by Delia Castel
King Vulcan lowered himself to his throne. “Don’t keep the boy in suspense, dear. Spit it out and let him get on with the search.”
Her smile faltered. “My new governor of Austellus mentioned today he was to be mated to a she-dragon being chaperoned by his nephews.”
“Uncle Hertz is mistaken,” he said through gritted teeth. With a curt bow, he added, “Your Majesties, I must take my leave and commence the urgent mission to find and redeem Princess Snowdrop.”
King Vulcan’s expression softened. “You will not fail me.”
Polaris’ stomach twisted into knots of guilt and nausea and impending doom. He would find Princess Snowdrop, only to ensure she was safe and to discover the truth behind her disappearance.
First, he would need to rush to the headquarters of the King’s Regiment to give the order. Several troops of dragons needed to find the Princess before the sheriffs, who would likely send the poor young lady straight to the Queen. King Vulcan hadn’t brought up the trial in absentia, and Polaris wondered if the Queen had arranged it without informing her husband. Now that Polaris had mentioned it, she would likely suggest the King had known about the trial but had forgotten.
He met King’s glistening, sapphire eyes. “Your Majesty, I will not fail you.”
Chapter 11
Marigold wrapped Ella into a hug, wrenching her off the window seat. “I’m so glad you’re all right! When I heard you were here, I thought the worst.”
Berrin placed a hand on Ella’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you again. But what’s this about spying?”
Ella stepped out of Marigold’s embrace and ducked her head, pink suffusing her cheeks. “Last night, Lady Brimstone and Governor Hertz stormed into the kitchen and woke me up.”
Marigold’s heart twisted. Even Lord Arctos provided accommodations for his servants. No one ever slept in the kitchens, not even the lowest scullery maid. She turned to Berrin, whose expression was equally as stricken. While Ella told the story of being shaken awake and interrogated by two angry dragons, Marigold’s face drained, and her spirits tumbled into a pit of helplessness.
She had originally wanted to run away to Habilis and bring Ella along with her. But at the time, she had thought they were two human women, suffering under the tyranny of shifters. Since the violent revolution that deposed King Draco, Habilis was an unsafe place for non-humans, so Marigold had thought she and Ella would be safe there. But now, those plans were no longer valid, since she and Ella were both dragons of sort, and Ella clung onto that abusive home because it was her last connection to her dead parents.
“Lady Brimstone was furious,” said Ella, her eyes wide. “She said that you had stolen her daughters’ suitors, and that I had somehow orchestrated it. Her claws were out, ready to slice up my face, when Governor Hertz intervened.”
Marigold gaped. “He did?”
Nodding, Ella rubbed a spot on her arm, which Marigold assumed was where Lady Brimstone had dragged her out of bed, or whatever one could possibly sleep on inside a kitchen.
“Please join us for breakfast,” said Berrin. “You can tell us the rest while we eat.”
The family dining room was laden with platters of cold meats, sliced fruits, bread, fish, and a tureen of steaming porridge. Marigold inhaled the wonderful scents, and her stomach gurgled. Matheson sat at the head of the table, reading a scroll. Nanny stood over his shoulder, pouring a strange concoction into his pewter tankard. Matheson glanced up at her and grunted his thanks. Then, he turned his cold gaze to them at the doorway. “Ella… why are you here?”
Marigold stilled. A brute like Matheson would grab her by the neck and drag her out of the mansion. She glanced at Berrin, pleading with her eyes for him to intercede if Matheson became violent. Berrin nodded, a solemn glaze to his aquamarine eyes.
Ella wrung her hands. “Lady Brimstone and your uncle told me to spy on you.”
“And I suppose the consequences for you returning empty-handed will be painful.” He steepled his fingers.
“Yes.” She ducked her head.
“Tell your ugly stepsisters that if they paw at any member of this family again, they risk their actions becoming fodder for public humiliation.” He gestured at a seat.
Ella scurried into the dining room, her lips parted. “What did they do?”
The two women sat, and Berrin walked around the table to seat himself opposite. Marigold turned to Ella. “They were a bit forward last night in the dance hall.”
