by Delia Castel
She gave him a brisk nod and watched the loops and swirls of his quill on the parchment. Berrin wrote with such grace and confidence, she felt the distance between them like a ravine. The little voices in the back of her head that had plagued her since Unwin had betrayed her to the authorities started chattering. They told her she was unworthy, uneducated, undeserving. That she would never amount to anything but a jailbird and a floor scrubber. She sagged in her seat, drowning out those traitorous whisperings with thoughts of the two people she most wanted to help: Berrin and Polaris.
“There, done,” said Berrin. “I didn’t make up a last name as there are survivors from most of the Habilis noble houses. It’s best for the court that you don’t claim to be anyone of a well-known lineage until we’ve learned your true identity.”
“All right.” She reached for the proffered quill and copied what he had written. It wasn’t too pitiful an effort, and Berrin corrected her mistakes until she could get half of the letters right.
An elderly wizard interrupted their practice session to examine Berrin’s injuries. After performing a few spells, he gave Berrin a clean bill of health and handed him an elixir. Upon learning that Marigold had also been in the attack, he examined her with his magic and gave her a vial of black elixir to replenish and balance her humors. As the wizard was clearly their trusted family doctor, she choked down the bitter elixir, chasing it with a large dose of mead.
After about an hour of practice, Marigold could replicate most of Berrin’s letters. Voices came from the direction of the hallway. “All three brothers are in, sir. The young lady is in the family dining room.”
Marigold’s heart jumped, and she leapt to her feet, dropping the quilt on the parchment. “Governor Hertz!”
Berrin growled. “Why would any of the servants let that murderer in?”
A stout, ash-haired dragon, clad in a steel breastplate and charcoal-colored breeches, swept into the dining room, cloak swishing. The only part of him that wasn’t grey were his eyes, a mixture of black and grey with flecks of orange, which reminded Marigold of smoldering coals. He was flanked by two severe-looking men, clad in the long, gray robes of forensic wizards. A bolt of fear shot through Marigold’s insides, making her limbs seize.
Berrin stood, shielding Marigold with his body. “What is the meaning of this, High Sheriff?”
the Sheriff turned his gaze to Berrin. “There has been a report of dragon fire.”
Berrin’s shoulders tensed. “Yes, that was—”
“I did it.” Polaris rushed into the room, his breathing harder than usual. “Bear shifters invaded my home, maimed one brother and attacked the mate of my other brother.”
Marigold bit down on her bottom lip. Why would Polaris take responsibility for burning the shifters? She supposed it might have been because Berrin was underage, and explaining why he could transform would invalidate their plan for her to pose as Matheson’s mate. She shrank into her seat, hoping that the Sheriff would forget her existence.
“Indeed?” the Sheriff glanced at one of the forensic wizards. “Please investigate the scene of the altercation.”
A knot formed in Marigold’s belly. If the wizards could differentiate between the flames of one dragon and another, they might uncover the truth.
“You will be wasting your time,” said Polaris. “I razed the lawn to rid the property of barbecued bear.”
the Sheriff’s brows rose. “I would think that a dragon with your capabilities would not have needed to resort to such measures.”
Berrin stepped forward, fists clenched. “They all but admitted to murdering Mother and Father. One of them worked in the stables, and he poisoned them with papaver and Vulcan knows what else to render them helpless.”
“The shifters told you this?” asked the Sheriff. He stepped to one side, gaze turning to Marigold, fixing her with his smoldering eyes.
Her heart jumped into her throat, and she gulped. Focussing her thoughts on those awful bears, she transformed her terrified expression into a frown and nodded.
Berrin moved into Marigold’s line of sight. “They gloated about their exploits after stabbing me in the back and leaving me for dead.” Through clenched teeth, he spat, “And they identified their commander was our uncle, Hertz.”
Polaris gestured towards the door. “So you can see, I have acted lawfully. I suggest you pay a visit to the Papaver Palace or the Bordello Bagnio and arrest our uncle for orchestrating the murders.”
