Maybe the strangest thing about my room is that my wedding dress is still sitting on the dummy, waiting for me to put it on. I can’t believe how close I came to marrying Lord Varrens. I wonder what he thought when I stood him up at the altar and how pissed Father was about it. Maybe almost as pissed as I was about having to marry someone against my will.
I grab a pair of scissors from my desk drawer. They’re not sewing shears, but they cut the fabric anyway. I feel a little bad about destroying Mrs. Hathaway’s work, but there’s no way I’m ever putting this dress on. If I ever get married, it won’t be in something Father had hastily put together, without even consulting me. And it won’t be a marriage he arranged that way, either.
I attack the dress with the scissors over and over again, cutting it to pieces. I chop the ribbon roses into unrecognizable bits, exposing the chocolate stain. Beads skitter to the floor as I slice through the bodice and snip the sleeves.
I’m in the middle of tearing up the train when there’s a knock on the door.
“Go away!” I shout.
The door opens anyway, and Torrin comes in, shutting it behind him. He stares at me, like he can’t believe I’m really here.
Or like I’m sweating and out of breath and surrounded by cut-up pieces of the wedding dress his mother worked on for me.
“Vee,” he says. “It’s you.”
I wipe a lock of hair away from my forehead. “I said to go away. I didn’t say to come in.”
His mouth turns down a little, hurt by that. “I’m sorry.”
“For not going away?”
“For what I said to you, the last time we . . .” He swallows. “I just can’t believe you’re back. I thought I was never going to see you again.”
“And?”
“And I . . . Is that chocolate on your mouth?”
“I stopped at the bakery on our way through town. I got those scones I like.” The ones he usually gets me for my birthday. I wipe the chocolate off with the back of my hand. “They were hot and buttery, and the chocolate was all melted. I hadn’t had them like that in years.”
He looks like I just kicked him. “I tried, Vee. You know I did.”
“Was there something you wanted? Besides gawking at the fact that I’m still alive?”
“That’s not fair. The last time I saw you, you were with a dragon. It just . . .”
“Wasn’t like me?”
“I didn’t think you were coming back. You said you were going to rescue Celeste, but I thought maybe it was something else. That you and him . . .” He clears his throat. “It doesn’t matter now. You’re back, and I heard you cast the binding spell. That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, sure.” It is—I know it is—even if it doesn’t feel like the victory I thought it would be. “I mean, thanks.”
“I really am sorry. About all those things I said.”
I study his face, not sure if he means it. Or at least not sure if he means it enough.
“I know I was a jerk,” he says, “but I’m really glad you’re back. And if you need any help murdering that wedding dress . . .”
I almost smile at that, but I don’t want him to think I’m forgiving him, because I’m not. “I don’t need any help. I just want to be alone.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” He hesitates, then starts to leave.
And I don’t know why, but the words just spill out of me. “Torrin, wait. It was like that. Between me and him.” I clench my fists, fighting back the bitter taste that’s filling my mouth, but it’s a losing battle. And as much as I don’t want him to see me cry right now, I also have to say this. “I love him. He’s a dragon, and I’m a St. George, and I know how wrong that sounds to you, but it doesn’t change anything, because I love him, more than anything, and I’m . . .” A sob interrupts me, choking off the words, and when I do manage to speak, my voice is high and squeaky. “I’m never going to see him again.”
Torrin takes a step toward me. He reaches out a hand, pausing before putting it on my shoulder, like he’s afraid to touch me. But when I don’t bite his head off for it and just cry harder, he puts his other arm around me, too, and says, “It’s okay, Vee.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“All right, no, it isn’t. But it’s going to be. Maybe not anytime soon, but someday. And I meant what I said. About being sorry. I really, really am.”
Celeste beams at me when I meet up with her and Father in his office. We’ve only been home for a couple of days, but they’re both “eager to talk to me about my future,” or at least that’s how Celeste put it when she told me about it.
Father actually gets up from behind his desk when I walk in, which is a first. He comes over to me, not quite looking as excited as Celeste, but still proud, I guess. It’s been so long since he looked at me with anything other than shame and disappointment that I’m not sure how to take it. This is what I’ve been waiting for, ever since Mother’s death, but it feels hollow and superficial. He knows I somehow infiltrated Elder clan and rescued Celeste after everyone else had given her up for dead, and that I cast the binding spell, but he doesn’t really know me. And I really doubt he’d be looking at me like that if he knew I’d shared Amelrik’s bed for weeks—even if we only actually slept together that last night—or that I was in love with him.
“Great timing,” Celeste says. “I was just telling Father that we should start your paladin training right away.”
“We?”
Father smiles at me. It’s not exactly a warm smile—not like the kind he’d give Celeste—but it’s an improvement. “Celeste’s offered to train you herself.”
“You’re way behind everyone else your age, but with one-on-one lessons, I think you can catch up.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to be a paladin.”
Celeste’s smile falters. “What? Of course you do.”
