by Simone Pond
“I thought you left Verubri,” said Ciara.
“I forgot something …”
Ciara chuckled. “Still the same old Evelyn. Never seeing the seriousness of anything. It’s all just one silly game.”
A chill sliced Evelyn down the middle as she chuffed. “That’s amusing. I thought you were the one who enjoyed playing games.”
The hallway became pin-drop quiet. Except for the thudding of her heart like a warning signal telling her to flee.
Ciara stepped closer. “Are you here for the villagers?”
“You know that’s why I’m here.”
“You’re too late,” said Ciara.
Evelyn’s throat dried up in an instant. She glared at Ciara, clenching her jaw to avoid saying something reckless. “Too late?”
“They’ve been taken to the Vindius Mountains for the summer solstice ceremony.”
Evelyn leapt forward and clutched Ciara’s gown. “Do you have any idea what he does with them? Do you even know?”
Ciara shoved Evelyn backward. If she hadn’t been swimming in her dress she would’ve been better equipped. She stumbled and tripped to the floor.
“Of course I know. For whatever reason, he really wanted to sacrifice you for the ritual, but that doesn’t fit with my plans.” She paused a moment, then shouted for a guard.
An enormous brute stepped out from behind a doorway and stood before Ciara, bowing.
“My lady.”
“Take this one to the dungeons, Rex. Bludgeon her so the little rat can’t escape this time. And remember, don’t say a word of this to anyone. Not even the prince. Do you understand?”
The gargantuan man bowed again. Ciara pet his head and dropped a handful of gold coins into his large palm. She smirked at Evelyn, turned away, and disappeared into the shadows.
Evelyn stood up. Now would’ve been a good time to make a run for it, but she was too late. The behemoth reached out and grabbed the back of the dress and yanked Evelyn toward him. She kicked and flailed around, doing absolutely no damage. His beastly fist landed against her jaw. She careened backwards, slamming her head against the wall. She dropped to the stone floor. Pain thrashed through her skull. She wanted to get up and run, but she couldn’t muster up the strength. Warm blood oozed down her neck and shoulders from the crack in her skull.
Ciara’s hired strong-arm stomped over to Evelyn and hoisted her over his shoulder, then lugged her down a darkened corridor. She watched droplets of blood trailing them as he slogged his way toward the dungeons. She writhed against his grip, but it was no use.
At the bottom of the narrow staircase, the familiar dank air enveloped Evelyn. The brute entered one of the cells deep within the tunnels and flung her to the ground. Evelyn took the opportunity to crawl toward the exit, but he grabbed her by the skirt of the dress and dragged her over to the wall where he proceeded to fasten cuffs to her wrists and ankles. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the goon positioned a cinderblock between her feet and removed one of the clubs from his belt strap. Ciara had been serious when she’d given him orders to bludgeon her …
“Please don’t do this,” begged Evelyn. “Whatever she’s paying you, I promise it’s not worth it. I’m Evelyn of Gorias, and I’m a dragon slayer. If you kill me there won’t be anyone to slay the winged beast when it turns on Verubri and all of Galicia. Look at what it did to the village. It will come for the castle. Mark my words!”
He grunted out a laugh as he stood over her, yanking off her boots and tossing them away. “Your bloodline is a disgrace to Galicia.”
Before Evelyn could come back with any persuasive retort, the brute swung his club against her left foot. The cracking sound alone was enough to make her vomit down the front of her dress. The pain, that was another story. Ciara’s goon didn’t spare any time moving to Evelyn’s right foot, slamming down the club with the force of a wrecking ball. That time, Evelyn passed out …
10
Ciara returned to the celebration, knowing her lackey was handling the Evelyn situation and that he’d keep their arrangement secret.
“My lady!” The prince dashed over and lifted Ciara, swinging her around. “Where have you been? I’ve missed gazing upon your beautiful radiance!”