Matheson snorted. “That’s an understatement. I’ve never encountered such grasping she-dragons.”
“Oh, dear.” Ella stared at her plate. “Lady Brimstone is expecting the two of you gentlemen for tea at the end of the month.”
“Tell her I’ll be on my honeymoon, buried in my mate.” He leered at Marigold’s chest.
Marigold would have shot back with a retort, but she didn’t want to put Ella in the precarious position of having to cover up anything she had witnessed. She wasn’t sure if dragons could sniff out lies, so she thought it best to play along so that everything Ella reported would be the truth.
“Um…” Ella glanced from Marigold to Berrin. “I thought you two were together.”
Grinning, Matheson reached out and grabbed Marigold’s hand. “Goldilocks decided to choose the better dragon.” His gaze flickered to Berrin. “Isn’t that right, little brother?”
Marigold held her breath. She hoped Berrin would understand that underneath Matheson’s false swagger, he was playing a role.
Berrin flushed an angry shade of red and said through clenched teeth, “Yes, she did mate with the superior male.”
Matheson’s skin darkened to a shade brighter than his flame-colored hair. His lips formed a thin line, and he tightened his grip Marigold’s hand.
Marigold fought the urge to clench her teeth at his touch, noting that he felt nothing like Polaris. She glanced at Ella’s confused features and exhaled. While the brothers’ interaction made Marigold cringe, she was relieved that they were at least attempting to give Ella the misinformation she needed to report back to her stepmother and Governor Hertz.
Nanny placed a heaping plate of food in front of Ella and murmured something into her ear. Ella’s face lit up with joy, and Marigold’s heart twisted. She wondered if the servants had been surreptitiously helping Ella over the years. Days ago, when Marigold had met the young lady, she had demonstrated a vast knowledge of employment opportunities within the suburb of Florus. If she’d been accepting aid from local servants, it would make sense she would also know their gossip.
“What did they ask you to find out?” asked Berrin.
Ella chewed on a massive chunk of cured ham and swallowed. “Governor Hertz is confused. He thought you were a fugitive called Merry Gold, but the Sheriff says your name is Goldilocks. I did tell them that you introduced yourself as Marigold.” Her face twisted into an apologetic grimace. “Sorry about that, but they have ways of getting the truth.”
Marigold used the excuse of giving Ella a hug to wrest her hand from Matheson’s grip. “Please don’t apologize. It must be impossible to defy them.”
“They told me to find out the truth.” Ella glowered into her plate, clenching her cutlery with her fists. “That’s a fine way to thank someone who tried to rescue me.”
Marigold shot Matheson a helpless look. “Can’t anything be done about them?”
Matheson rubbed his temples, as though Marigold’s voice gave him a headache. He turned his gaze to Ella. “You’re eighteen, right?”
She nodded. “My birthday was three months ago.”
“I suppose Goldilocks and I could make you our ward when the King blesses our mating.” He reached for her hand again.
Marigold jerked away, grabbing at Ella. “What do you think?”
As expected, Ella refused, stating that she already had a plan to save herself. Marigold’s chest tightened like vines wrapping around her lungs. She supposed that if she had confided in anyone about her plan
to infiltrate Lord Arctos’ home and steal back her mother’s bracelet, she wouldn’t have been dissuaded, either. Lowering her gaze, she picked up a slice of bread and slathered it with butter. Then, she glanced at the other end of the table, noting the absent family member. “Where’s Polaris?”
Nanny placed a fresh pot of tea on the table. “Visiting the palace on urgent business.”
“I hope everything’s all right,” said Berrin.
Matheson smirked. “It’s so nice of you to worry about our dear brother.” He turned to Ella. “Did Uncle Hertz tell you what happened last night at the dance hall?”
Marigold chewed her bottom lip and glanced at Berrin, hoping he wouldn’t become suspicious of the tension between Polaris and herself the night before. Berrin gave her a heart-meltingly warm smile, and she relaxed. It didn’t matter what tales Matheson spouted. Nothing had happened last night, and no one would come between her and her mate.
