The Golden Cage (A Dance of Dragons #0.5) Read online

  Leena sat under the deep water of her private pool, safe in the muffled silence, letting the gentle hum ease away her fears, her worries. Looking up through the glittering shafts of light floating and filtering through the cool blue, the world felt miles away. Anger still clenched her fists, sorrow still gripped her heart, but here under the surface, drenched in sapphire, she could hide away for a little while.

  It had been a long night of pretending, of smiling, of hiding everything she truly wanted to say. After her brother's performance, Leena had done her duties as a princess. Dancing and making conversation, then leaving as early as was politely possible for a princess to do, keeping the tears to herself until she was hidden behind the thick walls of her suite.

  Mikza would find her, he always did. He always came to comfort her, to kiss her. At that moment, she knew he waited outside her doors, guarding the entrance as was expected, waiting until it was dark and the halls were empty before slipping inside.

  But she wanted him now.

  Usually the water was enough of an embrace to calm her rushing pulse. Not tonight. Not when it felt as though someone she loved had died, or worse, disappeared before her very eyes as though he had never existed. Perhaps her brother had always been vicious, like their father. Perhaps she had misled herself, believing he could be different, thinking that someday things might be different.

  But she remembered cradling him in her arms as a baby, the little spittle drooping from his lips while he giggled, the time she taught him to blow kisses, the way he wrapped his tiny fingers around her thumb.

  Leena released the breath she had been holding, watching the air bubbles float before her face and drift higher, disappearing into the glare of the candlelit room up above.

  Water had always been her friend, there for her even before Mikza. Her eternal escape. Her secret hideout. Some might call it magic, but to Leena it was as natural as breathing, sitting in those cool depths for hours without needing to fill her lungs, knowing she would never drown no matter how long she stayed below the surface. As a girl, she thought maybe her mother had gifted her with the powers, letting the pool provide a warm embrace since her nurturing arms had been stolen away.

  Now, Leena did not know what to think. Dreams of her mother seemed childish, but she had no other explanation for the gift. She could not manipulate the water, could not move it, or produce it from thin air. It was more like a close friend. A place she could cry without fear of discovery. A place she could dream and pretend she was somewhere else.

  For tonight, a place she could remember an innocent, beautiful little boy without facing the realities of her world. It wasn't his fault, she tried to remind herself, not really. Haydar was just becoming what he was groomed to be, what he knew, what he was taught. But still, it cut her deeply.

  A shadow fell overhead, interrupting her thoughts and casting a dark circle through the water.

  Leena looked up, smiling, as a memory flashed before her eyes. Two and a half years ago, on the day of her fifteenth birthday, the same thing had happened. Only then, it was met with fear instead of excitement…

  Leena knew it was time to get out of the water. Her maid would be there any second to primp her for the party—for her party. Fifteen. It didn't feel so old, not really, but it was old enough for her father to take notice—to present her to the men of the court.

  She never talked to boys, never spoke with them, and never showed any interest. She was happy in her solitude. In her freedom. Leena did not want anything to change. It was too fast.

  Her hands shook, making bubbles in the pool, a drift of fizz that floated to the top of the surface, a trail of nerves.

  She really should get out. But her limbs felt too heavy to move, so she continued to sit and ruminate, hidden from the world.

  A sound made its way to her ear. A muffled noise she could not make out, something very loud for it to travel all the way down to her, breaking the silence.

  Leena looked up and gasped, accidentally swallowing water.

  A shadow looked down on her, a person, someone she could not recognize through the ripples.

  Frozen. She was frozen in place. No one knew her secret. Not even her sisters.

  Suddenly white blinded her, a splash and then a crash as a body hit the water, breaking it apart, sinking closer.

  Where could she run? There was no place to hide—she was discovered. And now even this secret had been stolen from her.

  Time seemed to stop as the body swam closer, as two brown eyes grew more distinct in the blue, a reassuring face that seemed to tell her it would be okay. Leena did not struggle as the man wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging, pulling her up and up, until her head broke the surface and she took a long gasping breath, shaky with fear.

  Silence trapped her tongue and she did not speak as he lifted her from the water, laid her gently down, and cupped her cheek.

  Words, but she was too distracted to listen. It was not a man but a boy, a boy who had to be hardly older than she, his olive skin tanned and his muscles firm as they held her. She had never been so close to one before.

