Dragon's Heart

by Michelle Rabe

  “Such is the way of royalty, my son.” She paused, waiting for some response. When none came, she continued, “It is how our ancestors have married for more generations than any of us can count.”

  “My wife wanted more for our son.”

  “Your wife was willing to sign a contract for Killian’s marriage with that girl’s parents before he was old enough to talk.”

  “Because you ordered it, Mother. She was not happy with the situation. You know she insisted we wait until Killian was of age and agreed before the contract was finalized.”

  “And look where that has gotten us? The boy is besotted with a girl who can do nothing for the royal family or the country. He is better off without her. This discussion is over. Tell Captain Donnavon I wish to speak with him.”

  “As you wish, your Majesty.” Mathias stood and bowed to his queen before he turned and left the room.

  Anastasia crossed back to her desk and used the armrests for support as she lowered herself into the seat. She bit back a groan of pain, her joints protesting the weight and movement. As soon as her body settled, she let out a deep sigh when she heard a light tapping on the door.

  “Come,” she called out, her voice commanding.

  The door opened, and Donnavon stepped into the room. He offered a sharp bow before closing the door and striding over where she sat.

  “Your Majesty, you summoned me?” He offered a second, deeper, more proper bow.

  “I did. We need to discuss the situation with Lady Serena Harlowe.”

  “I can assure your Majesty the guard will be making every effort to see she is found and returned, safe and whole.”

  “Captain, that is where you are wrong. I do not want the guard to put any special effort into finding Lieutenant Harlowe.” A slight smile lifted Anastasia’s lips.

  “I…” Donnavon stammered. “I… I’m afraid I did not hear you correctly, Majesty.”

  “I believe you heard me, Captain, quite clearly. You heard me order you to perform a minimal search for Lieutenant Harlowe.”

  “Forgive me, Highness, but Lady Harlowe was a Royal Guard trainee and has friends among the guard. Friends who may not take kindly to an incomplete search.” Donnavon frowned, his mind turning over the orders the queen had given him, searching for the best way to carry them out.

  “Allow enough of an investigation to keep order. I do not want any special attention paid to this.”

  Donnavon nodded, bile rising in his throat, making him swallow hard. “Will there be anything else, your Majesty?”

  “No. You are dismissed.” Anastasia waved him away and turned her attention to the contracts offering daughters for marriage to Killian. I will handle the rejections myself. This must be done in such a way Killian is led to believe they were withdrawn. He will need to be handled with care if we are to get him to see reason and marry the Dennsmore girl. She sighed, pulling a blank sheet of parchment toward her. These were correspondences she didn’t trust anyone else to write. Scribes or her private secretary might be influenced to tell tales. Anastasia dipped her quill into the inkwell and started composing the first of five letters that would clear the way for Killian’s betrothal to Katia Dennsmore.

  Serena woke, her head pounding, body feeling as if she’d taken a beating from the Arms Master and every trainee beneath him. Even her mouth was dry, and her jaw ached. As the fog in her mind began to clear, the realization sank in that something was very wrong. Her arms were wrenched behind her body, and rough rope chafed her wrists. Seated in a chair with a high back, she could feel more bindings at her ankles and knees underneath the skirts of her ballgown. Serena’s eyes snapped open, and she took in her surroundings. She was in an unfamiliar room. Splattered on the rough-hewn walls was what looked like dried blood. Iron manacles hung from chains. Dust motes danced in the light funneling in from the solitary window. She smelled smoke and felt the heat of a fire close by. Her eyes fell on the other occupant of the room and narrowed, her mind spinning with possibilities.

  “Ah, you’re awake. Excellent. I thought it was time you and I had a chat, my dear.” Lord Dennsmore reached out, and ran his finger along her cheek, mimicking Killian’s touch.

  Serena recoiled as if she’d been struck. She tried to spit a vile curse in the arrogant noble’s face. Some sort of cloth had been shoved into her mouth, and she couldn’t dislodge it from behind her teeth. Her words were nothing more than unintelligible grunts.

  “Perhaps, chat is not the right word.” Lord Dennsmore smiled. The cold look in his eyes and the slight sneer sent a chill through Serena’s entire being. “You see. It appears you have something my daughter wants. We have tried being reasonable. She has been charming. We have even attempted negotiating, but the prince will have none of it.” He leaned forward and pulled what turned out to be a handkerchief out of Serena’s mouth, giving it a disgusted look before dropping it on the ground. “I thought we could speak, and you might be persuaded to make the prince see reason.”

  Serena worked her jaw, trying to relieve the ache. “Where are we?” Her throat burned, and her mouth seemed coated with a fine layer of sand.

  “This is just a stopover on the journey to your new home.” He waited for the expected response. When Serena remained silent, he continued, “I need you to convince the prince to accept my daughter’s proposal. In return, he will be assured of your safety, and you remain unharmed.” Dennsmore stood and walked over to a low table to pick up a waterskin. “If Prince Killian plays his part, I might even allow him to visit you, with a chaperone, of course. We cannot have my daughter’s hus—”

  “You’re mad,” Serena interrupted. Her voice cracked when she broke out into a violent coughing fit. She bent forward trying to find some relief, but the ropes binding her wrenched her shoulders back with each outburst. Not to mention, the corset didn’t allow her to take a full breath.

