The Reluctant Lord (Dragon Lords)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “It is a good year,” Bochman agreed. “Many blessings. The gods smile on us.” The elder looked at the sky and then to Vlad. “Perhaps you should go fetch her. The other couples would surely like an opportunity to receive the king’s blessing.”

  Vlad looked at his uncle for direction and the king nodded once. Bochman was impatient by nature and a stickler for tradition. Though he would say nothing about Clara’s arrangement, Vlad knew the elder did not personally approve of the special treatment bestowed on the alien noblewoman.

  Vlad obeyed, going inside the tent to retrieve his bride. He went to the flap, pushed it open an inch and said through the gap, “Clara?”

  “You may enter,” she answered calmly.

  Vlad found her seated on the edge of the bed. She wore the enormous gown of her people. The gem-encrusted skirt was wide at the hips to give support to her elbows. Though she did not wear the wig, her hair had been pulled around the top of her head to give a miniature version of the wig’s conical effect. Her face had been unnaturally paled with a white sheen of cosmetics, giving canvas to the purple on her lash and brows. The color brought out the brilliance of her eyes. She’d painted her lips and cheeks a false shade of deep red.

  “I left you a gown. Did you not see it?” Vlad gestured to the trunk where the garment lay neatly folded and seemingly untouched. He knew her culture was different than his, but he’d been eager to see her dressed as a Qurilixen lady. The gown he’d given her matched the dark purple tunic he now wore. The seamstress, Arianwen, had been a friend of his mother and still lived in the village where he’d been born.

  “It was not presented to me directly and, this being a proper ceremony, I thought it best to dress as a lady for the event.” Clara didn’t move but for the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the subtle gesture of her mouth when she spoke. Her tone was even and tranquil.

  Vlad looked at the gown. It was one of the finest his people had to offer—the gown of a noblewoman. Arianwen had sewn it by hand, each stitch, and Clara acted as though it was a rag not befitted to her station.

  He tried to be understanding, tried to make excuses as to why she might be so adverse to it, but in the end, the truth was her rejection of it hurt. As he looked at her, he began to question the gods’ decision. How could they bind him to one of the most refined, reserved, frustratingly perfect creatures in the universe? Every action seemed practiced, every gesture planned. She was elegance and grace and he desperately wanted wild and passionate. He wanted her to yell if she felt like yelling. He wanted her to smile if she was happy, laugh if she was so inclined. He wanted passion not perfection.

  “Are you coming out?” he asked. By the way she was seated on the bed he guessed she’d been dressed for some time. Vlad watched her face. Was she scared? Excited? Bored? He couldn’t tell. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I was waiting for my summons.” Again, she didn’t move to stand.

  “They’re waiting for you to come break the crystal.” Vlad moved so he could help her to her feet. However, when he reached to take her arm, she lifted a fist into the air with her elbow bent. It took some hesitant gestures, but he finally realized she wanted him to hook her arm with his. Her hand did not touch him as he pulled her to standing. He felt the weight of the gown as he drew her fully to her feet. If he had his guess, he would say it weighed more than the ancient iron armor his people had used for battle in the centuries before centuries.

  Clara artfully untwined her arm from his without letting her fingers touch him. The gown’s skirt, by its very large nature, kept him from getting too close to her. She placed her elbows on the sides of the skirt, bent and rested on the frame. Her hands hung forward, limp. “I am ready.”

  Vlad wanted to ask about her composed demeanor but refrained. The two men awaited them outside and he was most eager to finish the ceremony to make her his wife. He led the way out of the tent, pausing only to hold open the tent flaps for her so she could maneuver herself under them. At her appearance, Bochman stiffened. The corner of the king’s mouth twitched ever so slightly before he caught himself.

  “King Llyr, Elder Bochman, may I present Lady Clara of Redding.”

  “Lady Clara of the Redding,” she corrected quietly.

  “Lady Clara of the Redding,” Vlad repeated. She nodded once.

  “Proceed,” the king instructed.