The breakfast continued along those lines, with Matheson pretending to extol Marigold’s virtues, hinting how close she had become with his brothers. It was hard to defend herself without revealing anything incriminating to Ella. Her friend would be devastated to be forced to betray anything that would benefit Lady Brimstone and Governor Hertz. Poor Berrin looked like he wanted to climb over the table and thrash Matheson, and Marigold wished Polaris would hurry back from the palace to control his brother’s mocking commentaries.
As soon as Marigold was sure that Ella had eaten her fill, she stood. “I have to dance with King Vulcan this evening, and I really need some practice. Will you come with us to the ballroom?”
Matheson stood, beaming. He held out his hand. “Yes, I insist that you join us. Berrin, you may as well come along. Ella is going to need a partner.” Matheson’s fingers twitched, an impatient gesture for Marigold to take his hand. “Come along, my lovely mate.”
Marigold ground her teeth and placed her hand in his. A jolt of sensation shot from their joined fingers and traveled between her legs. She was about to snatch her hand away, when his fingers clamped around hers. Closing her eyes, she let out a shuddering breath. She didn’t know why the strange feelings occurred whenever she made skin contact with Berrin’s brothers and not the other way around, but Matheson’s touch made her feel infuriated rather than exhilarated.
Ella beamed at Berrin. “This will be just like when we were little. Remember that time we snuck into the ballroom and pretended we were King Vulcan and Queen Reina?”
Berrin forced a laugh, and Matheson led Marigold out of the dining room and into the hallway. While Berrin and Ella reminisced about happier times, Marigold hissed through gritted teeth, “What is the meaning of this?”
“Is it too much to want to get along with my mate? We will be bonded to each other for life.”
Marigold’s stomach churned, and acid crawled up her gullet, stinging the back of her throat. She could still feel Matheson’s hands around her neck, wringing the last bit of breath from her lungs. If he thought she would forget about his brutality so quickly, then he was more addled than she had imagined. After glancing over her shoulder to check that Berrin was keeping Ella distracted, she dug her fingernails into Matheson’s hand. “It’s just an arrangement.”
“But you see, when I take up your generous offer, no she-dragon could ever mate with me.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You will be my only option.”
She flinched, staring up into green eyes a shade darker than hers, which glinted with malice. There was no trace of distilled wormwood on his breath, so he wasn’t under the influence of strong alcohol. Narrowing her eyes, she whispered, “Have you been taking papaver?”
He chuckled. “Oh, how droll. Has my baby brother been telling tales?”
“He was making excuses for why you nearly choked me to death.”
Matheson dropped her hand and turned his head away. “About that—”
Ella squealed, grabbed Berrin by the hand, and ran ahead to the ballroom. “This place brings back such memories!”
Without looking at her, Matheson said, “I will take my leave.”
Marigold let out a weary breath. That hadn’t been an apology or even an expression of remorse, but at least he hadn’t try to justify his actions. Consorting with a violent man was against everything she believed in, but she had promised to save the family, and she would tolerate Matheson for the sake of Berrin and Polaris.
He turned to leave, but she grabbed his wrist. “We still need to convince King Vulcan that we’re a mated couple. Why don’t you come inside for a bit, practice dancing with me, and give Ella enough fake evidence so she can convince your uncle and Lady Brimstone that I’m not who they are after?”
Matheson stared down at the hand gripping his wrist, and Marigold let go. Huffing, he stepped into the ballroom. “If you insist.”
She curled her lip and followed him inside. He was as arrogant as Lord Arctos.
Chapter 12
Matheson’s heart soared as he stepped through the ballroom. Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the window shutters as though celebrating his good fortune. Marigold had invited—no—insisted that he stay. While it wasn’t an expression of her undying lust, it showed she was at least warming to him. “We need some music!” he exclaimed. “A nice, Habilis waltz.”
Berrin turned from where he was spinning Ella. “I’ll do it.”
Matheson stepped closer to Marigold. In a loud voice for Ella’s benefit, he asked, “Did you ever learn how to curtsy in Habilis?”
