Rise of the Dragon Queen

by Sherri Beth Mitchell

  The woman had tears running down her rouge cheeks. But she believed every word Silvia had yelled at her. Turning to the man on the ground beside her she said, “I am sorry I have shamed you and hurt you for my own appearances.”

  The man nodded his half-bald head, but from the look on his face that was all he was able to do in his pain and shock.

  “Now go,” Silvia said to the woman. “And do not ever let this happen again.”

  “M-may I have back my cane?” the woman pleaded.

  “No, and that is the price you will pay this time,” Silvia warned. “Beware of how you treat others.”

  The woman got to her feet and started to hobble off, but she turned to Silvia and said, “Thinking on it, it is only fair what you have done. Give my cane to this man as a payment for what I have done to him. Thank you for giving me a straightening out.”

  As she walked off Silvia helped the man to his feet. “Do you have somewhere to rest?” she asked. Her heart went out to him for his hardships. It was obvious that he was without a home…or a good bath.

  He shook his head. “No madam, just alleys and stables.”

  “Come with me then.” She led him through the crowd that had silently been watching them, and into the Home Away From Home. Once inside she summoned the innkeeper and inquired how much food and shelter the cane would buy the pauper. It was made of fine cherry wood and had rivulets of gold running down the length of it. The top was a knob of gnarled wood and gold. It was nearly four feet long and weighed well.

  The innkeeper, John, lit up when he looked upon it. “That is a very fine piece of work,” he told her. “I would trade a month’s worth of food and shelter for it.”

  “Excellent,” Silvia said. “Would you please get this gentleman a room, a hot bath, and a shaving knife? And let him eat in his room tonight—he needs the rest.” She turned about to look at the half-bald man. “What is your name, sir?”

  “Derik, milady,” he replied in awe. He wrung his hands nervously and seemed to have trouble looking into her face.

  Speaking to John once more, she said, “Do you have any kind of work that Derik could do to earn money?”

  “A job?” said the innkeeper, who thought for a moment. “Yes, actually I had a cook who just ran off with a young maid and I have no one to fill his place.” Peering around Silvia, he looked at Derik. “Would you be interested?”

  “Yes,” said Derik eagerly. “I am afraid I don’t know much about cooking, but I am a fast learner, my lord.”

  “Very well then,” said John, not believing his good fortune. He beckoned a servant over and began to distribute orders about the room. The crowd quickly dispersed, and Silvia was left alone with the once-homeless man.

  “Madam?” said Derik.

  “Yes?”

  “I am overwhelmed by your fairness and generosity.” His eyes finally met hers. “If there is anything I can ever do for you, please tell me, for you have turned around my life on this night.”

  “Thank you.” Just then she noticed Keelan walking towards them with something in his hand.

  “Sir,” he addressed Derik, “take this money and buy some clothes and shoes to wear. You look like you need them more than I.” He dropped a small money purse into the man’s hand.

  Derik’s eyes teared up. “I swear—anything I can ever do for either of you, let me know. I am forever at your service! May the Parent Gods bless your souls!”

  That night Silvia packed the rest of her things in her trunk and undressed. She was exhausted and fell asleep right away. She dreamed of swimming in a lake without making a ripple.

  The next morning it seemed that everyone was too restless and worried to sleep late. All were up and about just before dawn, dressed and ready to depart. The cart was readied and when the cart from the palace arrived they loaded up and left, hardly saying a word. The trip through the winding streets of the grand city up to the large palace was a silent one.

  Everything was exactly as Silvia requested. The rooms were large and there were three of them. They were in the back corner of the palace and were on the third floor. The main windows of Silvia’s room let out onto a nice little balcony. The walls were richly decorated with tapestries and paintings that she found very tasteful. The stone floor was covered in silk rugs and soft animal skins. There was a long green velvet couch, with three matching chairs near the brazier, and several different sized tables placed in various parts of the room for convenience. A large wardrobe occupied a whole corner of the room, its massive chestnut doors waiting to be opened. A tall bookshelf boasted a hundred different titles.

  The room’s shape was odd, as it was placed at the corner of the palace. Also, there were stone walls surrounding the bed, which was tucked away in one large corner of the room; no doubt the walls blocked outside sounds from the sleeper. On one side of the wall there was a little path to the doorway leading to the bed; on the other side of the wall was a private bath and chamber pot. Silvia took a lit candle down the little path and turned right to go into the doorway to the bed...and gasped.