“It would appear that you have solved the case of the murder of your parents. I will close the investigation.”
“Conspiracy to commit the murder of a dragon is still a hangable offense,” said Polaris.
the Sheriff shook his head. “There are far too many conflicts of interest. Firstly, you and your brothers are in a legal dispute with your uncle. This gives you ample motivation to attribute the murders to him, when all evidence points towards a robbery that went wrong—”
Polaris growled. “A robbery—”
“Secondly,” said the Sheriff in a much louder voice, “Governor Hertz is my employer and now beyond the reach of any sheriff in the states of Boreas and Austellus.”
Marigold gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth. The wretched dragon had gotten away with murder!
the Sheriff walked around Berrin, shoving away his restraining hand. He stalked towards Marigold, keeping his malicious gaze fixed on her. “The third, most compelling conflict of interest is that you are harboring the fugitive, Merry Gold. Governor Hertz is most insistent on arresting her for breaking a manner of laws, including the theft of a priceless artifact from his deputy.”
All the blood drained from Marigold’s face and fell into her plummeting stomach. She stood and backed away on trembling legs.
Berrin stepped into the Sheriff’s path, only for the brawny dragon to knock him aside. Her heart reverberated in her chest, and she continued edging away until her back hit the wall.
Polaris growled, but the Sheriff spun, pointing his index finger into his face. “Easy, General. You of all dragons should know of the exacting standards of conduct set for officers of the King’s Regiment, and the heinous penalty for attacking an officer of the law.”
Polaris bared his teeth. “The young lady in the corner is a dragon. You cannot arrest her unless she commits murder or treason.”
“That remains to be seen,” replied the Sheriff.
“It’s true.” Berrin stepped in front of her. “She isn’t a human.”
The wizard who remained in the dining room pointed his staff at Berrin. “Do not interfere.”
the Sheriff turned around and headed towards Marigold. “Merry Gold, in accordance with the warrant for your arrest—”
Berrin stepped towards the Sheriff, but with a flash of white light, the wizard froze him to the spot.
Marigold wrapped her arms around her chest and trembled. “But I’m not—”
“Before I was rudely interrupted…” the Sheriff reached past Berrin and clamped his huge hand around her arm. “Merry Gold, in—”
“Unhand the future Lady Auburn!” cried a shrill voice. Nanny stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “I must say, High Sheriff, it is bad enough that you have fallen under the influence of that scheming, murdering reprobate. However, I did not think of you as the sort of dragon who would manhandle a lady.”
His hand dropped from Marigold’s arm, and he turned to face Nanny. The tips of his ears turned red. “This is a human fugitive.”
“She is the mate of the rightful Lord Auburn.” Nanny wagged her finger. “As soon as the young master petitions the court to overturn Hertz’ fraudulent claim to the family fortune, this young she-dragon you have brutalized will be Lady Auburn.”
the Sheriff’s gaze darted from Nanny to the wizard and back to Marigold. Marigold held her breath, hoping that he would not try to arrest her again.
After what felt like an eternity, the Sheriff spoke. “I want to see proof of this claim.”
/> Matheson strolled into the room, chin held high. “I’m not sure I heard you, High Sheriff. Since when did a dragon, especially a young lady, have to prove themselves?”
the Sheriff’s head turned to the side. Pink tinged his cheeks, and Marigold tilted her head. What was so embarrassing about that? In Boreas, humans needed to carry identification papers for the inspection by any bear shifter. Hers were probably still in the wooden box she had left in that awful brothel. She didn’t complain, because this bizarre Austellus custom was working to her favor.
“You left her alone with your younger brother?” the Sheriff gestured at a frozen Berrin. “Where is her chaperone?”
“Goldilocks is a refugee from Habilis,” said Matheson. “Human rebels killed her entire family during the revolution. She has no-one and had to eke out an existence disguised as a human servant until she could afford the passage out of that wretched country.”
the Sheriff folded his arms. “She should come with me, then. Staying under the roof of three male dragons is not proper.”