  Lord Dennsmore strode over, pushing her back against the chair. He gripped Serena’s chin, pressing in with his fingers. She fought against him, but his hold was too strong.

  Without warning, he poured the contents of the waterskin into her mouth. The coughing turned to choking. Unable to breathe without inhaling water, white points of light danced through her vision. Knowing she wasn’t going to break free, Serena closed her eyes and thought of Killian, wanting her last vision to be a memory of him. She didn’t court death, but if Dennsmore killed her, Killian would be safe. Her life wouldn’t be leverage to be used against him. I’m sorry my love.

  The water stopped, Dennsmore released her chin and Serena slumped forward, gasping for air. Her abused body sagged against the ropes as she fought to remain awake, needing to keep her wits about her.

  “You can feel it, can’t you?”

  Between fits of coughing, Serena glared at Dennsmore. For a moment, the image of wrapping her hands around the man’s throat and squeezing the life out of him filled her mind. She turned his words over in her mind, trying to figure out what in the Gods’ names he was going on about.

  “You can feel the fire in your veins, burning to be free.” He caught her chin in his hand, his eyes boring into her. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, little one. You were supposed to drink all of that wine. It was supposed to expose your true nature, the one I doubt you even know. That’s neither here nor there now. We’ve improvised, and our plans will come to fruition.” A bright, but chilling, smile curled his lips, and his eyes burned with a hateful fire.

  Serena’s heart dropped to the ground, and her blood ran cold. At that moment, she couldn’t see a way out… there was no play in the ropes, and she wasn’t going to be able to slip free. She would never help Dennsmore convince Killian to marry his daughter. The girl was selfish, spoiled, and from what Serena had seen, demonstrated all the worst qualities of the nobility.

  Katia Dennsmore would be a disastrous queen and an even worse wife.

  Chapter 9

  Hours turned into days. Days became weeks. Weeks threatened to stretch into mon
ths and still… no word from Serena. The investigation by the Royal Guards turned up nothing and had been called off after just two weeks. Every day, Killian went about his duties, head held high, almost defiant, always wearing the ring Serena gave him on his finger and, her signet on a chain around his neck. He heard the whispers around the court. Poisonous lies and speculation slithered in through his ears and into his mind, battering his fragile heart.

  At night, when he was alone, Killian fell asleep clutching her ring. The first few nights when the fear, confusion, anger and even hatred were the worst, he cried until his eyes burned, body ached, and exhaustion dragged him into a fitful sleep. As time passed, the outward signs of grief eased, but the last thought as sleep took him away was always of her, wondering if she was alive, if she was trying to return to him. When his defenses were down, the malicious voices crept in, taunting, insisting it had all been a lie, and she’d never loved him. He thrashed under the covers, fighting against the demons in his mind, haunting his sleep.

  Killian reined his mount to a halt at the edge of the woods before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. The sun warmed his flesh, and a sense of contentment settled over him. She strolled along the shore, sunlight playing over and catching the gold highlights in her coppery hair. His heart raced, thundering in his ears while breath caught in his lungs. He dismounted and ran to her. She stopped walking and turned her back to him. Killian smiled. Deciding to take full advantage of the situation, he stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her waist.

  “My love,” he whispered, breathing in her unique but warm, inviting scent.

  “Killian.” Serena breathed and turned to face him. His eyes traced the lines of her face, memorizing her features. He paused at the new red and gold tattoos around her eyes. They traced her brow, coming to a point and sweeping back in to line her lower lids. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh. “It feels like forever since I last held you.” His heart constricted in his chest as his fingers skated over her face.

  Serena reached up and caught his hands in hers. “Killian, don’t talk like that.” She closed the slight distance separating them and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

  “I’m just being honest.”

  “We’re alone, with a lovely afternoon ahead of us. No courtiers. No tongues wagging.” Her arms snaked around his neck. “So, why don’t we find something else to do?”

  “Why, Lady Harlowe, are you propositioning me?” His hands skated along her curves to rest at the swell of her hips.

  Serena chuckled and admitted, “I do believe I am.” Her lips met his with the taste of honey and cinnamon filling his senses. “What do you intend to do about it, my prince?”

  “Well, my lady, I do have a risqué proposition of my own.” Killian slipped his hand into the pocket of his long coat. Fingers finding the smooth metal and curling it into his palm. “Perhaps, I should call it more of a proposal than a proposition.” He skimmed his right hand down her arm and caught her hand as he dropped to one knee.

  “Serena Harlowe,” he whispered while staring up at her, blue eyes meeting green and gold. “Would you do me the honor of consenting to be my wife?”

  Before Serena could answer, a loud pounding snapped Killian out of his dream. He rolled onto his side and curled up around the yawing pit in his chest.

  “Your Highness,” Thomas shouted from the other side of the door.

  Groaning, Killian pushed himself into a sitting position and check his surroundings. He was in his bedroom though several items were out of place and it appeared that he’d gone to bed with his clothes on… again.

  The pounding and yelling repeated.

