Eight Simple Rules for Dating a Dragon

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  Silas winced. “I doubt that went well.”

  Karlan gave him a wry look. “That’s putting it mildly. After throwing a few things across the room, the king calmed down a bit. He gave the two men assignments far away from court, and I was ordered to have some soldiers escort them away that night. So it looked like they had disappeared. His Majesty has allowed everyone to believe it, so they’ll keep their mouths shut about the queen.”

  Silas clenched the arms of his chair. “Are the men still alive?”

  Karlan snorted. “I wasn’t ordered to kill them, if that’s what you’re thinking. They’re … resentful, but still alive.”

  Silas heaved a sigh of relief that his brother hadn’t become a murderer. But still, the situation was not good. “So now there are noblemen in the countryside with a grudge against the crown.”

  Karlan nodded. “True.”

  “Are you watching them? They might try to join forces with Lord Morris.”

  Before the captain could answer, the door burst open and Dimitri rushed inside. “I just received word from Aleksi. The priest has left Dreshka and is moving south. Aleksi is following him.”

  “Good.” Silas stood. “We can arrest Romak now.” He helped himself to one of the swords Karlan kept in his office and passed another one to Dimitri.

  Karlan grabbed his sword as he circled his desk. “I’ve been wanting to arrest that weasel for months.”

  As they strode down the hallway, Karlan called several of his guards to accompany them.

  Silas flung open the door and marched inside. Romak and several courtiers jumped to their feet.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Romak demanded. His eyes widened at the sight of more armed soldiers entering his office.

  Silas motioned to the two courtiers who were waiting for an audience with the king. “Out.”

  As they scurried away, Romak eased toward the door.

  “Halt.” Silas pointed his sword at the weasel.

  “There must be some sort of misunderstanding,” Romak said, his voice becoming a shout. “I have been His Majesty’s faithful servant!”

  The door to the king’s office opened, and Petras peered out, his eyes widening with surprise.

  “Your Majesty!” Romak dropped to his knees. “I’ve done nothing wrong, I swear it!”

  “You’re under arrest for espionage against the crown, accepting bribes, and attempted murder,” Silas began.

  “No!” Romak shot the king a pleading look. “Please, Your Majesty, don’t believe—”

  “You have proof?” Petras asked.

  Silas nodded. “He met a spy, a priest from Eberon, whom I believe is connected to Lord Morris.”

  “Speculation!” Romak shouted.

  “You were seen delivering a message to this priest and accepting a purse of gold coins,” Silas said. “And before that you handed Colonel Tolenko a dagger to be used to murder me.”

  “What?” Petras strode into the room.

  “The dagger was coated with poison.” Silas motioned to Dimitri, who lifted his sleeve to show the inflamed area. “If anyone had been pricked by that dagger, they would now be dead.”

  Romak turned pale. “I—I didn’t know about the poison! I didn’t know! I—I’m being framed!”

  “Where did you get the dagger?” Petras demanded.

  “S-someone gave it to me,” Romak insisted. “I didn’t know it was poisoned!”

  “But you still intended it to be used on my brother!” Petras shouted.

  Romak crawled toward the king. “I was doing it for you, Your Majesty. I’m trying to protect you. You can’t trust the general. He wants your crown.”

  “Bullshit,” Silas growled. “You’re a spy. Once we find out who the priest reports to—”

  “I was only doing my job!” Romak cried as he grabbed on to the king’s boot. “I was gathering information for you, my liege. I’ve been risking my life spying for you!”

  “Then why were you accepting gold instead of giving it?” Silas asked.

  “Your Majesty!” a female voice screamed in the hallway.

  The soldiers moved aside to let Lady Olenka enter. She glanced around, her eyes widening at the sight of drawn swords and Romak on the floor, clinging to the king’s leg.

  “Your Majesty!” She curtsied low. “I have dire news. Her Majesty has collapsed! She’s unconscious, and we fear—”

  “Where is she?” Petras pulled his leg away from Romak’s grasp.

  “Her bedchamber,” Olenka replied. “We put her in bed.”