  Vlad slipped the glowing crystal from around his neck and presented it to Clara. Instead of taking it from him, she stepped back and lifted her arms to the side. She bowed her head, turning her eyes briefly to the ground indicating he should drop it into the dirt. He hesitated before letting it fall to the earth. He’d worn it for so long that his neck felt bare without its gentle weight.

  She hardly looked the stone. Vlad sighed in slight irritation. Why was she acting so cold and distant? He’d thought their time together in the marriage tent had gone really well. He wanted to touch her, kiss her. Only, the large skirt would hardly let him crush her against his body. The stiff frame seemed constructed of metal underneath to give it shape.

  Keeping her hands held out to her sides, she stepped forward. The crystal disappeared beneath the thick material. The skirt swung as she moved her leg beneath it. Suddenly, she blinked and swayed slightly before catching herself. She took a deep breath. Then, without speaking, she stepped back to reveal the broken stone. It had shattered like clear, thin porcelain.

  The elder said, as was customary, “Welcome to the family of Draig, Lady Clara of the Redding.”

  She nodded once, not meeting the man’s direct gaze.

  “Welcome, my lady,” the king said. “I hope you will enjoy your new home.”

  Again, she nodded without looking directly at the king’s face. “My family will need to be told of the ceremony’s completion. They will want to know I am officially married.”

  “I will send a man to the communications tower to transmit the happy news to your people’s ship,” Elder Bochman said. The king nodded in agreement that it should be done.

  Vlad smiled at the men and quickly thanked them for meeting them away from the ceremony grounds. As the two dragon shifters disappeared down the side of the hill, he turned to Clara. “Welcome to your new home world, wife. May we have many, many fine long years here. Together.”

  Relief filled him. The marriage was complete. Now his life could truly begin.

  * * *

  Clara was ashamed of herself. She’d been so determined to act like a lady, had even worn the gown to give herself confidence, and she’d only ended up embarrassing herself during the crystal breaking ceremony. As she’d stepped on the stone it had felt as if a spell was taken off her. She’d become lightheaded, nearly falling over. No wonder the elder had looked at her so harshly. He was a rigid man with a very stern face. The fact he’d shown displeasure on his otherwise blank expression said a great deal. She’d been unable to look him in the eye. It was a wonder Vlad still wanted her after such a faux pas.

  Then his words struck her. Many, many fine long years…together.

  Clara had no intention of spending many years on the planet, just the one her parents said was mandatory for the sake of her family honor.

  She didn’t trust herself to speak about it when her heart hammered in her chest as if it might escape. It was a curious reaction, one she needed to monitor privately and get under control. So, instead, she told him, “The majority of my trunks should already be on their way to your estate. I am told it is a castle. The ones inside the tent are ready for transport if you would like to call the servants. They will need to roll the material I placed on the floor to cover the ground. I hope it can be adequately cleaned. Obviously I cannot wear anything made from it now, but I’m sure some of the less fortunate families will make use of it.”

  Vlad arched his brow.

  “I know you claim you do not have poor, but I am sure someone can use the material,” she insisted.

  “I have someone in mind,” he answered.

>   “I am assuming you would like to leave for your home immediately as the ceremony is now concluded. The queen did not extend an invitation to the palace, which is understandable considering she has four sons getting married this day, so our duty here is finished. Unless I was misinformed about the steps involved?”

  “No, you’re right. We are married,” Vlad said.

  “Will we be traveling by ground or by ship to your home?” she asked.

  “We’ll be traveling by ceffyl.” His words were slow and guarded. She relaxed a little at his steady tone.

  “Ceffyl? I am unfamiliar with this type of transport but I am sure your carriage is adequate.” Since she knew the names of many spaceships, she assumed a ceffyl was a type of carriage. Clara nodded once. “Since there is no escort companion to attend me at the moment, I will wait in the tent while you gather the servants and call for the ceffyl.”

  Vlad glanced over her gown. “You should prepare for travel.”

