by K.N. Lee
A massive Dragon guard stood in its dragon form on a platform behind the fountains, his golden eyes watching everyone in the square. His red scales were like armor, and his claws were longer than Rowen’s legs. She stared at him, wondering what he looked like as a human. She imagined he was tall and muscle-bound, with big, heavy fists.
“You two stay close by. I just need to pick up a remedy from herbmistress,” Macana said, keeping her thin hands firm on her change purse, as if someone was going to steal it right off her belt. If she was so afraid that someone was going to steal it, she should have hidden it inside her dress.
Some women liked to display their wealth despite their fear of having it stolen.
Rowen, on the other hand, kept her head down and tried to blend. She smirked and shook her head, scanning the Dragons that filled the stone streets, all dressed in their finery. The show of class was distinctive, with the lower-class ladies and gents covering their hair with caps or hats. Dragons of high class wore their hair long and proud, letting the shimmering strands catch the light like jewels.
The orange sky was overcast on that day, and there was little light coming from behind the thick clouds.
Rain. Rowen could smell it.
“We’ll be right over there,” Brea said, pointing to a cage of colorful birds near the center of the market. “With the birds and snakes.”
“Very well. I will return shortly.” Macana nodded and turned away from them to head into one of the double-stacked shops that lined the square.
“Look at these creatures,” Brea said, pointing to the sleeping birds that perched on branches inside the cage. “I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re so… fluffy.”
“I have,” Rowen said, coming for a closer look. “They are snow owls. I’ve seen them in scrolls during my studies of the other kingdoms and lands. They sleep during the day and hunt at night. They’re from the human realms.”
“What a fascinating name for such a beautiful creature.” Brea gave her a look. “That’s why you’re such an awful dancer. You spent too much time studying books that will never benefit you at court.”
“Who says? My studies have suited me well. Dancing is a silly practice. I’d rather woo my future husband with my wit, not how well my feet glide across the floor.”
Brea chuckled. “Nonetheless, we should buy one of these owls. We can get it a pretty cage and bring it to our room. It can watch over us while we sleep.”
“That doesn’t sound frightening at all,” Rowen said under her breath as she wrapped her hand around the cage bars.
An owl opened one brown eye and looked right at her. The eyes weren’t like those of other birds. They reminded her of those of humans. Intelligent. Perceptive.
She held her breath. It was as if the creature read what was in her soul and wanted her to understand that it knew ever secret she’d ever kept. She shivered and let go of the bars.
“What is it? Did it bite you?”
Shaking her head, Rowen watched the owl, waiting for it to speak. Instead, it closed its eye and went back to sleep.
“No. It just looked at me. It was odd.”
“You’re odd, Lady Rowen.”
“I’ve heard.”
“What do you say? It’ll look adorable on our wardrobe.”
She cleared her throat and looked to Brea. “Then, you can have two oddities for your human realm collection.”
“Human realm collection?” Brea shoved her with a laugh. “Come now. Don’t joke about such things. You’re my friend. This will be our pet.”
“I’m not keen on keeping pets, Brea,” Rowen said, looking away from the owls and back toward the shops. “Every creature should be free.”
Without another word, she headed across the square toward the herbmistresses shop. Ivy and flowers covered her door and glass storefront cased in stone. Herbs were the closest thing to magic the Dragons of Draconia had other than whatever abilities they were born with. It was astounding what the perfect concoction could do in the hands of a capable master.
“Where are you going? I said we’d be at the bird cage.”
“You did. I said no such thing.”
Rowen wondered what surprise Lawson had for her. She could not wait to be done with the dreaded birthday celebration to return to him. Perhaps tonight they could share a bed. It would draw them closer, but would also put her at risk. She needed to maintain her innocence until after marriage. Then, her body would be his and she would love him for an eternity.
It was the perfect reward after eighteen years of suffering.