“I thought I did, but it turns out I don’t.”
Father scowls at me. That didn’t take long. “Your sister’s offering to take time out from her important work to teach you herself. You should treat that like the honor it is.”
“And by ‘important work,’ you mean hunting dragons?”
“Vee,” Celeste warns, shaking her head.
“I don’t want to do that, so I don’t see the point in training to be a paladin.”
They exchange a concerned look, one that tells me Celeste’s already told him about me “thinking” I’m in love with a dragon.
Father sighs and rubs his temples. “I was looking forward to having two paladin daughters, but there’s no shame in going straight to preserving the bloodline.”
Celeste still looks disappointed that she won’t be training me in all things paladin. “You’re sure about this, Vee? It won’t be like last time,” she adds, giving Father a scolding look—way too little, way too late, if you ask me. “We’ll find someone more suited to you this time. Right?”
Father nods, though he seems reluctant about it. “After all the trouble you caused, I can’t believe we’re back to this. But after everything you’ve been through, I can see why a quiet life might be more appealing, and . . .” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for this. “Maybe I was too harsh with you before. You deserve some choice in the matter.”
“Wrong.” I glare at him. “I deserve all the choice in the matter. And just because I don’t want to use my magic to help you murder dragons doesn’t mean I’ll get married, either.”
Father throws his hands up and lets them fall to his sides. “Those are your options, Virginia. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“She doesn’t have to decide right now,” Celeste says. “You can think about it, Vee.”
But I shake my head. “I don’t need to think about it. I’m not getting married, and I’m not becoming a paladin.”
She gives me a worried look. “Then what are you going to do?”
I shrug. “I have no idea. But whatever it is, it’ll be my choice. And if you guys don’t like it, that�
�s just too bad.”
40
A PRETTY GOOD START
It takes a week for Father to plan our welcome-home celebration. I think by “our” he really means “Celeste’s,” but the refreshments table has both of our favorite foods, the banner stretched across the courtyard entrance has both our names, and, despite what I said about not getting married, there’s a noticeable number of eligible bachelors at this party, all of them around my age.
I don’t know if inviting them was a hopeful gesture or a pushy one, but at least this time he didn’t tell me what to wear, and it’s not a silent auction for some cheap St. George stock. It’s not an auction at all.
But even if my father’s not trying to marry me off, and even though several guys here have actually tried to strike up a conversation with me, seemingly genuinely interested, it feels so much like the last party that I can’t help scanning the crowd, half expecting I’ll spot Amelrik.
“You shouldn’t be dancing with me,” Torrin whispers.
We’re dancing together because Celeste said I couldn’t just stand by the buffet all night, ignoring our guests. And Torrin’s technically one of our guests, even if he lives here at the barracks, so I think dancing with him counts, even if I know that’s not what Celeste was getting at.
I roll my eyes at him. “Not you, too. You should consider yourself lucky to get to dance with me.”
“There are a lot of other guys here.”
“That’s exactly my point.”
“I just mean—”
“I know what you mean,” I snap. “You think if I give someone here a chance that I’ll just forget about Amelrik.” It’s what Celeste and my father are hoping for.
“Not forget, just move on. I’m not saying you’re going to fall in love with anyone tonight, but you could at least try talking to some of them.”
“It’s only been a week.”
Torrin frowns and looks like he’s going to argue about that, even though it’s true, when some guy comes up to us and says, “Excuse me? You’re Virginia, right?”
He’s one of the guys my father invited, and if I’m being honest, he’s not exactly hard to look at, and he has a bright, slightly crooked smile.
“Can I have the next dance?”
Where was he two months ago? “I’m sorry,” I tell him, “but—”
“She’d love to,” Torrin says. “We’re just friends. No need to wait for the next dance—you can cut in.” He practically shoves me at this guy.
I glare at him and speak through clenched teeth. “Gee, Torrin, how nice of you.”
He disappears into the crowd, and I’m about to tell the new guy that there’s been a mistake, but he looks so excited to be here with me, like a puppy who just found out he’s going on a walk, that I don’t have the heart to just brush him off.
“Is it true?” he asks, once we’re moving in sync with each other. “Did you really sneak into Elder clan?”
“Yep. I had help, though.”
He grins, shaking his head a little. “That’s still really badass.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, surprised that I actually mean it.
“I’m Devon, by the way. Devon Waters.”
“What, like the prince?” Even if I’d never met one before Lothar and Amelrik, I at least know the names of the royal family.
He clears his throat. “That’s me.”
I gape at him. “You’re serious?” And what’s with me and princes?
“I heard about what you did, and I wanted to meet you.”
I take a step back, so that his hands aren’t on my waist anymore and we’re not dancing. “I’m not really a paladin. I cast the binding spell once. So whatever you think I am, whatever my father told you—”
“Whoa. That’s not . . . I know you’re not a paladin. That’s what makes what you did so amazing.”
“I . . . I have to go.”