  “I am prepared, thank you. I ate a lady’s portion of the fruit at dawn and will be sustained until midday. My trunks are packed. There is nothing left for me to prepare.”

  He gestured to encompass her clothing. “You might want to change for comfort. We’re heading up over the mountain paths…”

  “I am comfortable.”

  “Your gown is not practical for the journey. It is too heavy for the ceffyl to carry.”

  At that, she looked down. Her lips parted but no words came out. She nodded. There was comfort in the familiar weight of the gown, in knowing she carried a small fortune so close to her body.

  “The gown I provided for you will be more suited to travel. The servants will ensure your belongings are carted to the castle where they will be safe. You can put that dress with the others you brought.”

  Clara didn’t want to let the gown out of her sight, but she had little choice. Vlad had given her no reason not to trust him, yet she felt very isolated and alone on the foreign planet. But what could she say to such a direct command? If the transport they took could not take the extra weight, she couldn’t very well protest. She nodded again. “I will do what you wish, husband.”

  Clara didn’t meet his eyes as she turned toward the tent to do her duty. If she disobeyed, would he send her back to her family? She was married, but she was not pregnant. The idea caused a new fear to work its way inside her mind. What if he didn’t get her pregnant right away? Like all her sisters, she’d been tested by the finest Redde doctors, and knew she was fertile. She needed to be pregnant. It would show her family she’d tried and her parents would then allow her to come home. It was bad enough she did not plan on having over ten children, but to have none without a medical excuse?

  “My lady?” Vlad asked behind her.

  Clara realized she’s paused outside the tent and quickly pushed the flap aside with the back of her wrist. Her new husband didn’t follow her.

  Chapter Six

  “I must refuse.”

  Vlad frowned at Clara’s words. His wife had changed from her gown into the one he’d given her. For the longest moment, he could barely speak as he gestured to where the stable boy held the ceffyl in place with a long rope. She looked like a true Draig noblewoman...almost. The gown was much more appealing to him than the steel frame of her previous one. However, she had left the bodice loose and the cross laces at the side untied. This caused the gown to hang limp down the length of her body. Only when the breeze pressed the deep purple material against her side did he detect the hint of her true curves. Her hair was still swept around her head in a cone shape and her face remained painted. None of the tresses were out of place, no wisps blowing in the breeze around her falsely pale skin. Draig women normally left their hair long and loose, like how her hair had looked the night before. The memory caused his insides to clench.

  “I will not sit upon that creature.” Clara stared at the large ceffyl being presented before her. A rope was tied to the horn growing from the center of its head. The skin was stretched like parched earth over a wide back. A blanket had been set on the animal, something the beast did not appear to appreciate. The creature bucked its head and the gesture shook its entire body. The stable boy held the horn down with the rope. Though hardly necessary as the animal was tame, Vlad thought the restraint might ease what he imagined would be a lady’s fears.

  “He will calm in a moment,” Vlad assured her. As if to protest his point, the ceffyl poked out a long thin tongue, made a strange gurgling noise and stamped his hooves. “He will not hurt you.”

  Clara took a deep breath. “Of course he won’t hurt me.”

  Vlad watched, confused as his wife stepped in front of the twitching beast. If the animal kicked forward it would break her in two. He started to stop her, but she seemed so confident in what she was doing.

  Clara lifted her hand and held the inside of her wrist before the ceffyl’s face. With one toss of the head, the creature could have impaled her on his horn. She waited for the beast to stop yanking against the rope. Reptilian eyes blinked and Vlad calmed. Quietly and with much concentration, she said, “He doesn’t like the blanket.” She stepped closer. “The rope is unnecessary.”

  “Clara, what are you doing?” Vlad asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to spook the ceffyl with his bride so close to the animal.

  “Asking permission.” The purple in her eyes deepened by small degrees as she looked at the back of her hand. It was a subtle change, but one his shifter eyes detected easily. If he wasn’t mistaken, a ring of dark green wrapped her pupils. She turned her eyes to the boy who held the animal. “He will take us in exchange for a plant that has white petals radiating out from a light blue center, and what looks to be a fuzzy brown stem.”