Still, she wondered what life as a queen would be like. Would the people of Draconia ever accept her? Rowen’s mother had given up everything to keep and raise her. She could have sent Rowen away and returned to her life as a respected Draconian noblewoman and upheld her betrothal to the king of Frostwert.
Rowen was grateful for her mother’s love. Before Lawson’s, it was all she’d ever known.
She pushed open the door to the herbmistress’ shop and was greeted by the overwhelming smell of jasmine, and what she recognized as burnt hair.
Cringing at the odd combination, Rowen covered her nose with her sleeve and stepped inside, letting the door swing closed behind her. It was quiet inside, and empty. She looked at the many rows of shelves stacked with bowls and jars. The sound of whispering came to her as she approached a table of bundled herbs arranged neatly in a flat wooden box with several exposed compartments.
Rowen recognized Macana’s voice and stepped closer to the closed door at the back of the shop. She suspected that Macana was up to something. Only those that had things to hide were worried about what others were hiding, and at breakfast, Macana was especially keen to know what Rowen hid behind her innocent looks.
She pressed her cheek to the cool wood and closed her eyes.
“You think I’m a novice?” a squeaky voice asked on the other side of the door. “It will work. Now, get out of my shop before I pop you with my cane.
Rowen gasped as the door opened and she was met with Macana’s surprised expression. Surprise was quickly replaced by disapproval.
“Nosy girl. I told you to stay put.”
“Actually, you just told us to stay close by,” Rowen replied.
Macana’s cheeks reddened and her nostrils flared.
“Insubordinate little wench,” Macana said. “I am your superior in every way. Do I need to remind you of that?”
The small herbmistress used her cane to tap Macana on the behind. “Move, woman. I have work to do.”
Rowen stepped aside so that Macana could leave the doorway. She watched the herbmistress return to her work station. Her eyes widened when she noticed her black, wiry wings flapping behind her small frame. She was older than the both of them, with short gray hair and big purple eyes. Her eyes were pointed at the top and were pierced with shining red stones.
A fairy.
At barely three-feet tall, the fairy woman lifted herself into the air and grabbed a satchel of herbs from the highest shelf. She threw the glittering dust into a pot and used her cane to stir.
“I asked you to leave,” she said, glaring at both Macana and Rowen.
Macana grabbed Rowen by the wrist and pulled her from the shop.
Once outside, Macana clutched Rowen by her cheeks and lowered her head to a few inches from her face.
“One day, your snooping will be the end of you. You hear me?”
Rowen’s brows furrowed. Macana’s fingers dug into her cheeks, making them burn. She sucked in a breath as Macana lifted her from the ground and held her in the air.
Macana’s strength was surprising, and Rowen knew better than to retaliate. When Macana shook her, she chewed her bottom lip and fought to restrain herself.
“You hear me?” Macana asked, clenching her jaw.
“I do. Sorry, Lady Superior.”
Macana didn’t let her go right away. Instead, she glared at Rowen as if to drive home the fact that this would not
be the last of their discussion.
“I know girls like you. I’ve seen them come and go throughout my years of service to Withrae Castle. You think because you are young and beautiful that rules do not apply to you. Well, young lady, they do. More than ever. You watch yourself and mind your business if you want to survive.”
“Yes, Lady Superior.”
Macana grimaced and dropped Rowen to the ground. “And, don’t forget that I may be older, but I am more Dragon than you will ever be.”
Once released, Rowen stretched her cheeks and frowned as Macana turned and walked away from her. Whatever that was about was probably more serious than the secret Rowen kept. And, she feared that she may have heard more than she should have.
“Dear spirts,” Rowen said in a breathy whisper. “Save me.”
As if to deny her prayer, lightning crashed and rain poured onto her face.
“Subtle,” she murmured, frowning at the gray sky as she shielded her eyes with her hands.
Chapter 5
THE NEXT DAY Rowen and Brea visited the princess’ elaborate private apartment that stretched nearly the length of the back end of the palace.
