Dragon Heat (Dragons of Perralt Book 2)

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Dragon Heat (Dragons of Perralt Book 2) Page 7

by Sher Dillard


  “Remember dear,” the older woman said. “The only difference between them and us is that they think they are special, and we know they’re not. I’ve worked for a dozen different families. Helped arrange a hundred parties. I’ve seen them all, at their best and at their worst. And, believe me. None of them are as special as you. None of them could have come so far, so fast. None of them could have lasted ten minutes on those streets down at Fifth Point. You remember, no matter what, you are just as special as they are, even more so.”

  Laila’s heart broke. She leaned forward and hugged the woman. She could not let her down, nothing must stop her from landing this prince. It was as if she represented all of the people of Fifth Point. She was the one who got to live their dreams of escape.

  Mrs. Peabody smiled at her, then gently reached up and wiped a tear from Laila’s cheek. “No matter what, don’t let them see you cry. If this doesn’t work, hold your head up.”

  “Maybe I should take my dagger,” Laila said with a laugh.

  “Maybe you should,” Mrs. Peabody answered with a serious frown. “Half those people will stab you in the back without a second thought. At least you’d gut them, staring them in the eye.”

  “And give the knife a little twist,” Laila said with a smile.

  Mrs. Peabody laughed with her, then stepped back and gave her one last examination.

  “You’ll do girl. If ever there were a princess, it is you.”

  Laila lifted her chin and thought to herself. It is now or never.

  She glanced one last time at the dagger resting on her bureau. Should she wear it under her dress? The thought was almost sacrilege, yet she would feel naked without it. Her hand ached to take it. In all of her years, that dagger had been the only thing she could ever rely on.

  No, she thought. Flint said that princesses don’t wear daggers. Well, she would show him that she was a princess. At least for tonight. He might not want her, but a prince would. She was determined to show Flint what he had thrown away.

  Taking a deep breath, she gathered her inner strength before she started down the stairs.

  Flint waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. For a change, tonight, he was dressed in black with a stark white shirt under his tight jacket. On him, it worked. But then, Flint would make any clothes look good.

  The man looked scrumptious, as always. Her heart jumped when his eyes locked onto hers.

  A deep desire passed behind his eyes. He might not want to keep her. But, he definitely wanted to take her again, she saw. It was as if he saw her as his prey. Something to be caught and then forgotten.

  She lifted her chin and ignored his look of passion. To hell with him. She would find her man at the party tonight and forget this arrogant idiot.

  Turning she let him slip her cloak over her shoulders.

  “Slightly different than my pants,” she said with a small laugh.

  “I don’t know, I liked you in those pants,” he said. “You look priceless,” he whispered into her ear.

  Laila shivered as his warm breath caressed her neck. Oh what might have been, she thought.

  Turning, she gave him half a smile and dipped her head. She would have to put their argument behind her. She needed his help to get through the night. And after all, he was doing this for her. For her and his damn coin.

  “Thank you,” she said. “And just think, you will soon have your precious coin.”

  Flint looked taken aback for a moment. “True,” he said, “and you, your prince.”

  They rode together in a fine carriage, their shoulders brushing. Laila had a hundred questions she wanted to ask. Who would be there, what should she expect. Emily had gone over the details a dozen times, but still, she wanted to hear Flint’s voice assuring her everything would be fine.

  Instead, she remained quiet. The tension between them rising with every turn of the carriage wheel.

  Why didn’t the man talk? she wondered. To him, this was just another party. Another opportunity to meet new women and obtain new conquests.

  The tension became unbearable. Laila couldn’t take the quiet between them any longer.

  “This is the first time I have seen you outside the house without your sword,” she said. It was the only thing she could think to say.

  He laughed. “True, a fact that I hope to not have to ever repeat. The Ambassador let me know that swords are frowned upon at these parties.”

  She smiled and nodded, but the awkward tension quickly returned.

  “How about your dagger?” he asked. “Did you wear it?”

