She stormed for the opening of the Rok Estate, claws out, teeth bared, the very image of an Oji scorned.
“Where is Finnyr Xin?” she barked to the first Rok servant who had the ill fortune of greeting her.
“Xin’Oji, we were not expecting—”
Petra gouged out his throat. It was risky to spill any blood on the Rok estate, but the smell of one of their own bleeding would send every Rider running. It would draw all eyes to her.
Sure enough, the soft clicking of the beads of a Rider neared, rounding the corner as an apple-skinned woman stopped at the far end of the hall. She sheathed her claws the moment her eyes fell on Petra. The Court was too fresh in every Dragon’s mind for any to be inclined to challenge her, any other than Yveun. Especially not over the death of a no-name slave.
“I demand my brother.” She spoke loudly, for all who were gathering. “I demand Finnyr Xin.”
“Finnyr is a ward of Yveun Dono.” Petra mentally commended the Rider for maintaining a strong and level voice in the face of her rage. “The Dono would need to approve Finnyr’s departure.”
“The Dono can keep him.” Petra snorted. “I merely want to kill him.”
“The Dono would need to approve a duel…”
Petra advanced on the Rider. She could smell the fear in the air around the woman. Her dilated eyes, her barely stable hands. The Rider was ready to fight, but they all knew who would win. It would be a life wasted.
“This is not the Court. This is a House matter. Yes, we are on Lysip, but as I, the Xin’Oji, am demanding a duel with a member of my House, it should fall under my jurisdiction, not the Dono’s.” Petra lorded over the slip of a Dragon. For now, she didn’t actually care if she was given Finnyr. She would kill him someday, and someday soon. But the longer they stalled, the more of an opportunity she had to raise a fuss over the fact and the more time Cvareh had to find Arianna.
“You are quite right.” A new voice stilled the room with its whispering tones.
Petra straightened away from the Rider, looking with curiosity for the source of the sound. A small, frail-looking Dragon had parted the gathering mass of people with her presence alone. Petra had seen the woman before at Courts and a few special functions, but she was as rare as raindrops otherwise. The mere sight of her sent a whole new wave of rage across her skin.
“Coletta’Ryu.” Petra had to think quickly or she’d lose all reason to anger. She didn’t expect the Ryu to greet her. Yveun wasted no time glowering over her at every chance. What did it mean for this woman to be standing in his stead? He was no doubt somewhere delighting at having the butcher of Petra’s people greet her. “Will you see Finnyr fashioned for me?”
“Certainly.” The woman gave a thin-lipped smile, submissive and demure. Petra wondered what the Dono saw in her at all. She was nothing more than a coward. “Please, Xin’Oji, come with me. Lysip is a far ride from Ruana and you must be tired after such tragedy has struck your House.”
Petra’s hands vibrated from the tension her muscles were under as the Rok’Ryu had the boldness to mention her plot against Petra’s home. She wanted to rip the woman limb from limb. But that pursuit of revenge would have to wait. She only had Finnyr’s word to go on, one Yveun would vehemently deny. As the Rok’Oji, his word was law in approving all duels for the members of his House, and he would not see Petra’s claims against Coletta as viable for a duel.
Killing Coletta’Ryu was going to be a much longer game.
“You are too kind.” Petra smiled as wide as she could, her lips curling back, her fangs showing.
“House Rok is quite invested in the future of House Xin. We have been for many years,” Coletta spoke as she led Petra down a long hall. The Riders and half the staff followed them. Petra knew any would say it was to ensure they were waited on hand and foot. But she knew the truth—it was a visual reminder of Rok’s strength. No matter how skilled a fighter Petra was, if she attacked the Rok’Oji, they would show her no quarter. “We would not want to move against your ends.”
Petra responded to lies with lies. “And House Xin is nothing but loyal in no half measures to House Rok for their kindness.”
Coletta smiled falsely in reply. They were both speaking the same language.
“We can wait in here.” Coletta motioned to a lavish parlor that overlooked a private garden. It smelled strongly of the woman and had a lived-in look. Petra bristled at the realization that she’d been led into the asp’s den. “Yeaan, please fetch some appropriate refreshments for the Oji and me. Topann, please see to finding the Oji’s brother. The rest of you, please return to your duties. There is no need to overwhelm the Xin’Oji.”
“Coletta’Ryu, the Riders would like to stand guard,” the woman from earlier insisted.
Petra wracked her mind for how to make sure they did indeed stay. The more people who were around, the fewer could run into Cvareh. But she had no reason to demand an audience.
“I don’t think it necessary. Let us not insult out guest by even implying that she may do something underhanded.” Coletta smiled almost sweetly. “I am perfectly safe with the honorable Xin’Oji.”
Petra wanted to tell her she was anything but. However, there was truth to the words. Petra respected the Dragons’ ways. She would not lower herself to killing a Ryu outside of a pit; she was better than this woman at least in that respect.
“It is the wish of the Rok’Oji,” the Riders insisted.
“Very well, then outside with you so we may relax.”
That seemed to satisfy their wishes, and the Riders assumed their places on the other side of the door. Petra listened closely after it closed for footsteps walking away, but heard none. So her presence tied up the Rok’Ryu and the Riders. It was something, at the very least.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Coletta’Ryu.”
“It’s just us, Petra’Oji, you don’t need to pretend any longer.” The woman tilted her head to the side in amusement. Something about her demeanor shifted. It was like a cat had grown into a lion in mere moments. Where there had been something unassuming before, now stood a menace.
This was the woman who had killed her House in cold-blooded shadows.
“I’m afraid I do not know of what you speak.”
One of Coletta’s servants, Yeaan, returned with a tray. She crossed silently to the center of the room, laying out a small assortment of fruits and cheese with two wine glasses. One vessel was set out for Coletta, the other placed on Petra’s side of the table.
Petra stared at the offending liquid. The woman before her was a monster. Putting in front of her the means she had used to kill her people like a trophy. Petra’s nose scrunched at the scent of the wine.
“What is this?” Petra motioned to the glasses, unable to keep the comment to herself.
“Wine from Ruana. I wanted to make you feel at home.”