  The fog began to clear as Killian stared at the barred doors. Thinking about his dream of Serena, he touched his lips and closed his eyes. Reality crashed down around him, and his heart stopped beating for several moments before it shattered into thousands of tiny razor-edged shards.

  The pounding came a third time, louder, followed by Ryan shouting his given name.

  Killian crawled out of bed. “One moment,” he answered, taking a shaky breath as he crossed to the door. Not caring about his appearance, he threw back the bolt and pulled the door open, returning to the bed.

  “Your Highness?” Thomas said. He took two steps into the room and stopped.

  “Thomas,” Ryan glanced at the prince’s valet, “I would like a moment alone with the prince, if you please?”

  “Yes, of course, captain.” Thomas nodded and stepped out of the room.

  “Killian?” Ryan crossed to where the prince sat on the edge of his bed, head in hands. He knelt in front of Killian. “Please, talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  Ryan sighed, knowing what this was about. Well, I’ve tried letting him come to me. I’ve tried to bully it out of him. Maybe a little honesty will work. “I miss her too.”

  The prince glanced up at him, anger flashing in his dark blue eyes. “I don’t want to talk.” A heavy sigh and a hitching inhale followed. “Especially not about her.”

  “Is that why you barred the door?”

  “I did not wish to be disturbed. I needed some time alone, to think.”

  “We both know she wouldn’t want you to take such risks.”

  “I am in the palace. In my private chambers. Certainly, I am allowed one place where I am not watched.”

  “Serena was taken from her private chambers, within the palace. No one saw or will admit they saw anything. If she were here, I know Serena would counsel caution. You know she would.” If she comes back and I haven’t kept him safe and physically whole, I have no doubts my friend will gleefully carve out my heart. She’ll likely whistle a jaunty tune while she does.

  “I had a dream about her.” He choked on the words, throat slamming closed. “Has there been any word, anything at all?”

  “I am sorry, your Highness.”

  “What of her maid, Clara?”

  Ryan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “So there is news?” Killian asked, his voice flat.

  “Clara was found dead.”

  “Oh, Gods. What do I do?” The prince appeared more like a lost child than Ryan had seen since his mother’s death.

  “You do your duty.” The captain of his guard insisted. “You let me and the rest of the Royal Guard do what we can to find her. I know Serena would want you to press on with your obligations.”

  Killian closed his eyes and after a couple seconds, his lips quirked up in a slight smile. “You’re right. She would. Thank you. I will do my best.”

  “Very well, if there is nothing more, I will see you at the eleven hour.”

  Killian’s head snapped up, surprise written on his face. “What?”

  “I’ve decided that Serena would kick my ass if I allowed your training to fall by the wayside. Your regular practice sessions with her were at eleven. Therefore, I will see you then. I cannot promise I will train as well as Lady Harlowe did, but I will make certain you do not fall behind.”

  “Thank you, and please keep me updated on the search.”

  “I will.”

  “Please send Thomas in. I need to speak with him.”

  “As you wish.” Ryan offered a slight bow, turned and left the chambers.

  A moment later, Thomas stepped into the room and, after perfunctory greetings, began reading Killian the litany of meetings his grandmother expected him to attend throughout the day.

  Early in the afternoon, a few days more than a month since Serena’s disappearance, Killian sat at the head of the table only half listening to the lords as they argued over the cost of maintaining the militias and deciding who should bear the majority of the financial burden. Taking a deep breath, he let it out in slow exhales. While using the time to get his mind back on the proceedings, he wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, making him aware of the chain.

  “Your Highness?”

  He shook his head and met
Lady Delia’s green eyes. “Yes, my lady?” He fought back the urge to snap at her when she blushed as he addressed her. Her family has a marriage contract on my grandmother’s desk, and it would not do for me to lose my temper with her. It was just a matter of time before the queen settled on a bride. Killian tasted bile in his mouth.

  “What does your grandmother, the queen, think of this situation?” She smiled and let her eyes wander over what she could see of him.

  Killian closed the folder and placed his hands on top. “My lords and ladies, as you know, with my grandmother’s recent decline in health, priorities have shifted to the court. I will speak with both her and my father about your concerns. One of us will inform you of the crown’s decision.” He stood and gave a slight bow to the assembled men and women. “The crown thanks you for your time and efforts in this matter. Now, if you will pardon me, I have another appointment.”

  Killian watched with detached interest as the others gathered their personal items and papers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryan step into the room. His remaining three guards stayed by the door. Killian smiled at the one who was fast becoming a friend.

  “Your Highness,” Ryan said, standing a few feet away from the prince.

  “Is there any word?”

  “I have just heard from the messenger who was sent to Lakeshire.”

  “Nothing?” Killian had to work to keep his expression and voice neutral, as the spark of hope flared in his chest for a moment and then died at the look on Ryan’s face.

  “No word on Lady Harlowe, although,” Ryan shook his head and waited a moment before he continued, “the steward of her estate did send over their most recent ledgers.”

  “Have those sent to my suite. I will look at them and see what recommendations I can make.” Killian rubbed his temples and closed his eyes after another deep breath. “What’s on the official schedule for the rest of the day?”