  As Petras hurried out the door, he glanced back at Silas. “Take Romak to the dungeons. We’ll have his trial at the next Summoning.”

  “Your Majesty!” Romak screamed as the king dashed down the hallway.

  When Olenka started to follow him, Silas called out to her. “Lady Olenka, send Gwennore to the queen. She might be able to help.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Olenka dipped into a quick curtsy, then ran after the king.

  “You heard His Majesty.” Karlan motioned to two of his guards. “Take Romak to the dungeons.”

  “This isn’t over!” Romak shouted as he was hauled to his feet. He glared at Silas. “You bastard. You’ll never be king.”

  Silas scoffed. “You’ll never be alive to see it.”

  While the guards dragged him into the hallway, Silas turned to Karlan. “Remove all his jewelry and check his clothing for any hidden jewels or money. I don’t want him trying to bribe any of the guards.”

  Karlan nodded. “Understood.”

  Romak dug in his heels and twisted to look back at Silas. “I can make a deal with you! If you release me, I’ll give you information.”

  Silas gave him a bland look. “Not interested.”

  Romak scoffed. “You don’t want to know who Lady Gwennore’s parents are?”

  Silas’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he merely shrugged, feigning disinterest.

  “Go on,” Karlan ordered, and his guards proceeded to drag Romak down the hallway.

  “I know who Fafnir really is!” Romak screamed as he was hauled out the doorway into the courtyard.

  Silas hissed in a breath.

  “Fafnir?” Dimitri asked. “One of the Ancient Ones?”

  Karlan shook his head. “They all died five hundred years ago.”

  I know who Fafnir really is. Silas narrowed his eyes. That had to mean his suspicions were correct, and Fafnir wasn’t who he claimed to be. Was he a rogue dragon shifter who was tricking Petras? To what end? To steal the crown or destroy the country?

  “Karlan,” Silas said quietly. “I want that information.” And not just about Fafnir. He wanted to be the one to tell Gwen who her parents were.

  “We could rough him up a bit,” Karlan offered.

  Silas shook his head. “Only give him water. Tell Romak if he wants to eat, he’ll have to tell me what he knows.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  As the sun began to set, Gwennore paced about the new workroom. It had been almost an hour since Margosha and Annika had been admitted into the queen’s bedchamber, and there was still no news.

  After her midday meal with Margosha and Annika, Gwennore had spent the afternoon with them making a workroom on the third floor of the western wing, next door to the nursery. With the help of some servants, they had cleaned the empty room and fireplace, polished the long line of westward-facing windows, set up a row of tables, and brought in some chairs.

  Several of the tables were now covered with bowls filled with the water left over from soaking the queen’s belongings. Each bowl was labeled with a description of the item being tested.

  Gwennore had decided to use plants to check the water for poison. She and Annika had rushed down to the garden to gather up lily pads from the ornamental pond. Now each bowl had a lily pad floating on the water, and they were waiting to see if any of the plants shriveled and turned brown.

  They had gone to the garden a second time to collect more verna leaves. Sinc
e the leaves were so good at drawing out poison, Gwennore had theorized that a drink made of them might help cleanse poison from within the body. Annika had agreed, and the two of them had concocted a hot tea spiked with verna and honey. Since Gwennore had been exposed to poison, she’d tested the drink on herself.

  So far, no ill side effects. Her headache was completely gone, and the pink spot on her arm was fading away. Even so, she wasn’t sure if her recovery was due to the verna tea or her own body’s recuperative ability. But since the tea was safe and possibly helpful, she thought it would be a good idea for the queen to drink some every day.

  She glanced over at the hearth where the kettle filled with verna tea was resting close to the fire. Margosha or Annika would have to give it to Her Majesty, for it was now clear that the queen would not accept any help from Gwennore.

  An hour ago, Lady Olenka had burst into the workroom to announce that Her Majesty was deathly ill. Annika had snatched up her leather medicine bag, and then they had dashed to the queen’s bedchamber. The king was already inside, and two soldiers were guarding the door, surrounded by a crowd of gossiping courtiers.