“Wait! I’m sorry if I said something to offend you. I just—”
“You didn’t. It’s not you.”
Or maybe it is him, because he’s cute and charming and actually interested in me for me, not because of my St. George blood. And there’s no reason why I shouldn’t spend the rest of the night getting to know him, except that it doesn’t feel right, and all of a sudden, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know why I’m letting anyone dance with me, or letting my friends and family try and push for me to meet someone new. All I know is that I can’t spend the rest of my life looking for the right person—not when I know I’ve already found him—and I can’t spend another minute here.
Devon’s still trying to ask me what’s wrong, but I abandon him on the dance floor and run out of the courtyard. The cool night air feels good, and I take a deep breath, relieved to finally be away from the party.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to find Hawthorne clan again, and going into dragon territory on my own is probably a really bad idea, and there’s a good chance I won’t even make it there, but . . .
But I can’t take this feeling, like something vital’s been ripped out of me. And I know that there’s no reason why it should work out between us. Maybe it can’t. Maybe my heart’s just going to get even more broken somewhere down the line, and it’ll be that much worse, because I got to be with him for a while. But I don’t care.
Because even if I can’t be with him forever, I can’t stay here and not know how things might have turned out. I might get lost along the way, or killed by a dragon, or I might make it there only to have Amelrik turn me away. But letting him go was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, and I have to fix it, no matter what the risk.
I just have to stop by my room first and grab some supplies. And leave a note. Not that saying I’ve run off to go find my dragon boyfriend is going to reassure anyone that I’m okay, but still.
I dart around the corner, hurrying to my room before anyone thinks to come find me. I’m so busy going over the list in my head of everything I need to bring that I don’t look where I’m going and accidentally slam into someone. Though to be fair, I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here.
“Ow.” I put a hand to my forehead where it just banged into someone’s chin.
“Virginia?” The sound of Amelrik’s voice sends a shiver up my spine.
I’m almost afraid to move my hand and see if it’s really him. Because it can’t be him. He’s far away, and I just really, really want to see him, badly enough that I’d imagine he was here, and—
And suddenly his lips are on mine, and I have no doubts about whether it’s him or not. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t . . . I mean, I tried, but . . .” He swallows. “Were you going somewhere?”
I grin at him. “I was coming to find you.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. I was going to Hawthorne clan.”
He smiles and puts his arms around me. I thought I’d never get to do this again, to be this close to him, and the relief that washes over me brings tears to my eyes.
“I’m still a St. George,” I whisper.
“And I’m still the prince of Hawthorne clan.”
“So, nothing’s changed.”
“Except that I don’t know how I ever thought I could live without you. I love you, Virginia. More than anything.”
“But I don’t know how we’re going to make it work.” When I thought I was heading off to find him, figuring this out seemed like a distant problem. Now that he’s standing right here in front of me, it seems obvious that there’s still no solution.
“I’ll tell you how.”
I raise my eyebrows at him, skeptical, but hopeful, too.
He leans in close, his breath soft against my ear. “Like this,” he whispers, and then he licks the side of my face.
I shriek with laughter and surprise—I can’t help it—and punch him playfully in the shoulder. “That’s not a real answer!”
“Yes, it is. Less than a minute ago, you didn�
�t even know that dragon spit has the same mood-enhancing quality as human spit. Obviously, there are a lot of things you don’t know, so how can you be so sure that we won’t figure this out? Besides,” he adds, “now that I’ve got you back, I’m never letting you go.”
“That’s your plan?”
“It’s working so far. Good luck getting rid of me.”
I laugh. “I’m never getting rid of you.”
“Then I guess we’re stuck together.”
“That’s not a real answer, either, though.”
“Maybe not,” he says, leaning in to kiss me again, “but it’s a pretty good start.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I hate to admit this, but once upon a time, I didn’t love this book. I had the first six chapters or so, almost exactly as they appear here, and I thought they were terrible. Which seems crazy now, because I love them, and they’re probably some of the best chapters I’ve ever written. I read that first chapter now and am like, “How did I ever think this was crap???”
But I did. For a long time.
I don’t know if it was my thyroid being at an all-time low (this was before I’d found a website called stopthethyroidmadness.com), which made writing anything almost impossible, or if I really just wasn’t ready to write this story yet, but I put it aside, thinking there was very little chance I’d come back to it. Actually, I thought that several times, as I picked it up and set it aside again and again over the years. I couldn’t make it stick, but I couldn’t just let it go, either.
Fast-forward to now, when I’ve still got a fair amount of health issues but am mostly on the mend. Well, okay, don’t fast-forward to now now, but early 2015, when I was trying to figure out what to pitch to my editor and started thinking about Dragonbound again. I remembered that what I’d written before was complete and total crap, so I came up with plans to overhaul the idea and make it into something worth working on. Thankfully, while I was working on these new plans, I decided to actually read what I’d written before. This wasn’t the first time I’d reread those chapters, but it was the first time I fell in love with them.
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