  “A solarflower?” the stable boy asked, unsure as he looked to Vlad.

  “Ah, so you have such a thing. Wonderful. Produce this plant and then we may go.” Clara dropped her wrist and stepped away from the beast. “And please remove the rope and blanket. He has no intention of leaving us. He only asks for the solarflower.”

  The stable boy began doing what the lady asked by pulling the blanket off the animal’s back.

  “He told you he wanted a solarflower?” Vlad asked in a combination of disbelief and surprise.

  Clara drew her brows together. It was a small movement, one that would have been easy to miss had he not been watching her. “If that is what the plant is called, then yes.”

  “How are you not afraid? I thought you did not go outdoors?” Vlad placed his hand on the animal’s back and patted lightly. He glanced at the stable boy who was watching the couple closely. Upon meeting his gaze, the boy quickly looked away.

  Clara looked up the mountain. “I will manage being in the out of doors. Nature does not frighten me. I have had my sun shots. They’re good for the next two years.”

  “I meant the ceffyl,” he clarified. Vlad knew he should stop talking in front of the boy, but he had never really had the natural decorum of timing that his adoptive brothers possessed. They had grown up being wary of servants’ ears. In his childhood, everyone heard everything and didn’t care, it was loud and chaotic and he missed it terribly.

  “We have animals and plants inside my home—in the menagerie, the aquarium, the animal containment, the garden spot and walled courtyards.” She turned to the boy. “Please go fetch this flower.”

  “Lord Alek does not want the ceffyls eating solarflowers,” the stable boy said as he pulled the rope from the animal’s center horn. “It makes them sick if they eat anything else for several days and we have to starve the flowers out of them.” Then guiltily, he looked at Vlad. “I think one of the beasts got out and ate some of the queen’s flower patches. I can’t be caught picking another one or I’ll be blamed for the whole lot.”

  Vlad nodded in understanding. “Yes. Best not to pick the flowers and draw it to the attention of the queen. May they grow back before she notices.”

  The boy sighed in relief.

  “T
hen we must walk. Those were the ceffyl’s terms for passage.” Clara nodded at the animal as if he could understand the gesture and made her way back inside the tent.

  The stable boy looked questioningly at Vlad, completely confused by what had transpired. Vlad gestured him away. “Take him back to the stables. I’ll fetch another in a moment.”

  He didn’t wait to see if the boy obeyed before following his bride into the tent. The thin white walls were illuminated with daylight. Crossing to the makeshift room, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed as she had been before, waiting quietly.

  “What happened?” It was all he could think to ask her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The animal. If you did not want to ride you should have just said.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “It sounds as if you think I’m...” She paused. Her chest lifted slowly a couple of times, as if she tried to control her breathing. “Are you saying I’m lying? Ask the ceffyl yourself if you don’t believe me. I do not see the issue. His terms were simple.”

  “The creature spoke to you?” Vlad didn’t intend his question to sound so doubtful, but he’d been around the animals his entire life. He’d never heard of anyone actually communicating with them, at least not in such a way. If anyone could read an animal it would have been his brother Alek, and even then the man was just trained enough to see the signs and read their gestures. Alek couldn’t tell what the beasts were actually thinking.

  “We communicated, yes.” Clara held very still, though he detected microexpressions beneath her calm. He wondered at the sheer will it would take to keep all emotions so well hidden. He couldn’t do it, wouldn’t even attempt to try. She continued, “I showed him we wanted passage into the mountains. He showed me he wanted solarflowers and no restraints. We came to an agreement.”

  Vlad closed the distance between them. She stiffened as he reached for her hand, but didn’t stop him from lifting her fingers up and back. He looked at her palm and inside wrist. Tiny blue veins threaded beneath her skin. Running the pad of his thumb over the delicate flesh, he felt her tremble. Though her face stayed composed, her pulse raced.