He kissed her neck with an unfamiliar tenderness. Ciara was surprised, but not at all fooled. She knew the true nature of this demon. Now that he believed she was carrying his seed, his entire attitude toward her had shifted. He was treating her like a princess and catering to her like she was a delicate flower. All to protect what he believed to be his precious heir.
She smiled sweetly as he set her back down. “My lord. It’s quite a celebration you’ve put on.”
“Wait until you see what we do for the wedding, my lady!” He beamed, the golden flecks in his eyes glittering.
“I’m so honored, my lord. But I fear my condition has me a bit fatigued.”
Prince Kieran whistled for two watchmen, then ushered Ciara away from the bustle of the guests. “My apologies for overwhelming you, my lady. Let’s get you to your chambers so you may rest.” He placed his hand over her stomach, smiling. “We must take extraordinary care of my child.”
Ciara bowed her head. “Thank you, my lord. I believe the first months are the most strenuous. I should be stronger soon.”
“Of course. These are the most important days. You must rest now.” He kissed her cheek and gave the two watchmen strict instructions to safely accompany the mother of his heir to her chambers.
“Bring her anything she requests,” he told them.
Ciara bid the prince goodnight and left the reception hall flanked by the two men.
On the way up the grand staircase, Ciara made sure the supplementary length of her red gown found its way under one of the watchmen’s boots, allowing her to feign a stumble. Both men caught her before she hit the marble. They hoisted her up in a split second and rushed up the stairs before anyone—namely the prince—detected what had happened.
At the top of the stairs, she yanked herself away and faced both men. She narrowed her eyes. “How dare you allow me to nearly fall to my death!”
Each of them nervously bowed their head in shame, but only one of them spoke up—the more confident lad. “Our apologies, your majesty. Your gown, as lovely as it is, happened to catch under my partner’s boots.”
Ciara could see this one would be more challenging to manipulate—handsome types usually were—so she focused on the other watchman. A rather gangly sort. He moved his hand back over his receding hairline, where droplets of perspiration had already formed.
“Is that so?” she sneered.
“Yes, it was my fault, my lady. I stepped on the gown.”
She grabbed his hand and started toward her chambers. “You come with me.”
The handsome watchman started to trail after them. “My lady?”
“Go back downstairs and attend to your duty, unless you want to suffer punishment as well.”
He didn’t even glance at his partner before turning around and stalking toward the staircase.
In Ciara’s chambers, she went straight to the seating area and stood by the fireplace, gesturing for the watchman to have a seat. He scurried over and sank into one of the large armchairs, which seemed to swallow him up. Ciara had him just where she wanted him.
“What’s your name?” she barked.
“Stanner,” he muttered.
“Let’s get something straight, Stanner. I’m in a highly advantageous position, carrying the prince’s heir and such. He considers me a valuable commodity. So if I were to mention how one of his men almost harmed his bride-to-be and unborn child, what do you think he would do?”
“I’d be executed.” He winced.
“And if I were to keep quiet and never mention this unfortunate circumstance again, everything would go on as usual. Correct?”
He nodded cautiously.
“But do you want things to go on as usual? With that partner of yours scapegoating you?” Ci
ara shook her head. “Nobody needs someone stabbing them in the back like that. Do they?” She paused, letting her words seep in.
Smiling, she glided over to the chair and stood behind Stanner, placing her hands on his tense shoulders. “You realize that because of my position, if I were to request something from the prince, he would oblige—without question. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The watchman twisted in the chair and stared at Ciara, his bug eyes growing wider as clarity came to him.
“I said, do you understand …”
“Yes, my lady,” he said, fidgeting.
She smiled and patted the top of his balding head. “Well done, Stanner. You’re not as foolish as you look. Perhaps there will be some use for you after all.”
He jumped up from the chair. “I’m quite sure you can find some use for me.”
“But if you’re to have any impact, what do you suggest we do about that pesky partner of yours?”
“Get rid of him?”
Ciara chuckled and brushed a soft kiss across Stanner’s dry lips. “Very good.”