Rowen stepped inside with a sigh. After her encounter with Macana the day before and the nightmares that haunted her every time she closed her eyes, she was ready for a distraction of any sort.
Princess Noemie had no shortage of work for Rowen. So, she was confident that the day’s activities would help clear her mind.
Princess Noemie stood with her back to them as they entered her private quarters. Her long black hair was already styled, tied tight into a bun on the top of her head and encircled with tiny jewels and a diamond encrusted comb.
Seamstresses and the master clothier all worked to fit her for her gown for the evening while Brea and Rowen waited to be summoned forth.
“Ladies,” the princess said, glancing over her naked shoulder. “Why don’t you pick out a satin sash for your dresses. We should all look remarkable this evening. I can’t have you standing next to me in anything less than the best.”
Brea’s eyes lit up and she grinned. “Yes, your highness.”
Rowen followed her lead and walked over to a table covered in rolls of beautiful fabric. There were ribbons and jeweled combs for their hair.
“I’ll be wearing gold,” Princess Noemie said. “So, pick anything but that.”
Lady Ishma leaned in close to Rowen, her warm breath on Rowen’s ear. “Or red,” she said.
“Why not?”
Lady Ishma snickered, looking from Rowen to Lady Ambeth, another lady-in-waiting with golden hair and thin blue eyes. “They say it’s Prince Rickard’s favorite color.”
Rowen cheeks flushed. “So, everyone knows?”
Lady Ishma’s smile vanished and she took Rowen by the hands. “Knows what, exactly?”
Rowen pulled her hands away and rolled her eyes.
“Oh,” Lady Ishma said, feigning a revelation. “That Prince Rickard covets your pure body? Of course, dear girl. You think we don’t notice the way he looks at you? And dear, when he nearly slapped you at the first half-moon ceremony after your arrival… we all knew it was because you denied him. The prince has a hearty attitude, and an even heartier vigor for new women. It isn’t wise to anger a Dragon such as him. Best to sate him and be grateful he even cast a gaze your way.”
Brea frowned. “Have you no heart? Maybe she truly doesn’t want Prince Rickard’s attention.”
Ishma shrugged, her brown curls rolling off her shoulders. “Who needs a heart when you have my looks? We all know that whatever front you put up for the prince is futile. So, why doesn’t she just get it over with?” She ran her fingertip across Rowen’s bosom, her smile widening. “A Dragon mates for life… with other Dragons. What would he want out of a human other than a night of curiosity?”
Now, Rowen’s cheeks burned. The other girls were perceptive creatures. What they believed they saw was false, but, how long before they learned her real secret?
“I am sure you’re right, Ishma. Then, he can be all yours. Correct?”
Ishma nudged Rowen in the shoulder. “Precisely. You are a quick learner. There is hope for you yet. I hate to remind you, but I am a full-blooded Dragon.”
Ishma was ranked higher than Rowen, and slept in the princess’ room. It was best not to anger the young woman. Her influence with the princess was much greater than Rowen could ever dream.
Rowen snatched a green sash from the table and turned away from Ishma and the other ladies. She left them to sit on a stool near the princess. It was as far away as she could go at the time. Until she was relieved of her duty, she would bathe in the safety of Princess Noemie where the girls would keep their mouths shut about her brother.
She fidgeted with her necklace, bottling her anger inside. She wished that she could return to her room and take a much-needed nap. Then again, the nightmare might return.
When Princess Noemie’s blue-eyed gaze landed on hers, Rowen smiled at her. They were all fortunate to have a fairly just master, even though she had the power to ruin them all from the slightest offense. It was a dangerous dance they all did, to keep the princess happy, when her moods were as flighty as a raven.
“Lady Rowen,” the princess called in her sweet soft voice, breaking Rowen from her thoughts. She was tall, but thin, with blue scales that littered her skin in beautiful patterns, and hair that emitted a faint blue glow in light or dark.
