, “to honor you and your hospitality, not to sway your opinion.”
Dhuruhn snorted. “I don’t believe you.”
Jahrra stepped awkwardly forward then, trying not to get her skirts tangled up in her crutches. The king’s words were starting to grate on her as well, and she would not let him so blatantly accuse Jaax of deception. She’d had enough of that in Lidien.
“He tells you the truth, Your Majesty,” she managed. “I had not seen Jaax since this morning, and he did not see my dress until I met him outside the dining hall a few hours ago.”