  She shook her head, ‘no.’ He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well, we are both defenseless tonight,” he said with a sad smile.

  She smiled back at him and said, “I don’t know. I believe you would be even more dangerous without a sword. That scowl of yours could disarm a dozen men.”

  He laughed, but said nothing more. Once again, an awkward silence fell over them like a thick fog.

  What is it? she wondered. Why does it have to be like this? Is it last night? Their argument this morning? Or, the future fast approaching? For some reason, she felt this distance growing between them and she hated it.

  Laila sighed and stared out the carriage windows into the night. Into the dark unknown. She could feel the end approaching and the fact terrified her.

  Suddenly, they passed beyond the Protected Enclave gates and into the city proper.

  Turning to him in surprise, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  Flint smiled, “The embassy is on the other side of town. They are rather new to this Kingdom. I believe the Queen of Lushcany has only recently begun sending Ambassadors to neighboring kingdoms. All trade and goodwill type of things.

  Laila nodded. She would never understand politics, not really. But, she didn’t need to. That would be her new husband’s responsibility.

  The wagon wheels rattled over the cobblestones as the carriage weaved its way through the streets of Quaster. Laila took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself.

  But, no matter how hard she tried she could not ignore the big man seated next to her. The warm smell of leather and pine, the way his shoulder brushed hers every time they hit a bump.

  It was impossible. How was she supposed to ready herself with him right next to her? This was the most important moment of her life, and he was crowding her like a giant rock in the middle of a river. Just there, unable to be ignored.

  At last, after what seemed like a half a life time, the carriage rolled to a stop before a huge stone building with a red terracotta roof. Torches ringed the building, lighting up the night with a thousand shadows.

  Laila’s insides turned over. This was it. Succeed or spend the rest of her short life in the mines.

  Flint jumped out of the carriage before the servants could reach the door. Was he in that much of a hurry to get rid of her? she wondered.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to center herself. Forget about Flint. Forget about last night. You are a Princess. Remember, you deserve this.

  She took Flint's hand and slowly exited the carriage. It took every ounce of her control not to gawk at the large house, the dozens of servants, all dressed in fine livery, or the finely dressed ladies and gentleman preceding them into the house.

  Taking Flint's arm, she glanced up at him and nodded slightly. He looked down at her with twinkling eyes and smiled that killer smirk of his, then patted her hand.

  And they were off.

  They were greeted at the door by the Ambassador himself. A short man with thinning hair. His eyes sparkled with merriment. Not what she had pictured as an Ambassador. A woman of middle years and growing girth stood next to him. She looked nervous and kept shooting glances at Flint as if she was afraid the man would be displeased.

  “Welcome, Your Highness,” the Ambassador said to her, as he stepped forward and bowed at the waist. His wife immediately dropped into a deep curtsy.

  Laila blanched. She and E
mily had practiced this a dozen times. But, it was different in real life.

  Taking a deep breath, she told herself she could do this. Flint squeezed her hand, giving her a shot of confidence. Lowering herself slightly in just a hint of curtsy, she returned the greeting.

  “Thank you, Sir Claremont, and you Lady Claremont. It was so nice of you to invite me tonight.”

  “Our pleasure,” the Ambassador said, as he glanced at Flint. “It was the least we could do.”

  The couple turned and escorted them into the house. Both of their faces looked concerned. Almost as if they feared entering their own house.

  The door opened into a large receiving area, to the left, a large open room awaited, full of people. There must have been thirty of them. Everyone dressed in expensive clothes. Each of them looking at the new arrivals. Inspecting, evaluating, wondering.

  Laila’s skin threatened to erupt into a dozen blemishes. Her stomach tightened. Every person in the place was examining the new Princess. Each of them wondering where she was from and who she was really.

  Gritting her teeth, she allowed Flint to take her arm and walk her into the room.

  Candles and lamps burned throughout the room. Giving it a lively glow and leaving the faint hint of burnt wax throughout the room.