  Since they were official ladies-in-waiting, Margosha and Olenka had automatically been allowed inside. Olenka had quickly informed the queen that General Dravenko had sent the healers Gwennore and Annika to take care of her.

  Waiting outside, Gwennore had heard the queen’s screeching reply. “You can let Annika in, but send that horrible elf away! She’ll try to kill me!”

  Gwennore had flinched inwardly. Thoroughly humiliated, she’d tried not to let it show, but it had been hard to do with all the courtiers glaring at her. While she’d waited for confirmation that the king had barred her from entering, the crowd of courtiers had speculated on her breakup with General Dravenko.

  “Thank the Light he came to his senses and dumped her,” one hissed in an angry voice. “No doubt he was afraid she would murder him in his sleep.”

  Determined not to cry, she’d hurried back to the workroom where she could be alone. After furiously grinding up the rest of the verna leaves, she’d still felt tense, so now she was pacing up and down the length of the room.

  The humiliating experience had only confirmed what she already knew. The people of Norveshka would not accept her.

  Why should I care? a hurt inner voice protested. She was leaving soon. Let them all suffer from the curse.

  She slowed to a stop. Now she was being as petty as they were. She shouldn’t judge an entire population by a few rude nobles. If she could help this country, she should. And if she got rid of the curse, wouldn’t they accept her then? Annika had said they would love her.

  Was it possible to have a future with Silas? Her heart tightened in her chest. How could she not want a future with him? He had a way of looking at her like she was the most beautiful and clever creature on all of Aerthlan.

  When she was with him, she felt so alive. Smart, capable, brave, and happy. No more hiding in shadows; she was free to be herself. She was her best with him. And goddesses help her, she thought he was his best when he was with her.

  How could any other man make her feel this way? She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing he could kiss her one more time, that she could feel herself melting in that fiery moment of passion one more time.

  If she went back to her sisters, she might be safe, but she might never experience passion again.

  So, should she throw herself into the fire? Even if he might be a fire-breathing dragon?

  The door opened and the ladies trudged inside. Annika looked crestfallen, while Margosha’s eyes were glistening with tears.

  Gwennore swallowed hard. “How bad was it?”

  Margosha turned away, wiping a tear from her cheek.

  With a sigh, Annika set her satchel on a table. “I don’t think Her Majesty will be with us for very long.”

  Gwennore winced. “I thought the same thing when I did a reading on her a few days ago.” She’d explained her gift to the ladies that afternoon. “Did you break the news to the king?”

  “I tried,” Margosha said, “but he doesn’t want to believe it. He kept saying she would recover once the curse was gone.” She motioned toward the kettle. “Why don’t we give her some tea every day?”

  “I’d like that,” Gwennore admitted. “But even if the tea cleans some of the poison out of her system, I don’t think it can repair the damage that has already happened to her internal organs.”

  Annika nodded. “I agree.”

  Margosha pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. “So there’s nothing we can do?”

  Annika collapsed in a chair. “From what I could tell, it’s a wonder she’s still alive.”

  When Margosha stifled a sob, Gwennore wrapped an arm around her. “I’m so sorry.”

  The door burst open suddenly and Lady Olenka rushed inside.

  Margosha gasped. “Is it the queen? Has she—”

  “No, she’s the same.” Olenka closed the door. “But have you heard the latest news? Lord Romak has been arrested and taken to the dungeon!”

  “About time,” Annika muttered. “He poisoned Gwennore and Dimitri with that dagger of his.”

  With a worried look aimed at the other women in the room, Olenka edged toward Gwennore. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do—do you still have that little gift I gave you?”

  “You mean the dagger you put under my pillow?”

  With a hiss, Olenka put a finger against her mouth. “You won’t tell anyone I gave it to you, right? You know I would never want anyone to be hurt!”

  Gwennore gave her a wry look. “You asked me to stab the general.”

  “Just the tiniest of pricks!” Olenka protested, waving her hands. “But I’ve changed my mind. Please don’t do anything!”