  "Are you alright, Princess?" He repeated. She didn’t know how many times he said it before she finally found the courage to pay attention. And when she did, the entire situation came barreling forward into realization. She jumped from his embrace, stepping backward on unsteady feet.

  "Who are you? How dare you manhandle a princess of Ourthuro? I demand to know your name."

  He stood abruptly, moving his hands into a fist behind his back, squaring his shoulders and stepping his feet perfectly together.

  "I am Mikzahooq, your new personal guard assigned by King Razzaq, my Princess."

  "Oh," she exclaimed, surprised, interested, trying to ignore the flutter of her heart as he said the word princess. He was older than she had thought but gentler than she expected a soldier to be. "Well, please do not barge into my rooms unannounced again."

  "I won't, my Princess." He paused, squinted at her. "Only, may I ask what you were doing? When you did not respond to my knocks I grew worried that you were hurt. I saw you in the pool, and I feared, well, the worst, my Princess. I only ask so I can better protect you."

  "I…" Leena bit her lip, shuffling uncomfortably on her feet. "I was swimming of course. I dropped a ring and I needed to go find it." She held up her hand, defiantly presenting him with the emerald band circling her finger.

  "Of course, my Princess." He could not hide the smirk on his lips, the knowledge that she was lying, but he did not press. And Leena silently thanked him for that respect, a respect very few ever graced her with—one not out of duty but out of kindness.

  "You may go," she said, covering her giggle as he jumped into action, suddenly realizing that she was in her undergarments and clearly safe from any harm.

  Leena followed him to the door, shutting it gently when he left and falling back against the metal, biting her lip, thinking how fun fifteen might be.

  Leena remembered that night so clearly—it was the night her reputation as a flirt first began. Throughout the ball she danced with every boy, remembering no faces because she pictured each with the same features, Mikza's features, imagining she danced with him, her accidental savior.

  It had taken months for her to break down his walls, to make him talk to her so openly again, but it had been worth it. He was a man of duty and of honor, a soldier with rules to follow, but love was strong enough to weaken those barriers. Eventually, Leena had told him the truth about her magic, which was why he had now learned to wait for her to rise from the waters on her own.

  With one shove of her feet, Leena pushed off from the tile floor, swimming up through the blue until his face became ever more clear. As he had done a hundred times before, Mikza reached both of his palms below the surface, holding her gently and pulling her from the water so she stood in his arms.

  Staring into his deep brown eyes, glittered by the candlelight, Leena finally fe
lt relaxed. Mikza lifted a warm palm to her cheek, using his thumb to brush away the water masking her tears, concerned.

  But Leena did not want to talk about her brother. Not yet.

  "Do you remember the first time we met? How you tried to save me?"

  Mikza grinned, nodding as he slipped his hand to the back of her neck and ran his long fingers through her dripping hair.

  "I remember the seven other times you made me save you, too, before you finally confessed your secret."

  "What secret?" She teased, opening her already large eyes even wider, feigning innocence.

  "That you love having my arms wrapped around you," he whispered.

  "I don't think that was ever a secret."

  Her hands drifted further up his chest until they found his shoulders and pulled him slightly down, just enough to meet her lips.

  Immediately, her heart fluttered as though airborne in her chest, lifting her closer to Mikza, making her arms squeeze him tighter. His touch was soothing, comforting, but still burned a slow fire in her belly—a heat she hoped time would never take away. His kisses were the only thing she feared she might drown in, so she clung to him.

  Mikza's arms wrapped firmer around her waist, lifting her to the ends of her toes. He was tall and lean, but strong and perfectly fit to her body. They molded together like water, with a fluid grace. As he moved, so did she.

  When Mikza pulled his neck back, she tried to follow, but Leena knew that move. He rested his forehead against hers, breath unsteady in the small space between them, leaving an unbearably long inch between their lips, and an even longer pause. She waited for the words she knew would come, the ones she hated for ruining their perfect slice of happiness, but also ones that needed to be said.

  "Leena…"

  She dropped back down so that her heels came to rest on the floor and stepped back, escaping for a few seconds longer. Mikza watched, waited, but Leena kept moving, running.

  Walking past her private pool, she stepped into the night air, onto the balcony outside her bedroom. It was cool, prickling her moist skin and bringing an instant chill to her body. But the cityscape below provided the distraction she needed, the one she searched for.

