Free The Demon King by Cinda Williams Chima

fighting is fierce in the south.”
    Elena squeezed her hand. “Your father was a warrior before he was a trader,” she said. “He knows how to take care of himself.”
    Take me back with you to Demonai, Raisa wanted to say. I’m already tired of being here, displayed like a jewel in an ill-fitting setting. But she only thanked her grandmother and turned away.
    A dozen youngling courtiers had claimed space by the fireplace. Since Raisa’s return, more and more of the nobility were sending their offspring to court, putting them under the nose of the princess heir, hoping to make—if not a marriage—connections that would benefit the family in the future.
    Big-boned, gregarious Wil Mathis overflowed a chair by the hearth. The eighteen-year-old wizard heir to Fortress Rock, an estate along the Firehole River toward Chalk Cliffs, he was easygoing, unambitious, and a bit lazy, and so more charming than most of his kind. He preferred to spend his time hunting, dicing, playing at cards, and chatting up girls, avoiding the realm of politics.
    Next to Wil was Adam Gryphon, who had parked his wheeled chair next to the fireplace. Adam was also heir to a powerful wizard house, but an accident in childhood had left his legs shriveled. He got about by using a wheeled chair or a pair of arm canes.
    Raisa didn’t know Adam very well. He’d been away at school at Oden’s Ford for three years. Even when he was home, he seemed to prefer the company of books. His acid tongue drove off those who might otherwise pity him. His parents must have dragged him back to court for the season.
    Raisa’s cousins Jon and Melissa Hakkam were there, and Raisa’s sister, Mellony, whose royal status gave her standing with the older crowd. The handsome, blond, vacant Klemath brothers, Kip and Keith, were stuffing down cheese, laughing loudly at nothing in particular. Their parents probably had hopes that one of the two would catch Raisa’s eye. They’d been courting her with a clumsy enthusiasm, like a pair of sloppy-tongued golden retrievers.
    “Could I bring you a glass of wine, Your Highness?” Keith asked.
    “I’ll bring you one too,” Kip added, glaring at his brother. They bounded off.
    As if she would marry anyone named Kip.
    Micah leaned against the fireplace, flanked by his twin sister, Fiona, and surrounded by his usual coterie of admiring girls. Melissa and Mellony hung on his every word. Raisa had to admit, he’d cleaned up well—he wore a black silk coat and gray trousers that set off his falcon stoles. His hands were bandaged and he still looked rather pale against his mane of blue-black hair. As Raisa watched, he set an empty wineglass on a table and grabbed a full one from a passing server. Fiona leaned in and murmured something to him. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. He shook his head, scowling, and turned slightly away from her.
    Both wizards, Fiona and Micah were like negative images of each other, each striking. They were the same height and shared the same lean bone structure, angular facial features, and acerbic wit. Fiona’s hair was stark white, down to her eyelashes and eyebrows; even her eyes were a pale blue, like shadow on snow.
    Fiona and Micah quarreled constantly, but cross one and you’d have both to contend with.
    “Weren’t you frightened when you saw the fire?” Missy asked Micah, her blue eyes wide and horrified. “I know I would have turned tail and run right back down the mountain.”
    Raisa struggled to keep from making a face or mimicking Missy’s vapid demeanor.
    A lady keeps critical thoughts to herself.
    “I was frightened,” Mellony put in, blushing. “But Micah came riding right into our midst and told us the fire was coming, that we should make a run for it. He was already burned from trying to put the fire out, but he wasn’t scared at all.”
    Micah seemed uncharacteristically reluctant to talk about his exploits. “Well, good it came out all right in the end. Would anyone else