Sabine

I reached for my fork, despite my plate being empty. How was I supposed to answer the prince's question? I just told him, foolishly, that I sabotaged an order from my former master.

My eyes shifted side to side and my heart rate ticked up. It felt like there was something more to his question. He knew I had magic but if he was asking what I could do to be useful, it wasn't my magic he was interested in.

I flicked my eyes toward the corner where I hid while the prince dismissed his concubine. It was no secret that he had one concubine at a time until he got bored. He had me clean up, dress nicely, and eat well.

If the War Dragon wanted me to be his next concubine, I was not in a position to refuse.

Instinctively, I touched the collar on my neck, running my fingertips along the cool metal.

The prince scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. You're a bag of skin and bones."

I bowed my head. His insult unexpectedly stung. I'd been in so few positions to receive compliments in my life, especially on my physical appearance.

"My former master prized me for my magical abilities."

"Yes, and you purposefully went against your former master to thwart a spell. How is that going to be useful to me?"

I swallowed hard. He was right. What use was a magical slave that spoiled spells?

"I would not make the same mistake under your supervision."

He narrowed his eyes at me. The way he kept looking at me it felt like he was trying to figure me out. He was trying to read my thoughts and to get into my head. Unfortunately, I doubted he'd find anything of interest in there.

"No, you wouldn't," Prince Cole hissed between his teeth. "Tell me more about your magical accomplishments."

My shoulders relaxed and I leaned back in the chair. That seemed like a harmless conversation.

"I discovered my magic when I was five years old. My mother..." I paused and looked at my lap. "I was younger than most when I found my magic. She trained me for a few years."

"She was a free mage?"

I nodded. "When she passed away, I was still young and vulnerable. It wasn't long before..." I touched the collar on my neck again.

I hadn't spoken of my mother since the last day I'd seen her alive. No one ever asked me about my past and there was never a reason to bring her up.

"Your former master had other magical slaves. Why keep a child?"

"I fought back. I think he thought he could use that to his advantage."

"You fought back?" A small frown touched the prince's lips.

"With magic."

His frown deepened even more.

I recognized the look in his eyes. It was disappointment. He didn't give me that look when I told him I defied my former master. Somehow, the rest of the story disappointed him more.

"You're proficient in offensive magic, battle magic, then?"

"My mother taught me some, along with defensive magic. I was my former master's bodyguard above all else."

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"Then you must be rather powerful."

I shrugged. "I can't say one way or the other, Your Majesty. I've never met any free mages besides my mother."

The prince nodded and fell silent again. Something had changed in him. He didn't seem curious about me anymore and there was a dark shadow in his eyes.

"The palace is full of very talented, accomplished mages. I can get whatever I want or need from them, magically speaking."

"Of course, Your Majesty." I nodded and twirled a tendril of hair around my finger, eyes fixed on my empty plate.

"As you may know, being bonded to a dragon gives me my own elemental magic," he continued.

I bit my tongue to hold back my retort. Everyone knew that dragons passed some of their magic to anyone bonded with them but their power was not nearly as strong as a trueborn mage. At least, that's what my mother always told me and that's why the palace had royal mages to begin with.

I wasn't about to challenge the War Dragon.

"I understand, Your Majesty."

"I'd like to know then; what you think you have to offer with your magic that I cannot readily get with the resources at my fingertips?"

I worried my hands in my lap. What more could he want from me? I didn't have the training to serve a Prince. If he didn't want me for my magic, what was I doing here?

"Well?"

I winced. The harshness of his voice was like a slap to the face.

"My apologies, Sire. I was trained in the service of magic. I was never taught etiquette or hospitality services. If you do not want me for my magic, then I'm afraid you made yourself a bad deal."

I glanced up quickly and noticed that he had another strange look on his face. It looked like he didn't believe me.

"A bad deal, huh?"

He sighed heavily and I watched from under my brow as he leaned back in his chair and stretched. His muscles bulged at the seams of his clothing. He looked relaxed, casual. His nimble fingers popped a button on his overcoat. It spilled open around him.

I noticed how smooth and elegant his hands were. Hands that had killed thousands on the battlefields and they looked almost gentle in their elegance.

"I'm sure you have some qualities that would be useful. Though if you're insistent that magic is all you have to offer, show me something. If you impress me, I could be swayed."

I hooked my forefinger through the collar at my throat. "I'm unable to cast magic with this collar. Only when my master speaks the magical word can I access my magic."

My words caught in my throat and I struggled to get through my explanation. The heavy collar around my neck was a constant reminder that I was only half of myself. Without being able to feel my magic I felt lifeless, incomplete.

Only when my former master spoke the word did I feel alive, until it wore off and the collar restricted me again. It was like constantly having a word on the tip of my tongue or the feeling of waking up and trying to remember a dream but the more I try, the harder it is to remember the details.

It was there but it was always just out of my grasp.

"What's the magic word?" the prince asked.

"I am not permitted to speak it."

"I give you permission."

I shook my head. "Your Highness, I can't speak it. I've heard the word but the collar prevents me from understanding it. If I tried to speak it, some other word would come out."

Prince Cole scoffed. He groaned and I lifted my eyes to see him throw his head back on his neck.

"A bad deal indeed."

My stomach twisted and my heart sank. Pleasing the War Dragon was the only thing keeping me from getting sent back to my former master. He would not think twice to sell me off to the first taker at this point.

At least, with the prince, I knew I would be spared the degradation of many women slaves beholden to men. It was a small relief.

"Do you think you could handle the simple task of being my personal attendant?" His voice came out as a condescending growl.

"If I knew what was required of me, then I could learn."

"Well, that's something. As my personal attendant, the most important thing for you to do is anticipate my needs. You'll take care of my quarters and attend to my personal requests. Is that doable?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." I nodded.

"Good. Come with me. I'll show you to your quarters."

I stood and followed him across the parlor. The prince didn't bring me to the parlor door. He brought me to a closed door I assumed to be a closet.

Behind the closed door was an adjoining room.

"You'll have your own private bedroom, den, and bathroom." He nodded down the adjoining passageway.

"Private?" I squeaked, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat. "Adjoined to your suites?"

The prince smirked, a smile suggesting that I was some kind of meal. "Of course. How else will you be able to attend me whenever I need?"

My stomach twisted and I looked away from his flecked, searching eyes. His looks unsettled me, right down to the bones. Maybe I wasn't safe from his masculine needs.

Heat flared across my cheeks and hurried through the door. Why was I blushing?

"I'll call on you when I need. Otherwise, you'll care for my quarters."

I heard the adjoining door close, my stomach churning uneasily. The fearsome War Dragon lived less than ten paces from my new bedroom. I'd be naive to think my only purpose here was as his personal attendant. He didn't even want one.

What did he really want from me?