For Dragons to look down on Rowen for being half-human, they certainly coveted those with less visible scales and more pure skin. Princess Noemie was fortunate to only have scales on her wrists and the back of her neck.
Rowen bowed her head. “Yes, your highness?”
“Can you deliver a note for me? I’m afraid I’ll be too busy with the day’s activities to deliver the message myself. Besides, you’ve always been so discreet for me.”
Rowen stood. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you,” the princess said. She nodded toward the small table before her, and a white note placed before a vase of chrysanthemums. “It’s right there. Grab it for me.”
Rowen did as she was told. It would be nice to leave the presence of the other girls for a bit. The princess was notorious for sending letters to ladies of the court, inviting them to secret parties and games in her private apartment.
“Who shall I deliver it to?”
The princess yawned as the master clothier tied the gold sash around her tiny waist.
“Take it to my brother.”
“Which one?” Rowen hesitated to ask.
“Prince Rickard. And, be quick about it. I have several more errands for you before the feast begins.”
Chapter 6
ROWEN DREADED HER visit to Prince Rickard’s private apartment. She was anxious to make it through the day without incident.
Ishma’s words nagged at her. Rickard was just playing with her, and that was fine. Her sights were set a bit higher than the young prince.
The two uniformed guards outside his door barely paid her any mind, having knowledge that she was a lady in waiting for the princess.
She knocked on the door and swallowed, waiting.
The wait felt like an eternity, and she almost slipped the note under his door instead, and ran off in the other direction. To be in such a position was not new to a lady-in-waiting. It was customary for the royal Dragon males to take mistresses from ladies of noble birth before they settled with their eternal mate. It did benefit the woman, elevating her station and at times made her a more desirable potential wife to the men of court or other noblemen.
Despite that, Prince Rickard wasn’t the kind of man Rowen saw herself losing her innocence to. He was more than a prince. He was a pawn in her game.
A dangerous one.
She inhaled as the door cracked open.
The moment Prince Rickard saw her face from the crack in the door, he flung the door open and backed away from her, yawning.
“What do you want?”
Rowen hesitated to step inside. She caught a glimpse of the foot of his bed in the bedroom portion of his private apartment. A woman’s slender legs were visible as she stirred under the blankets.
“You weren’t in your room last night.”
The fact that he just revealed that he’d come looking for her in her room turned her blood cold.
Rickard noticed her surprise and grinned, stalking over to her with the arrogance he was known for, his bare chest exposed and his pants low around his narrow waist. The fact that he had another woman in his bed didn’t stop him from cupping her face with his hand.
A rush of warmth filled her and her eyes fluttered closed. The touch of a Dragon was euphoric and left her a bit woozy on her feet.
“Where were you?” Rickard asked in a whisper that sounded more like a purr as he lowered his face to her neck. He smelled her and groaned. “With a page? Or a palace guard? Go on. You can tell me.”
“I did not know to expect you, Prince Rickard,” Rowen said and chewed her bottom lip, torn between hoping he would remove his hand and desperate for him to never let go. “I just went for a walk.”
Prince Rickard removed his hand from her cheek and tilted her head up so that their gazes met. Dark like the sea at night, there was nothing in his eyes but pride and arrogance. She regretted not taking her chance to escape, but knew what she must do to survive. His full lips curled into a smile as he examined her face.
“I think you know more than you let on. That little face of yours hides the truth better than anyone I know,” he said. “You’re lucky I fancy you, or I’d tell Macana that you weren’t in your room last night. Perhaps I should tell her anyway. To show you your place.”
And, she’d know that you were pursuing me. Rowen kept her mouth shut.
“She’d have you whipped until your rear turned red as a rose.”
Rowen’s brows rose. “Is that what you wish? To see me thrown out of the palace and cast back to my family in shame?” She covered his hand with her own. “I thought my place was with you, your highness. Now that you have me, what will you do with me? Shall I undress now? I think we have time before you’re called to council with your father and brother. If you’re quick.”