  Da'astiku. The capital city of their island kingdom, Ourthuro. The golden palace belonging to her father sat at the top of the mountainous city, and each level below degraded slowly down in class, from the glimmering silver coated plateau of the nobles to the bronze plateau of the merchants, all the way down through iron and rock until one reached the sea.

  Many loved the beauty of Da'astiku during the day, the way the sunlight bounced from metal roof to metal roof, but Leena found those glares too harsh, too blinding. The moonlight was more beautiful, it made the jagged rock look gentle, the ferocious waters look calm. Even the roofs sparkled, not enough to make her wince, just enough to glisten like diamonds, mirroring the shimmering surface of the water.

  Ourthuro was a hard place. The islands were steep with cliffs, with edges that cut. The rock they lived on was relentless, filled with metal ores that made their people rich in coins and jewels but left room for little else. Their land could not grow food, could not nurture plant life. The hunger and the heat had made their citizens tough. But in the night, under a bed of stars, Leena could sometimes forget that her home was an unforgiving place. Under this silky sapphire, she thought maybe there was room for love.

  Mikza stepped beside her, dropping his arm over her shoulder and pulling her in close. Heat billowed from his skin, warming her, melting away the harsh exterior of an Ourthuri princess until she was just a girl, hurt and lost. Leena relaxed into his embrace, bringing her arms around his waist, using his sturdiness as her strength.

  "He is just a boy," she whispered.

  "I know." His deep voice was soft and soothing.

  "I don't think I can do this anymore," she said slowly, hardly believing herself. But it was the truth.

  Mikza's heart paused. She felt the beat stop in her ear, heard the shock in his chest. "Are you…?"

  He drifted off, letting the breeze speak for him. But Leena understood. They had spoken about this many times before, always with her ending the conversation, saying she could not abandon her little brother, could not leave him to this fate.

  But time had worked against her. He was already beyond her reach.

  "I want to leave." Leena arched her neck up, resting her chin on his chest so she could see into his eyes.

  "When?" He asked.

  "As soon as possible. In little more than a week, Fayrih will be wed and then my father will turn to me, his next youngest daughter. We've both known for a while that my time is running out. I'll be matched soon, and once that happens, there will be no escape for us."

  Mikza brought his hands to her cheeks, cupping Leena's face. His deep brown eyes bored into hers. They always grew darker when his passions were high. Now, they seemed almost black.

  "Are you sure you want this? A life on the run?"

  His gaze explored her face, searching for the truth. Leena slipped her hands from his back, bringing them over his, holding him, squeezing just slightly, emphasizing her truth.

  "I love you, Mikza. I could never want a life that did not have you in it, and so we will run if that is the only option we have."

  "I will have nothing to offer you. I will be disgraced. There will be no fancy clothes or luxurious baths or servants to help us."

  "I don't care," Leena urged. "The way we feel is richer than this golden palace to me."

  A war raged in his mind. Leena could see it. His entire life was about saving hers—always a soldier, always looking to protect her, always putting her needs before his own. In a way, it made her love him more. But in another way, she worried it was the one thing that would ruin them.

  If he thought she would be happier married to a noble lord, living in Da'astiku for the rest of her life, raising a herd of children her father would turn cruel before her eyes—if he really thought that fate would be better for her, he would do it. He would sacrifice. But Leena would not let him decide for her.

  "Mikza," she sighed, "please trust me. If I stay here any longer, I will die. Perhaps not my body, but my soul. I can already feel it slipping away, hardening. That is what this place does to people, that is what my father does. We must fight it. I need you to help me fight."

  He dipped his head, gently pressing his lips against hers, holding onto the moment. This time, Leena was the one who pulled back, who implored, who forced him to speak.

  "My Princess," he sighed, lips lifting ever so slightly. Leena's heart followed with them. "Such a handful. Yes, let's do the impossible. Let's defy the king. Let's find our sliver of forever."

  Before he finished speaking, Leena had jumped into his chest, trusting him to catch her. Burying her head in his neck, she smiled, wider than she ever had before, happier in that moment than any time she had ever known—as though her heart would burst, unable to contain the mounting joy.

  Mikza caught her, held her high, and laughed carefree with her, mad with love. He spun her around, letting the water on her dress fly off into the night air, spatter around the room, each droplet a little beat in their song.

  We'll do it. We'll escape.

  Leena had faith. Love was the only thing her father did not understand, so she had to believe it was the only thing he would not suspect. Love, after all, was not the Ourthuri way.

  But it was her way.

  Their way.

  Their freedom.

  Three