He smiled, his cheeks turning red. “Perhaps you can have him removed, my lady?”
Stanner was just the type of man she needed under her thumb. “It will be the first thing I request. Now, regarding your future, Stanner … I’m going to need someone on the inside helping me obtain details of Prince Kieran’s attack strategy for Clovis and his men. And that’s where you come in.”
He cleared his throat. “You mean a spy? Why?”
Pinching his hollow cheeks, she shook her head. “You needn’t concern yourself with the reasons why. You need only to focus on your new assignment, which is to report back to me at the end of each day with details of their discussions. That is all you need to know. If you stay loyal to me, you’ll continue to live. And perhaps one day even thrive.”
He smiled and remained standing awkwardly before her. Ciara shooed him off with instructions to report back tomorrow evening.
The room was quiet except for the crackling flames licking the logs in the fireplace. Though summer solstice was nearing, the chill never seemed to leave Verubri Castle. Ciara thought about her brief time in Eshlan and the delicious warm sea breeze she’d experienced in Queen Boudicca’s magnificent castle. By now Clovis and his tribe of mongrels had undoubtedly taken over the place. She wanted it all for herself … And she would get it.
A thunderous blast came from outside and shook the balcony doors. Ciara dashed to the balcony to investigate, worried for a moment that Clovis and his tribe had launched a surprise attack on Verubri Castle. But it wasn’t an attack—off in the Vindius Mountains, a volcano had erupted. Glowing lava spewed from one of the peaks. Out of the fiery liquid, the silhouette of a winged creature flew into the night as though the volcano had spawned it. Streams of fire blew from its mouth, lighting up the night sky, as it rose high above the mountain peaks. The prince had sacrificed the villagers to awaken another of the Galician dragons.
11
Those early months of Ciara’s pregnancy were a whirlwind that left her head—as well as her stomach— spinning most days. But she was determined to keep on her path. With Evelyn out of the picture, she could focus on her plans.
Per their secret arrangement, the compromised watchman, Stanner, continued to deliver nightly reports on the prince’s discussions. Ciara took meticulous notes and spent hours developing her own course of action. The two main goals would be establishing herself within the kingdom of Verubri and securing the Eshlan estate. She needed to be as far away as possible when it was time to give birth to her child. Nobody could know the gender, even if the prince was already out of the picture.
The prince doted on Ciara, bringing flowers and jewels, fine silks and luxury items to pamper her changing body. He treated her like the princess she was soon to become. He had scheduled their wedding ceremony during the harvest moon. Ciara preferred to get the ritual over with and thought she’d look ridiculous in her gown since her belly would be round, but she smiled and praised Prince Kieran. Any time she complimented the prince, she found more gifts by her bedside.
During this time, the prince continued his weekly visits to the Vindius Mountains to do whatever it was he did there. That’s when Ciara would go down to the bowels of the castle for clandestine meetings with her lover, Olen. She brought him food and water, cleaned him up, and did her best to make him comfortable during his imprisonment. She promised his stay wouldn’t last much longer and urged him to hold on. Olen kissed her with intense passion and tenderness. She longed to be with him. But as much as she desired him, she didn’t want to risk the pregnancy. Their unborn child was the only leverage she had over the prince.
On her way out of the dungeons, she’d stop to check on Evelyn, who had been in a deep sleep for weeks on end. Initially, Ciara worried that her lackey had killed the girl, but every now and again Evelyn would moan or cry out. Ciara wasn’t sure why she cared about Evelyn’s wellbeing or why she continued dripping water and broth into her mouth to prolong her life. But something had compelled her, and so it became routine.
When it was time for the actual wedding ceremony during the harvest moon, Ciara’s new and frumpy chambermaid presented her with the most exquisite gown of silver that glimmered like a million stars. The train was so long, Ciara had ten chambermaids assisting. A little over four months pregnant, her stomach was indeed showing and Ciara was as radiant as the harvest moon that filled the night sky.
