“Duty?”
Killian sighed and seemed to turn the idea over in his mind. Then he shook his head. “Her only duty is to the people of Lakeshire.”
“And if her illness is slowly killing her?”
“She would need to marry to protect the people. But she has to ask for royal permission to marry. You haven’t carried a message like that to my father have you?”
“No, Highness. However, I am not the only messenger who goes to Lakeshire.”
Killian dragged his hand through his hair and scrubbed his face. “I love her, but I can’t take this anymore.”
“You have to let her go, my lord.”
The prince rubbed the bridge of his nose, pinching it between his finger and thumb. “Thank you, Ryan.”
“You’re not going to let her go, are you?”
“I can’t. It would be like tearing my heart from my chest and crushing it underfoot.”
“What will you do?”
Killian thought about it for a few moments. “I will try to respect her wishes. If she does not wish to see me, I will not force the issue. I can only hope that, with time, we will find some measure of peace with one another.”
“Forgive me, Highness, if there is nothing else, I would take my leave.”
“Naturally, you must be exhausted.”
“Will I see you tomorrow morning for our bout?”
“Of course. Thank you,” Killian answered before Ryan bowed and left the room. Killian picked up the letter, noting the splotched ink. “Peace. We must make peace,” he whispered holding the parchment over a candle flame.
Chapter 22
Altus stormed through the halls, certain what he’d heard was a lie. He knew the prince of Illedria was getting married, and he had no doubt the king was dying. But he couldn’t believe his princess would be attending the wedding. According to what the rumors in the castle said, she intended to leave before nightfall. That was unacceptable. His princess needed reminding that royals did not travel alone.
Stepping into her receiving room, Altus found Serena at the center of a swirl of activity. She directed maids and porters as they packed a number of small trunks. “What do you think you’re doing?” he blurted the question before he had the chance to consider the situation. Bad form for a diplomat, he knew. If his father were still alive, he would have been on the receiving end of a stern lecture. But finding his princess preparing for a journey without informing anyone had caught him off guard.
“I am returning to Haven.” There was no emotion behind her words.
If she’s anything like Ellesandra, emotionless is a very bad sign. “Why?” He stepped into the room and closed the door so no one else would hear their conversation.
“Because, as the Lady Governor of Lakeshire, my presence has been requested,” She paused and with a heavy sigh dropped the saddlebags on the foot of her bed and closed her eyes. “No, that’s not right. My presence has been commanded at the Illedrian royal wedding.” She ran a hand through her hair and tucked several strands behind her ear before her hand dropped to the small pendant at her throat.
“You cannot go.” With a look and gesture, Altus ordered the servants from the room because this discussion would require privacy.
“I have been playing the sick Lady Governor, but I can no longer.” She gestured to her desk. “If I do not attend, it opens my province, my people, to another ruler chosen by the king. I will lose the province, my title… Everything.”
“I do not understand. Do you not trust the king to choose a worthy successor?”
Serena shook her head and sat on the edge of her bed. “I would trust Killian. However, Mathias still rules, in spite of failing health.” She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “I do not trust him.”
“Then allow us to send you with a proper escort. You are the Princess of the Dragon Fey, a ruler in your own right and a force to be respected.”
Serena shook her head. “I cannot. There is no time for a full entourage, and as much as I despise Katia, I will not humiliate her on her wedding day. That would make me no better than her.” She licked her lips and curled them under her teeth, biting down to keep from saying anything more. The mere thought of seeing Killian set her heart racing before it dropped to her feet. Her hand drifted to the delicate scales surrounding her eyes.
In her nightmares, Killian turned from her, disgusted by what she was and everything the markings represented. She checked the strap on her saddlebag for the third time. “There’s nothing left to say. I need to leave by sundown if I am to have any chance to arrive in time for the wedding.”
“You were meant to marry him,” Altus said without thinking.
“What?” Serena came to her feet and took several steps toward him before stopping, almost in his face.
“When you were a child, your parents entered into negotiations with the Illedrian court through the late Princess Deliah, Killian’s mother. When you came of age, if you and Killian both consented, you were to be married.”
“She knew?” Serena caught the post of her bed, fighting to stay on her feet as the world tilted beneath her feet. Her lungs still worked because she could feel air passing in and out of them, but she felt as though she were suffocating.
“Yes, even before you were brought to the capital after your clan’s murder. The late queen knew, as well. They chose to keep your lineage from you. I do not know why.”
Hope blossomed in her heart, and Serena felt as if she could breathe. Her heart began beating again. “There is no written record is there? I never saw one in all my wanderings in the archives. Killian’s mother forbade such arrangements until he was at least sixteen, the minimum age he could consent to such a match.”
“You are correct. There are no written records. It is not the way of our people. Though your parents made an exception for this particular contract when negotiations had been concluded.”
She closed her eyes, trying to nurture the tiny spark, praying to all of the Gods that she and Killian would have a chance. “Is there any proof at all that can support this claim?”