  “I wasn’t intending to.”

  “Oh, thank the Light.” Olenka struck a dramatic pose, her hand pressed against her brow. “I was so afraid I might be arrested.”

  Gwennore rolled her eyes. “There was never any danger of that.”

  Annika smirked. “Unless you put poison on the dagger.”

  Olenka gasped. “I would never! I wouldn’t even know how!”

  Margosha clucked her tongue. “Why on Aerthlan did you do such a foolish thing?”

  Olenka lowered her head, looking properly chastised. “I wanted to win the wager everyone’s betting on.”

  Margosha snorted. “You’re already receiving free room and board. And beautiful gowns and jewels to wear. Isn’t that enough?”

  Olenka winced. “Two months ago Lord Darnhill asked me to marry him. I was considering it, but then his parents said we couldn’t marry because I didn’t have a large enough dowry. So I thought if I had more money—”

  “Why would you want to marry Darnhill?” Margosha grimaced. “The man is an ass. Everyone calls him Lord Dunghill.”

  While Annika choked back a laugh, Olenka’s bottom lip quivered.

  “Don’t waste any tears over a man who gives up on you that easily.” Gwennore wrapped an arm around Olenka’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “I would say you’re better off without Lord Dung—Darnhill.”

  Annika laughed out loud.

  Olenka shot her an injured look. “It’s not funny. There are only a few eligible bachelors here at court. I don’t have much to choose from.”

  Annika waved a dismissive hand. “Then join the army like I did. You’ll have hundreds of men to choose from. And they won’t be like these limp, pasty-faced men at court. I’m talking strong, handsome, virile young men.”

  Olenka’s eyes widened. “Do they look like Aleksi and Dimitri?”

  Annika stiffened. “Dimitri is mine, but you can have your choice of the others.”

  Olenka’s eyes gleamed for a moment, then she slumped. “My parents would never allow it.”

  “How would they stop you?” Annika scoffed. “Can they defeat an army?”

  Olenka gave her a wary look. “Would I have to fight like
a soldier?”

  “Not if you have a skill like I do,” Annika replied. “I could use an assistant, actually, if you’re willing to learn.”

  “What about my pretty gowns and jewelry?” Olenka smoothed her hands over her silk skirt.

  “What about them?” Annika gave her a pointed look. “Hundreds of strong, handsome, virile young men. And if you want one of them, you can jump his bones.”

  Olenka’s eyes lit up. “I’ll do it!” She turned toward Gwennore. “And I’ll help you. I’m on your side, really. When I heard how the other courtiers were treating you, I wanted to punch them!”

  “You’ll have to get in line,” Annika growled.

  Gwennore smiled. Her circle of friends was growing. As she watched Margosha giving Olenka a hug and then Annika showing her how to salute, her heart squeezed.

  She had wanted to leave in a week to keep from getting hurt. But it was already too late. It would hurt to leave her new friends behind.

  And it would hurt like hell to leave Silas.

  * * *

  The next morning, Gwennore woke to find the sun was already up. She’d overslept, even though she’d gone to bed early. But yesterday had been far too exhausting. She closed her eyes, remembering the troll attack, her near plummet over the waterfall, Puff’s dramatic rescue, and then Silas’s kiss.

  Were they the same? Was Silas actually a dragon?

  She rolled onto her side and rested her hand on the pillow where he had slept. Why don’t you just ask him?

  No. She sat up. She’d asked him before to be honest with her. If he couldn’t do it, then there was no point in seeing him.

  But it was so tiresome having to avoid him. She’d eaten dinner in the workroom last night with her friends. And today she’d probably have all of her meals there.

  She climbed out of bed and rang the bell for Nissa. Then she relieved herself in the privy next to the dressing room. As she filled the tub with water, she heard similar noises from the dressing room next door.

  Silas was there. Had he overslept, too? Was he missing her? She tiptoed over to the door to listen. Yes, he had to be bathing. Or shaving, perhaps.

  “My lady?” Nissa rushed into the dressing room.