Matheson’s lips spread into a smile. With eyes that twinkled with mischief, he glided past the Sheriff and placed an arm around Marigold's waist. “If you are worried about her virginity, please don’t fret. For you see, I’ve already fucked my mate in so many ways, she has no virtue left.”
Marigold’s cheeks flamed. Matheson pulled her close and pressed a kiss on her lips. His tongue darted out, forcing her lips open, but she kept her teeth clenched, not giving him entrance. His crotch pressed against her hip, already hardening with the contact.
“Oh, young master,” snapped Nanny. “Must you broadcast your activities from the rooftops?”
Matheson smirked and relaxed his grip. One of his hands snaked down and grabbed her buttock. “Forgive my exuberance. I’m so delighted with my beautiful mate, I cannot help myself.”
Marigold’s eyes bulged, but she pulled her face into what she hoped looked like a smile of contentment.
The Sheriff narrowed his eyes. “King Vulcan is holding a ball in two days. Present yourselves there for the King’s Blessing. The ritual will kill anyone not of dragon’s blood.”
Gulping, she averted her gaze. Was this some kind of trap?
“Not all unions need to be blessed by the King,” said Polaris. “My ancestors never needed such a ceremony, and we wish to continue the family tradition.”
The Sheriff folded his arms. “If you do not present this… she-dragon for the King’s Blessing, I will arrest the whole lot of you for harboring a fugitive. I doubt that the Crown Court will look too favorably upon your case against Governor Hertz with such a crime blackening your name.”
Marigold’s breaths became shallow, and the room spun. She would have asked about the blessing, but they were in enough trouble. The Sheriff inclined his head at Nanny and swept out of the room. Nanny followed him out.
“What about Berrin?” Marigold screeched.
The forensic wizard clicked his fingers, and Berrin’s limbs unfroze. He tumbled forward, catching himself on the table. Then the wizard winked and left the room.
For several tense minutes, Polaris and Berrin glared at Matheson. Marigold stared from one brother to the other, waiting for them to speak. When Nanny returned to confirm that the carriage of the High Sheriff had left the grounds, Matheson raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “What? I saved her, didn’t I?”
With a low growl, Berrin punched his brother hard in the face. Matheson spun, hitting his shoulder against the wall. Berrin moved to attack him again, but Polaris grabbed him by the arm. “The damage is done. We must work together, as King Vulcan does not grant every couple his blessing.”
Marigold’s heart thudded. If Berrin was this angry, things had to be dire. “What’s the King’s Blessing?”
Berrin turned to her, his eyes burning with blue flame. Through gritted teeth, he snarled, “Matheson’s filthy mouth has condemned you to the most permanent form of marriage.”
She staggered back, her mind blanking and her stomach lurching. “But I thought we were just pretending to be mates for the court!”
“No.” Berrin breathed hard. “If you don’t go through with this, the High Sheriff will have us all arrested.”
Chapter 6
Early the next day, while Polaris was sitting in Father’s study, a swift flew in, holding a scroll bearing the seal of the Crown Court. He fed the bird a nut and watched it fly out of the opening in the patio doors and over the charred remains of the lawn. He shook his head, making a mental note to arrange a horticultural wizard to restore the gardens.
Matheson strolled in, eyes narrowed. He didn’t complain about Polaris sitting in his seat or about the magical purgative he’d authorized Dr. Squamatus to perform the night before. Perhaps the enormity of his stunt from the night before had sunk into his skull. Matheson pointed at the scroll. “Who’s that from?”
Polaris broke off the wax seal and scanned its contents. “Judge Embers.”
His brother straightened. “What does it say?”
Since the doctor’s visit, he had been more like the Matheson he knew: bold, excitable, and full of mischief. That outrageous display last night was an improvement on his drunken, violent rants, even if poor Marigold had bourne the brunt of his licentiousness. Polaris lowered his gaze and stared into the parchment. He pursed his lips and breathed out his frustration. “The judge refuses to review the case until you’ve received the King’s Blessing.”
