"Change of plans. We are not going. At least with you wearing that."

I nervously rub my hip. "Does it look that bad?"

"Bad?" he repeats. "You have no clue how bad this looks, woman."

His words hurt me more than I care to admit. I know I'm more muscular than the women around him, but I don't think that makes me ugly. Even if Dramon thinks so, there is no need to be so blunt.

I want to duck my head, but I don't bow to anyone.

Wordlessly, I walk around him to go outside. I'm about to walk out when he takes my wrist.

"Are you insane? Where are you going?"

"What?"

"You cannot go outside like this. I would have to murder half of my Clan!"

He's against me now, chest-to-chest, and gripping handfuls of the silk at my hips.

"You like it?" I blink at him.

"Too much. It has to go or I'll go."

"Go where?"

"To damn prison for committing murder. And even then I don't think the bars will be strong enough to keep me from—"

I pull away to hide my shyness. Damn him, he's doing it again. He's making me feel feminine.

"Stop your foolishness. This won't work. The slit is too high and my knee shows."

"I don't want you to hide it."

"But I do, Dramon. I wouldn't feel comfortable." I cross my arms over my chest, still facing away from him.

"Do you like the rest?" he asks, and I feel a tug on the train of the dress when he touches it.

"Yes, it's beautiful."

"A shame I'll turn it into a rag. Now, take it off. You cannot be seen in it."

"What if I want to fix the high part and wear it? Who are you to say no?"

"A Rider King."

"So? I already achieved that title. It wasn't that hard."

He grunted. "I'm also your husband."

"In title only," I correct.

"Your pussy disagrees."

"You—" I huff and puff like a mad little bird.

"Do not argue with me on this because you will lose. Now, this is what I will wear."

He picks up a slip of cloth. It's black silk and shaped like a very long sock.

"Is that supposed to cover your..."

"Yes," he completes.

"No. Wear something else."

"But—"

"Yes, your butt will be on display. Wear something else and don't argue with me on this because you will not win," I taunt.

I pick up my skirts and take a step deeper into the tent when his arms snare around me.

"You are the most attractive when you try to pull my reins." He drops a heated kiss on my neck. "Pull all you want, my Goddess."

He's the one doing the pulling because my heart feels a tug away from ripping out.

No, Venus. You are a fierce warrior. You've taken down thousands and survived all that life has thrown your way. You can handle one male.

"I'm going to change," I blurt.

He chuckles. "We will leave tonight and return tomorrow."

"Are you sure you want to go?" I sigh.

"We must. It is a formality." He runs a last stroke down my back to touch the silk before leaving.

With curses on lips, I wiggle out of the dress and carefully set it aside. I have bigger things to worry about.

— • —

We fly fast and hard. We ran a little late because Dramon had to deal with a fight between two men. After we spent so much time away from the Clan, things have gotten disturbed.

We notice that Dramon's beast is sluggish— probably because we've been on the move for so long. I can tell this bothers Dramon. He cares for this animal as if it were a child. It's the same way I feel about Treysa.

As a present for the wedded couple, Dramon brings a set of rings he found on a market on the western continent. The bands are gold, but he mounted large, expensive rocks atop them. I've noticed that Dramon doesn't care much about jewelry other than his arm ring. That's another thing we have in common.

Other than that, we only bring the clothes on our back and the unnerving slips of clothes we'll have to wear to the celebration. I can't wait for this to be over with.

All the Rider Kings will be there— Dramon, Zoro, Ulise, and Rexon. I'm not sure how that will go down. Usually when Kings gather, it's to argue and threaten.

As we fly, Dramon keeps his arms around my waist. I'm mindful of the bandages on his wrist and frown whenever I remember they're there. I don't want to see him hurting himself ever again. Not for me, not for anyone.

I get sleepy at one point, so I let myself go and lay my head on his chest. It feels so intimate at first that I hesitate. At these heights, a slip would send me tumbling to my death.

Dramon tightens his hold on me, as if assuring me that he won't let me go, and I ease into him. I sleep for hours, and when I wake up again, he still clings to me.

"Get some rest," I croak.

"I am fine. We arrive soon, anyway." I notice that he's caressing the scaled wing of his beast and holding me with his free hand.

As he promised, we are near The Capital. I can see the walls that protect it, the collapsed and abandoned structures, mounted beasts circling the sky, and the colorful streaks of markets. From what I hear, The Capital used to be run by engines. There were vehicles that soared the skies, tools for medicine and space exploration, weapons of mass destruction, and machines that minimized labor.

All of that is covered in dust now. After The Vanishing, the planet returned to a simpler form of life. Machines were destroyed, schools disintegrated, and the culture shifted toward worshiping women.

I wasn't there to live any of this, but it intrigues me. Often in my travels, I'll find scraps of metal scattered to the wild.

The only thing that has never changed is the Clans. They have been there since the beginning of time.

I snap out of my thoughts when we begin to descend. We're diving for the Palace. It's a strange place— half metal to remind us of our past, and half bricks. It's full of so many secrets and gossip that it has lost respect. Centres is King of the planet, but we are his army. True kings are the ones that ride.

We land right on the entrance, because apparently Dramon thinks he owns the place. There are some startled guests. They're draped in dark, modest robes and bold jewelry. On their hands, they hold long smoking pipes. Their skin is grey, and their multicolor eyes locked on us.

Dramon swings me down and gives me my cane. His hand doesn't leave my waist. We're not dressed for this yet, because the party only happens indoors.

We walk past the enormous silver gates.

"Right this way," an older servant leads. We walk down long corridors. The deeper we get, the more flesh appears.

"Well," Zoro smirks when we cross him. He wears nothing but a transparent slip on his lap. "Look who—"

"Kill yourself already," Dramon interjects while walking past him. I nearly laugh.

A few doors later, the Servant stops. "Your residence," he points and stands politely next to the door.

"We won't stay for long," Dramon warns. "A room is unnecessary." He rolls his shoulders, uncomfortable about being on another man's land and in this unnatural place. I feel the same.

"Whatever time you spend with us is an honor, sire," the servant says.

Dramon holds the door open for me, and I enter. The floor is metal— cold but silent. It's odd. The rest of the suite is enormous. It's fitting for a king with its floor-to-ceiling windows, fluttering gold curtains, roof-hanging bed, and all the decor.

I search for the bathroom, clutching the dress to my chest. I change quickly, and by the time I come out, Dramon is wearing his black loincloth. He looks at his bare feet.

"I am ready."

"Good." He stands but doesn't look at me.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. If I look at you, I will pitch a hole in this damn cloth."

I roll my eyes and go to take his arm. My knee is covered, but I still feel uncomfortable.

There's a knock at the door, and we answer together.

"Winds." Centres stands there with assistants behind him. He's dressed normally, thank the Fires. "I just wanted to greet you both and ask you to not bring down my palace."

Dramon rolls his shoulders as if rebelling against the request. He would tear it all down if the occasion came.

I smile at Centres. "Winds. It has been a long time."

"It has. I will see you two privately later. Please enjoy." He walks off with his people behind him, and I turn to Dramon.

We walk deeper with my dresses's train running behind me, and the sights get wilder— kissing, groping, dancing. Heads turn left and right as people recognize us.

Live music comes from the Great Hall, and I nearly fall when we finally enter.

On two walls, there is a parallel line of couples in various stages of intimacy. Some fuck, others finger, others taste. Rexon is among them. His back is against the wall as a female is on her knees in front of him.

He's staring right at me as he grips the female's hair and takes over the thrusting.

I look away before Dramon notices.

Waters, this is going to be a stressful day.