  A white banner hung on the far wall. A red two-headed dragon graced the silk fabric. The same two-headed dragon stamped on Flint’s coin. The coin inside the locket hanging around her neck.

  She quickly shot Flint a questioning look.

  The Ambassador caught her obvious curiosity at the banner. “The new coat of arms for Lushcany,” he said. “Our new queen changed them last year after her marriage to the new crown prince.”

  Laila’s world shifted. What was going on, what did it mean? Was it coincidence, or was there some hidden meaning.

  Flint leaned forward and whispered, “I’ll explain later, I promise.”

  “You better,” she said, as she glanced once more at the banner. That was one question she was not going to let him avoid.

  Before she could think more on the matter, though, she was swamped with introductions and welcomes from the guests. She found herself separated from Flint as women tried to monopolize her time and attention.

  Laila smiled to herself. These women were no different than the women of Fifth Point. The only real difference was that here, she was the center of attention. Not a gutter snipe, someone to be ignored or feared less she contaminate them.

  It was amazing what a pretty dress and a handsome man on your arm could do for a woman’s reputation.

  Chapter Ten

  Flint tried not to smile too much. They were buying it. All of the guests had believed what they had been told. But then, why wouldn’t they. A beautiful, mysterious woman arrives in town. An Ambassador welcomes her from a distant land.

  Of course, they would believe it. But, Laila had confirmed it. Her poise, her beauty, her inner strength. It spoke of royalty. She couldn’t be anything but a princess.

  He studied her for a moment. Watched the way she handled the crowd of women around her. Gently answering some questions, deflecting others. She was perfect.

  His heart grew with admiration for her. And you’re letting her go, he thought. You idiot. You absolute idiot.

  “You are an idiot,” Lady Emily said, as she sidled up next to him.

  He glanced down at his friend and laughed. “You’re probably right, but just so we are talking about the same thing. Why am I an idiot?”

  The woman didn’t take her eyes off of Laila as she said, “Because you’re letting her go. Giving her away. A woman like that doesn’t come along that often that you can let them go.”

  “I’m not the marrying kind.”

  Emily laughed, “How well I know.”

  “Besides,” Flint continued, “the woman wants a prince.”

  “Ha,” Emily scoffed. “The woman wants you. The way she looks at you. It’s like you saved her from a fate worse than death or something. You are her hero. You will always be her hero. And, you’re throwing away the best thing that could have ever happen to you. A woman you want who wants you back.”

  Flint remained silent as he took another sip of his drink. The fact that Lady Emily was confirming what his heart was yelling at him, only made things worse.

  The two of them stood silently next to each other as they watched Laila command the room’s attention. At last, she broke away from the gaggle of her new admirers and made her way back to Flint and Emily.

  “Lady Emily,” Laila said, as she approached them, “I think it’s working.”

  “I know it is,” Emily said. “You are doing wonderfully, my dear.”

  “Thank you so much, I couldn’t have done it without you,” Laila said, taking Emily’s hands in hers.

  Emily smiled back at the young woman, then looked up meaningfully at Flint.

  He coughed as he fought to find his voice. “Yes, Laila, you are doing wonderfully. You will have that Prince hooked and landed in no time.”

  Laila’s eye clouded over for a moment, then she gave a weak smile and turned back to look at the crowd.

  Emily shot him a look of disdain and shook her head. Turning to Laila, the woman said, “Come along, dear. There is someone I want you to meet.”

  The two woman left him, but not before Emily gave him another look of clear disappointment.

  Flint shrugged it off. He wasn’t the marrying kind, he reminded himself. Besides, Laila deserved the best.

  Taking another drink from a passing tray, he searched the room for somewhere to be alone with his thoughts. A private corner or a deeper shadow. Somewhere where he could just be. These parties were frustrating, tiring, and irritating all rolled up in one.

  He desperately missed the silent solitude of the valley at home. That comforting quiet without demands or expectations.