  The bed looked just like the one Keelan had carried her to in her dream the other night, except for the ceiling-high stone walls around it. As she stepped inside the doorway, something brushed her shoulder. Lifting the candle, she saw a stout wooden rod, nearly three inches in thick, stretching across the open doorway several feet above her head. Each end was tucked neatly inside the stone as if it had been made that way. A thick curtain hung down from the wooden rod, intended to shut out any light. The bed itself took up every bit of the room, end to end, except for the tiny open strip Silvia stood in. The only reason the bare space was there was because a table had been crammed into one corner. A torch hung just inside the doorway, unlit for the time being. The bed was made of four or five thin, feather-stuffed mattresses, three down-stuffed comforters, and layers and layers of silk and satin sheets. Pillows were in abundance: there were eight of varying sizes placed about the bed. The size of the bed was lovely, being eight feet long and nearly as wide, and big enough to lay any which way you wished to.

  Keelan ran past her leg and a flying leap later was nestled on the bed. Silvia smiled and went to go put her things away.

  When she opened her wardrobe, she found she was looking at herself by way of an elegantly framed oval mirror set in the right-hand door. She hung all of her dresses and nightgowns and placed her shoes and such in the floor of the wardrobe.

  Just as she was finishing, a knock sounded at the door. When it opened, Borys stuck his head in and said, “Lady Serena, lunch is ready to be served.”

  Silvia let Keelan’s fox form lead the way to the banquet hall, followed by an invisible Quentin. But when they arrived, the giant room was empty except for a servant shining the candelabra. The servant was more than happy to give her easy directions to the King’s private orchard in a courtyard nearby within the palace walls. A long table had been set up beneath the boughs of the trees, providing a pleasant shade.

  Gregorich, Prince Dalton, and Sir Grant rose until she was seated. A stool with pillows was placed beside her, which Keelan gladly jumped on top of. She had found a way this morning to fix her nuuisaket herself so that she could eat unhindered without the help of a servant and was glad of this as her stomach started to rumble.

  “I am excited and pleased that you are here, Lady Serena,” Gregorich said. He dabbed a corner of his mouth delicately with a tablecloth, watching her.

  “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  “Are your rooms suitable enough?”

  “Yes. It was kind of you to prepare them so quickly and efficiently.”

  “It was nothing, I assure you,” he said grandly, waving a well-manicured hand in the air.

  A decanter was sitting in the middle of the table, filled with a dark green substance. Silvia wondered what it was and poured a dollop into one of the small crystal glasses beside it. She ignored the amused looks that the men gave her and swallowed the drink in two small gulps. Its taste w
as sweet and thick, and it felt like molasses going down her throat in short waves.

  “Do you like it?” asked Dalton.

  Silvia smacked her lips, and then felt foolish for doing so. “I am not sure. What is it, may I ask?”

  “Ah, it is called sarchum. It is a mixture of several different plants, as well as green-bee honey, which gives it the color it has,” he said.

  She looked down into the crystal cup before her. “What are all the tiny red spots?” she asked. She was beginning to feel a bit funny and wasn’t sure why.

  The prince smiled, his teeth flashing brilliantly. “That, my dear, is the ground-up deridam.”

  At this, Keelan’s voice rang out in her mind, telling her to drink no more of it.

  “Oh,” she said weakly. She remembered the admonishments Maura had donned upon Keelan the other day. And to think she had just waltzed outside, grabbed a glass, and poured herself a big splotch of it! Oh, what an idiot she was!

  “Your face turns a lovely hue under that veil when you’re flushed,” Hapshamin said. “Oh, I had forgotten! I told you I would send a letter by eagle to your parents to inform them of your stay. I had better do that today.”

  “Do not worry on that matter,” Silvia said quickly. “I will take up that responsibility, as I have an acquaintance to go and see today.”

  “Really?” mused Gregorich, his interest peaked. He watched two servants carry lunch out on trays. Everyone received a small salad, bread rolls, white wine, and water, and a small guinea. Keelan was also served a plate and all began eating. Gregorich mixed oils into his salad and looked over at Silvia. “Pray tell us—is it a male acquaintance?”

  Silvia swallowed hard. “Um, yes, Your Majesty.” She did not have the presence of mind to say that it was an old man she was going to visit.

  “Oh, well then better take an escort so you won’t be accused of adultery.”

  She took a mouthful of salad and chewed slowly, collecting her thoughts. Hadn’t Keelan or Quentin warned her about this? “I always take someone with me anytime I travel somewhere, as it is proper. However, since I am not married, it would not be a crime to ride by myself. I used to do it all the time.”

  The prince’s head lifted from his food as though someone had poked him in the back with a sharp stick. “Are you betrothed?”

  “No.” She was beginning to regret joining this luncheon.

  Sir Grant rolled his eyes. “You should have said ‘yes’ to that Lady Serena, for now you have two men who will court you until you give in. I would myself, if I weren’t already married.”

  Three, Keelan thought to himself as he gauged her reaction. She appeared very embarrassed and her hands shook.

  “Do you care at all for horse-riding?” asked Dalton nonchalantly. “You said you ride by yourself?”

  “Let the games begin,” Sir Grant muttered under his breath.

  “Most horses are agreeable enough, and I do like them. As for riding, I have been doing so since I can remember.”