“Any written documentation our people had would have been destroyed when your family was killed.”
She closed her eyes. Breath caught in her throat and pain shot through her heart as her optimism died. “It’s hopeless. If I had proof…” she said in a loud exhale, “there might be some way to stop his marriage to Katia.” Her throat constricted, and she swallowed hard. “Please, Altus, leave me. Allow me to do what I must… in peace.”
Altus sighed. He wanted to give the princess what she desired, what she needed. However, it would be foolish to allow her to travel alone. “Forgive me, but I cannot allow it. You will require protection on your journey. You must travel by horse, and your skills as a dragon are, forgive me, Highness, lacking for a trip of this length.”
“I am a trained warrior.” Her voice cracked through the room like a whip. “I can take care of myself.” She stood and picked up the saddlebags and turned, running right into Altus.
He grabbed her wrist, the nails on his fingers more like claws as they pressed against her flesh. “You cannot hide the markings on your face or the fact that your nails are strangely long and do not break. You need to be careful. Our kind is not without enemies.” He released her wrist and stepped back. “If they see what you are, they will not hesitate to kill you. Some of our people are still being told you have survived. That you are among us once more. All I ask is you take the trio with you. They will keep you safe.” He took a deep breath. “I know this is all new for you, princess, but certain things must change. If you insist on attending this wedding, then you need to be protected.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Very well, have the trio meet me in the courtyard in fifteen minutes.”
“Would you like me to have your horse prepared?”
“I have already taken care of it.”
“For what it is worth, princess, I am sorry.”
His soft words were l
ike the tap of a hammer on delicate glass. Her heart shattered, and she fought to hold in a sob until Altus closed the door behind him. She didn’t bother moving, just sank to the floor, pulled her knees up to her chest and wept.
She stood, staring at the roses that grew in the center of the royal garden. A perfect red bloom sat on the ground in front of the other bushes. Closing her eyes, she listened to the babbling of the stream that ran through the garden.
“Serena, love?” Killian said from behind her.
“Killian,” she answered with a sigh.
“Won’t you look at me? Let me see you.” He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent of her. “It’s been far too long. Too many days without your touch, your kiss, your voice… without you.” His lips skated across her neck, sending pleasurable chills racing through her. His fingers drifted up her sides tracing the curves of her body.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and she leaned back into him.
Killian chuckled, tugging her hips against his. “That’s my girl. Now, let me see you.” His cool breath tickled her ear.
Serena took a shaky breath, licked her lips and turned around, dipping her head, so her hair fell like a curtain between them.
“Why do you hide, my love?” He reached up and brushed the hair out of her face.
“I’m afraid,” she whispered.
“Of what?”
The fear twisted her stomach into knots. “That you’ll reject me.”
“Why would I reject you?”
“I don’t look the same as before.”
“Scars? I would kiss every scar and take all the pain if I could. I don’t care about scars.”
She took a long, deep shuddering breath. It was time to tell him the truth. “They’re not scars. They are part of who I am.” She looked up and met his blue eyes.
“I don’t understand.” He reached up and brushed his fingertips along the edge of her markings. Serena closed her eyes and sighed as his touch sent threads of pleasure through her.
“I am Dragon Fey.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She’d meant to explain things, to work her way up to telling him.
Killian stepped back, darkness filling his eyes. “You’re one of those things?” His lips curled up in a sneer.
“Killian, what’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? You’ve been lying to me all this time.”
Serena staggered back as though he’d slapped her.
“Pretending to be that which you are not.”
She couldn’t breathe… couldn’t make the truth come out.
“You are no better than my wife and her pack of grasping harpies.”
“No.” Serena reached out to him, hoping somehow this was all a cruel joke. “Killian, please. I haven’t changed. I’m still your Serena.”
“No, you’re not,” Killian spat. “You disappeared. You’ve hidden. You abandoned me.”
“I had no choice. Please give me the chance to explain.”
“No.” His voice cold, face an imperious mask.
“My prince,” she whispered as her knees gave out. She sank to the ground.
“Not anymore.” He turned and walked away.
“Killian,” she called, but he kept walking without looking back, leaving her alone and bereft.
“Princess.” Bronwynn’s hissed whisper broke through.
“Leave me.” Serena threw off the other woman’s hand. Each breath ripped through her as if fine shards of glass filled the air.
“Serena.” Bronwynn’s voice was more insistent, and she shook the other woman’s shoulder.
“What?” Serena pushed herself into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes, feeling the slick wetness of tears cutting lines down her cheeks.
“You were screaming.”
“Nightmare,” she said, breathy.
“You’ve been having more of those since we left.”
“We’re traveling to the city I once called my home so I can bear witness to the man I love marrying a woman who took great joy in making my life miserable. He hasn’t seen me since the spell was broken, since…” Her voice trailed off, and she gestured to the markings around her eyes, knowing they were just the beginning. She had pushed him away and lied about why. He has every right to hate me, but I don’t know what I’ll do if he does.