Matheson’s eyes widened. “How could he know about that?”
“the Sheriff himself admitted to working for Uncle Hertz.” Polaris rolled up the scroll and set it to one side. “Perhaps his employment now extends to sabotaging his employer’s nephews.”
His nostrils flared. “It would seem so. I ought to get my wings and challenge him to a duel.”
Polaris raised his brows. “Oh? And how do you intend to gain the ability to transform?”
Matheson stared at a knot of wood on the mahogany desk. “Marigold did say she would do what she could to help.”
Irritation flared over Polaris’ skin, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I ought to call the doctor to repeat the magical purgative. Obviously, the mind-altering substances have not left your system.”
“Droll as always.” Matheson stuffed his thumbs into the waistband of his sword belt. “I’ll ask her over breakfast.”
“Do so, and I will not restrain Berrin’s attempts to defend her honor.” Polaris shook his head. “Enough of your jokes. We need to work together to get Marigold in the position to be presented to King Vulcan.”
Matheson strolled to the leather sofa opposite the desk and sank into its depths. Stretching his arms over the top of its backrest, he gazed up at the row of bookshelves adorning the wall behind the desk. “It’s a tall order, you know.”
“To what are you referring?” asked Polaris.
“Turning Berrin’s wench into a she-dragon worth presenting to King Vulcan.”
Anger surged through Polaris’ veins, and he narrowed his eyes. Not wanting to let Matheson know how much that barb had affected him, he lowered his voice, maintaining a cool, measured tone. “Watch your tongue, brother. I will not have you disparage the one person who holds the key to thwarting Uncle Hertz.”
“And whose fault is it that she’s under our roof?” He pointed at Polaris. “Your fascination with whatever she was hiding has led us to this mess.”
Polaris rubbed his temples, missing his quiet office in the King’s Regiment headquarters. “Let us not bicker. You’re the best at formal dancing, and Marigold will need to waltz with King Vulcan before the blessing. Will you teach her?”
“I wouldn’t want to sully her with my roving hands.” He stood, wiping his palms on the sides of his breeches, and then walked out of the study.
Grinding his teeth, Polaris glared at Matheson’s retreating back. For someone who stood to lose everything, he was taking the situation lightly. Polaris wondered whether Matheson alr
eady thought he had lost. Yesterday’s revelation that the chambermaid he had befriended was likely working for Uncle Hertz might have done more damage than he had imagined. He pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering what would become of his brother, now that he was facing the consequences of all his reckless actions. Another visit from Dr. Squamatus might be necessary.
After a quick breakfast in Father’s study, Polaris walked to the guest wing, an unused part of the mansion that housed the ballroom. Marigold and Berrin were already waiting, hand-in-hand. The morning light streamed in through the gaps in the wooden shutters, making the ends of her hair glow like the sun on a clear day. Her tongue darted out to moisten lips that seemed red and swollen from being kissed. Polaris’ throat dried. She was a vision in a simple gown of cornflower blue silk, with a full, ankle-length skirt. Its low bodice was the kind in fashion at the moment, skimming the tops of full breasts that threatened to spill with the right amount of movement.
Polaris imagined that Nanny had acquired it from the trousseau that Kaida had left behind when she had married Kennet. He rather preferred her in Berrin’s borrowed attire, but he understood why the gown was necessary.
She wriggled her shoulders. “I can’t breathe in this corset.”
It was a struggle for Polaris not to track the movement of her breasts. He fixed his gaze on her large, green eyes. “You’ll need to become accustomed to formal gowns for the King’s Blessing, I’m afraid,” he replied.
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
Berrin grabbed her hand. “When the blessing is over, you can wear anything you want.”
Marigold’s lips curved into a smile. “I’ll manage.”
Her willingness to help them brought a warm glow to Polaris’ heart. Marigold possessed a generous soul and inner beauty that was rare among she-dragons. Many parents of female dragons spoiled their daughters. It was unfortunate that their over indulgences rubbed off on the young ladies’ personalities.