During the nuptials in the rose gardens, she gazed at the gargantuan diamond ring the prince had given to her as a wedding gift. It was large enough to secure a future if she were to run away from Verubri. But she had bigger plans. While she danced with Prince Kieran she whispered to him about Eshlan and the ocean view and how wonderful it would be for raising a child.
He kissed her neck, sending an icy chill across her scalp. “I’m afraid I must remain close to the Vindius Mountains, my wife.”
“Of course, my lord. I was only thinking of the child …”
“My son will be raised in Verubri Castle like all the previous kings. It is the destiny of my bloodline.”
Ciara smiled politely and assured him she was in full compliance. Though she was not.
By the third dance, Ciara had reached her limit of Prince Kieran and faked a few slip-ups.
“You must be tired,” he said. “I’ve been selfish, keeping you to myself.”
“Please keep me to yourself.” She giggled softly and gave him a kiss full of promise and hope—all pretend, of course. “I love you, my lord.” Ciara had practiced those words at least a hundred times until they sounded somewhat authentic. She pictured Olen standing before her as she spoke them, but she finished with a sour taste in her mouth.
The prince assisted her to her seat at the marriage table, his eyes sparkling with a vibrancy she’d never seen. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into the monster, but he was an entirely different man than the one she’d been tortured by on the ship.
He knelt before her chair at the table and held her hands. “I’m afraid my time will be divided even more than it has been these last few months. Tomorrow some of my men will head into the southern territories. It is time to take Eshlan. And once Clovis has been conquered, my men will move farther south into Russex.”
Ciara fought to repress her exuberance. Her heart hammered away in her chest, but she quickly tamped down her excitement and faked distress. “But we were only married tonight, and you’re going away so soon?”
The prince grinned and cupped her chin. “No, my wife. You misunderstand. I’m not going with them. I’ll remain in the castle and continue working from here. But when the time is right, I’ll join the men in the south.”
“When the time is right?” she asked.
He stood up, waving his hand. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
Ciara’s delight thunked to the ground like a rock. For one brief moment, she thought she’d be free. Prince Kieran leaned d
own and kissed her mouth, leaving behind a searing tingle.
“Do you think after you take Eshlan I could come down and stay in the estate? It is such a lovely location. And the warmer climate will be better for my pregnancy.”
The prince stared at Ciara, studying her carefully. Had she pressed the issue too hard? Perhaps the pregnancy was affecting her thinking …
He brushed a kiss across her forehead in a slightly patronizing manner, further fueling her paranoia that she had gone too far. “My dear wife,” he said, “after my men destroy Clovis and take over the estate, it will belong to the kingdom of Verubri, but it has been promised to Watlington.”
Watlington?
How had the tub of lard managed to convince Prince Kieran to give him the estate? The fake smile Ciara forced took even more strength than saying the words I love you just moments ago. But smile she did, for she couldn’t show her hand. If Watlington was the only obstacle standing in the way of Eshlan, she wasn’t too concerned. Annoyed, yes. But worried? Not in the slightest. She’d been meaning to get rid of the pest for a while now anyway.
“Watlington has been so good to you in his counsel, my lord. And I wish for an expeditious victory so you may reward him.” She rose and embraced Prince Kieran to hide the unstoppable disgust rolling up her throat.
The prince whispered in her ear, “I must come visit you tonight. I need you, my wife …”
She had crossed the thin line and needed to rapidly retreat. She would never allow the monster to touch her again. Especially not after the healer had restored her. He had been on his best behavior the last few months, but Ciara knew the second the bedroom door closed behind the prince, the demon would come out.
“The baby,” she said, stroking his arm sweetly. Though she was far enough along in the pregnancy, Ciara planned to use her condition as a way to ward off any intimacy with the prince. She told him, “It’s still too risky, my lord. But you know I don’t mind if you visit with any of the ladies-in-waiting. We’re married now and absolutely nothing can part us, my love.” Except death, she thought, grinning to herself.