“You’re afraid of what he will think?”
“I’m watching him marry another woman. The woman who the entire court said was perfect for him. She has the right family, is beautiful and has wealth. Everything I did not have.”
“You are the Princess of the Dragon Fey. You will rule once you reach your majority. He thought you were beautiful. I don’t see how that can have changed.”
“How do you know what he thought?”
“You left one of his old letters open on your desk. Forgive me, princess, but I saw a line or two as I closed it. From the little bit I read, it’s clear he thinks you’re beautiful.”
“He hasn’t seen me since these appeared.” She gestured to the red and gold scales around her eyes. Every time she thought of revealing her changed face to Killian, her stomach twisted into knots. I know he won’t care. But I don’t know if I can handle the initial shock I’m going to see in his eyes. What if it’s not shock, but disgust?
“I hope he is not so shallow as to let your markings influence how he sees you.” Bronwynn laid her hand on Serena’s arm.
Serena nodded, wanting to reply, but she couldn’t breathe. Her mind filled with images of the wedding banquet. She saw Katia and her harpies laughing when they thought she wasn’t looking, and Killian joining in with them. Gods, I can’t do this. This is a fool’s errand. “Bronwynn?” she whispered.
“Yes, your Highness?”
“When you delivered my letters to the court where did you stay?”
“Just outside the city a place called the Bell and Candle,” her lady answered, giving no indication she found the princess’s question strange.
“Good. We’ll stay there too.”
“Not at the palace?” The first hint of confusion slipped into her voice.
Serena shook her head. “No.” The thought of staying at the palace made her blood run cold. “We shall send our regrets to the court and stay at the Bell. We also will need veils. I want to keep our markings secret even though the court would just think they were painted on.”
“May I ask why, Highness?”
“Because I don’t know if I can do this. I know I can’t face Killian, not on his wedding day. And certainly not immediately following.”
“You’re not going to speak to the prince?”
She shook her head because her breath caught in her throat again and grief washed over her. Before Serena knew what was happening, Bronwynn had enfolded her in an embrace and let her weep, gently rocking her as she slipped back into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Chapter 23
Killian stood before the priest to marry Katia. The bride was radiant, beaming while the groom hid his disgust behind an unbreakable mask of civility. Sitting in the back row, Serena watched from behind a veil of gauzy material. She clenched the small drawstring bag on her lap but couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her cheeks. She’d known this was a bad idea, but since receiving the invitation had felt a compulsion, something drawing her back to Haven, back to the court…
Back to Killian.
Serena wanted to leave as soon as he walked to the priest’s side. She could see and knew without even talking to him that he wasn’t her Killian anymore, in more ways than one. His expression was cold; his handsome features seemed chiseled from ice as he turned to face the crowd, waiting for the bride to appear.
She stood when the other guests did, catching sight of Ryan in his dark, formal uniform, standing close to the prince while the eyes of the assembled were on the bride as she made her way to the center of the royal chapel. Her oldest friend scanned the crowd, eyes landing and lingering
on Serena for a few moments before moving on.
Closing her eyes, she slowed her breathing as the priest began the ritual. Serena felt long forgotten magic still woven into the ceremony begin to flow through the room. It sent tendrils of heat through her until they seemed to slip free of their bonds. When she opened her eyes, crimson motes whirled through the air, dancing in patterns that drifted over the crowd as though seeking something or someone.
“No,” she whispered under her breath, hoping the lord seated beside her didn’t hear.
The magic didn’t obey her command, her plea. The motes drifted to where Killian and Katia stood as the priest wrapped the black marriage silks around their joined hands. Serena knew she was the only one who saw what was happening as the motes coalesced and settled into Killian’s chest, around his heart. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for strength, knowing what remained of her life would be spent feeling as though half of her soul was missing. In her foolishness, she’d condemned Killian to the same fate. The realization washed over her in a wave of numbness that began with her core and worked its way out to her limbs. Serena didn’t notice as the ritual concluded and remained seated when the royal couple exited, followed by the rest of the guests, leaving her alone in the chapel.
“Why?” she whispered to the statue on the altar of the Gods. “Are you so fickle? So blind? So cruel as to give and take away like this?” She stood and walked to the center of the room. “You could have let me die. Should have let me die. I wanted death, was ready for it… welcomed it.” Her hands shook as she flipped the veil over the top of her head. “The only thing that kept me going in the darkness was the memory of him. The hope, the promise of what could be… Now this”—she gestured at everything around her—“you truly are fickle. Or you don’t exist.”
She didn’t hear his footfalls or notice his presence before he spoke. “This wasn’t his choice, you know. He was forced. The queen was dying, and so was his father.” Ryan’s words held understanding, compassion and threatened to shatter what little control she had maintained.
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