  “Have you had many a spill then?” Dalton inquired.

  “Yes,” replied Silvia, “many. But my worst one happened just under a month ago.”

  “What happened?”

  Silvia cleared her throat. “I went riding on my favorite horse in a wood I was not familiar with. It started to rain and thunder before we managed to get halfway through the wood. Something spooked my horse and I was thrown off. When I regained my feet, my horse knocked me down again with his shoulder. I don’t remember much of what happened after that, just that a kind stranger came to my rescue and returned me to my home safely.”

  “And what of the stranger?” the King said. There was a dark undertone that she did not fail to miss.

  “I do not know and no one else seems to have seen him.”

  “Were you hurt badly?” Sir Grant asked politely.

  “A bump to the head and some bruises were all. But my mother insisted I stay bedridden for a fortnight in case I had hit my head harder than they thought.”

  “You must have,” said Gregorich lightly, “for if this happened nearly a month ago, you wouldn’t be here; it takes almost three weeks to get here from Alwak.”

  Chapter Four—Romance and the Jobs Ahead

  Silvia’s breath caught in her throat; her heart turned to ice and she froze, staring at her plate. I am such a fool, she thought. I have just messed everything up! By the gods, I’m done for!

  But before she could work up the nerve to speak in her defense, Dalton said, “Well, she probably lost all concept of time when she bumped her head. It may seem like it was only a month ago, but for all we know it might have been a year ago!”

  The men chuckled at this, and Silvia produced a wan smile. They continued eating, but she noticed Prince Dalton and Sir Grant eyeing her surreptitiously. After lunch she excused herself as quickly and politely as she could. Forcing herself to walk slowly and act calm, she made her way to her room, her mind racing in circles. She didn’t see Keelan slink inside before she slammed the oak door behind her, locking it. Then she ran to the bed, kicking off her shoes, drawing the massive curtain behind her, and flung herself to the soft comforts of the sheets and pillows. She flailed her fists into a pillow.

  “How can I have been so dull-witted?” she cried out in dismay. “I’m as good as caught if I keep slipping up. If this happens again I might as well concoct a poison to drink, for Gregorich’s Guards will be coming soon to hang me.” She lay for a few moments, contemplating on what would happen if she were to blunder in a lie again. “What a fool I am to have come at all. What if everyone has started upon a path to the gallows by staying with me? I do not wish them dead.”

  “I don’t believe I’m dead, but then again, one can never be too sure,” said a voice.

  Silvia sat up, peering into the darkness around her. “Keelan?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  “None other, milady.”

  She heard him moving towards her on the bed. When his hand touched her arm she jumped, then threw herself into his arms, beginning to cry. She felt his hands unpin her veil and hood and remove them to stroke her hair.

  “Everything is okay,” he told her gently. “You made a mistake, and I’d say the deridam helped you out with that. The stuff usually lowers your defenses and relaxes one a little too much. The King isn’t going to send his Guards after you. He doesn’t know who you are or the real reason why you are here.” He held her close with his right arm and continued stroking her long red hair with his left. “And if the King ever sent minions after you, I would fight them to the death before they laid hands on your person. Besides,” he added with a dark chuckle, “you have drawn his interest…and mine as well.”

  These last words were said with such emotion, such passion, that Silvia stopped crying. Her hand found the strong curve of his face and held it, trying to steady herself against the flow of something unreal that seemed to be passing between them.

  “My lady, my sweet Silvia,” Keelan whispered, “may I kiss your lips?”

  “Yes,” she answered, lifting her face to his.

  The kiss was sweeter than the sweetest of fruits. His lips were gentle and firm and Silvia found her own opening in response. His tongue slid into her mouth, probing deeply and slowly. His hands pressed her hard against his muscular chest. Her heart was fluttering like a butterfly trapped in a minuscule cage. Heat spread through her breasts and groin, the result being erect nipples and a yearning to be underneath Keelan in the most carnal of ways. She moaned loudly, and thought she heard him make a sound like a whimper, which made her want more. Grabbing his head between her hands she pulled until he was lying on top of her. They sank into the sheets, breathing heavily. Keelan let his hands travel down her body, so aroused by her moaning that he nearly couldn’t restrain himself. His groin rubbed against hers, and Silvia could feel his straining anatomy pressing against her. She drew up one of her legs and curled her foot around the back of his thigh. His hand found her foot and began sliding h
er dress up quickly. When it found her rump, he scooped it up and rubbed her harder with his body. He watched with unconcealed desire as her back arched and her moans grew louder. He stifled them with his mouth, playing with her tongue, and sucking on her bottom lip. The hand that clutched her beneath the dress became clammy and he realized that she was burning up with desire.

  As her hands clawed at his shirt, he grasped them and kissed them tenderly. Trying to keep control of himself, he said, “There is something I must ask you.”