  Sighing to himself he started for the far corner when a hand gripped him briefly on the shoulder.

  “Excuse me,” a voice said. “Mr. Flint is it?”

  Flint turned to examine this new interruption. A cold shiver ran down his spine, and he didn’t know why. Everything about the man set off alarms in his head.

  Dressed in a gray jacket with prematurely gray hair. The man was strong and robust with charcoal eyes and a nasty scar on his neck.

  “Yes?” Flint said, as he shrugged off the hand holding his shoulders.

  The man smiled. “Allow me to introduce myself. You can call me Mr. Gray.”

  How appropriate, Flint thought as he felt the beast inside of him start to rise. What was it about this man that triggered so many alarms?

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Gray?” he asked.

  The man’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Oh, it is what I can do for you.

  Flint raised an eyebrow in question as he waited for the man to provide more information. He knew instinctively not to believe a word this man said. Everything would be shaped and carved to meet his needs.

  The man, Mr. Gray, turned away to stare across the room at Laila and Lady Emily talking to an older couple. Flint didn’t know who they were, but it didn’t really matter. At this party, everyone was important.

  “Truly remarkable,” Mr. Gray said with a slight shake of his head. “Only two weeks from an alley in Fifth Point to the Ambassador’s party and perhaps a prince. Remarkable.”

  Flint’s blood froze, his breath halted, and his muscles tensed. Everything they had worked for. The coin. Everything was in danger.

  He had been right. His beast was never wrong. Who was this man and what did he know? Even more important, what did he want?

  Turning to place himself between the man and Laila. He stared him in the eye. The man stared back, unafraid. Almost welcoming a fight.

  Flint felt the tension rising between them. That testosterone tension of two alpha males challenging each other. For a brief moment, he wondered if he was about to ruin any chance Laila had at getting her prince. Was he about to fight this
man here on the floor of the Ambassador’s party?

  They continued to stare at each other. Flint could feel the hate in the other man’s cold eyes. Why?

  The absence of his sword felt like a lost arm. He felt exposed and vulnerable without it. For some reason, he was sure the man across from him was armed. He seemed like the kind of man who would pull a dagger from inside his jacket and stab him in the back if he had the opportunity.

  Well, Flint wasn’t going to give him a chance. Besides. The man didn’t know about the beast that raged inside of him. If he had, Mr. Gray would be quaking in his boots and pissing down his pants.

  The moment seemed to drag on for hours. But, after only a short time, the man backed down.

  “Not here, not now,” he said. “But, soon. I will have what belongs to me and mine, soon.”

  Flint’s brow narrowed in confusion, then it struck him. The man was after the coin. Again, why?

  “Until we meet again, Flint,” the man said, as he gave him one last glare. Then turning, he walked away. His head up, turning his back on Flint as if he knew perfectly well that he was safe.

  A sense of failure passed over Flint. He should have killed the man when he had the chance. He would regret this failure, he just knew it. Somewhere in the future, he would regret not killing the man when he had the opportunity. To hell with shocking the Ambassador’s guests. They could use a little excitement anyway.

  Once the man was lost in the crowd, Flint turned back to check on Laila. Lady Emily was frantically gesturing for him to come and join them.

  Great. Out of the fire and into the frying pan.

  Flint made his way over to the two women.

  “He’s arriving,” Emily hissed. “The Ambassador has stepped outside to greet him.”

  Laila’s face had turned as white as chalk and her lower lip trembled. She was terrified. Why she had convinced the guests, she was beautiful, strong, she had nothing to fear. The Prince would love her.

  His heart ached. Thoughts of the Gray man disappeared. Worries about his family, everything, disappeared.

  There comes a moment in life. A moment that is usually only recognized in hind sight. That moment where everything changes. It takes a path unforeseen. Unfortunately, Flint could see it happening as it occurred. This was the moment when he lost her. The moment that his life took a turn for the worst.

 

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