“I’m…” Marigold turned to Ella, who gave her a curious look with her head tilted to the side.
Matheson narrowed his eyes. It appeared that Marigold was closer friends with Ella than wth Berrin, who had played with the half-blood as a child. How did the pair know each other? Up until a few days ago, Marigold had been incarcerated in Boreas. There was no way they could have bumped into each other and made friends in such a short space of time.
It seemed to him that Marigold was feeling awkward at having to lie to a friend. He would ask how the two girls had met, but that would only reveal how little he knew of Marigold.
After an awkward moment Marigold said, “My mother had just started teaching me how to curtsy, but rebels stormed our mansion.”
Ellis eyes widened. “Were your parents killed?”
Marigold bowed her head, and Matheson resisted the urge to place his hand on the small of her back for comfort. This had to be some kind of act. She-dragons were never so sweet and vulnerable. Even Ella, who wasn’t even a full-dragon, and who he could not deny was in a terrible situation had a heart of steel beneath her fragile exterior. Why else would she have refused their assistance?
The orchestra box started, and Matheson placed a hand on Marigold’s shoulder. “Forgive us, Ella. My mate finds such talk upsetting.”
Ella rung her hands. “I’m sorry—”
Matheson spun Marigold around and swept her into a waltz. For someone who could only dance a jig, her steps were light and fluid. “Polaris taught you well.”
Fire blazed in her eyes. “How do you know it wasn’t Berrin?”
“My older brother may have a sword hilt up his backside, but he still knows what to do with a lady.” He smirked at Berrin, who was stumbling about the dance floor like a simpleton with Ella. Marigold followed his gaze, her face devoid of expression. He wondered if she wished she was in his clumsy arms. A pang shot through his chest. If he hadn’t been under the influence the evening they had met, things might have gone differently. “Jealous?”
Instead of answering, she stared at their feet.
Matheson’s nostril’s flared. How dare the wench ignore him! He spun her around, making her eyes widen. A thrill shot through his insides, making him smirk. She had to focus on him now. As the music reached its crescendo, he swung her from one arm to the other, marveling at her shocked expression. For a servant girl, she certainly knew how to move. She would be even more magnificent writhing underneat
h him, crying out her pleasure.
When he had subdued her, he returned to the box step, pulling her close. His fingers, which grazed her shoulder blades over her borrowed linen shirt, longed to caress her bare skin. “What is this effect you are having on me, wench?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped.
He chuckled, making a show of flaring his nostrils. “I can smell your arousal.”
Her pretty features hardened. “That’s doubtful, since this entire charade is because you’re not even a full dragon.”
The words hit him like an elbow to the gut, and he stiffened. Forcing a suave smile, he said, “You can rectify that. If we leave now, I’ll be able to shift by lunchtime.”
“I doubt you’d last that long,” she spat.
Matheson raised his brows. He should storm out, telling her that exchanging barbs with a servant girl was beneath the dignity of the future Lord Auburn. Or make a barb about how she had taken advantage of an innocent fledgling and was now moving onto a bigger, more lucrative catch. Instead, he curved his lips and drawled, “Is that a challenge?”
“It’s a statement of how you fall short compared to your brothers.”
He growled low enough to not be heard under the music. “You should treat your mate with more respect.”
She smirked. “As soon as he’s finished dancing with Ella, I will.”
“What would you call your burgeoning liaison with Polaris?”
“There’s nothing going on between us.”
“That’s not what I saw last night.”
“I don’t know what you imagined, and I don’t care. I’m committed to Berrin, and you need to stop trying to ruin things for him.”
Matheson tamped down his anger and continued their waltz. He did not understand this she-dragon. Most had the good sense to work out that with his title and inheritance, he had the better prospects of his brothers. He glared at Berrin. The little fool had probably told her about his curse. That would explain her hostility. He tightened his lips, steadying his breath so as not to make a scene in front of Ella for her to report to Uncle. It wasn’t as though he wanted Marigold. Compared to human women, she was on the better side of average. His papaver-fueled illusion of Lilac was far more enticing.
