by RA Lewis
“Run away with me,” Cherise said through her tears, pushing back from him and searching his face. “We can run away then, find someplace where you and I can live together with Kaya, in peace.”
Hakon gave her a soft smile, full of love and understanding. He put his hands on either side of her face and gently kissed her, not caring about the tears that continued to flow down her cheeks. She felt as though her heart was both full and breaking inside her at his kindness.
“I’d love to, my darling, but we can’t. We have a duty.”
Cherise cried harder then, burying her face into the Valdiran leathers that he always wore. He smelled of dragons, wind, leather, and woodsmoke. He smelled wild and yet familiar, as if he was her home. She wished she could stay there forever, in his arms. Hakon stroked her back and whispered in her ear about how much he loved and admired her.
She was trapped. There was no way out. She had to do whatever her father decided even if it meant losing Hakon and what happiness they had managed to find together. And it wasn’t fair.
Chapter 7
Cherise swirled around the dance floor, her pale gold dress spun out behind her as she twirled, the music a crescendo in the background. Hakon was equally resplendent in Ethean style clothing, a close-cut dark green jacket with a gold waist sash and gold trim on the hem and cuffs. It was perfectly tailored and fit his broad shoulders nicely, and as Cherise twirled, she admired the figure he cut on the dance floor.
Other nobles danced around them, their attire creating a beautiful rainbow of colors. It reminded Cherise of a nest full of colorful dragons, each preening and flapping its wings to be noticed. She smiled at the mental image of the noble men and women around her roaring and flapping their arms like fledgling dragons.
“What are you grinning about?” Hakon asked as he drew her close once again.
“Oh nothing,” she said with a small laugh.
Tonight, she was light as a feather. She loved parties, but she especially loved this one because Hakon was by her side. She knew that their love was neither wise nor prudent, but she didn’t care. Her father kept giving her meaningful looks across the ballroom but she ignored him. The only person she had eyes for was the one holding her as they danced.
The song came to a close and she grabbed Hakon’s hand, tugging him off the dance floor and behind a hanging curtain into a small alcove, away from prying eyes. She put her back to the cool stone wall and pulled him to her, pressing her lips to his. They were both sweating, the room hot with the press of so many bodies, and from dancing multiple songs together. But she didn’t care. She didn’t mind the slightly salted taste of his lips as she drew his body against hers, feeling the hard planes of his body come in contact with her soft ones.
If this was all she was going to get, these few stolen kisses, these few private moments, then she was going to make the best of them. Every time the possibility of his leaving, of her losing him, of her being married off to some stranger crossed her mind, she shoved it aside violently and remembered the taste of his tongue and the feel of his hands as they roamed her hips and thighs.
Finally, they broke apart, each breathing heavily. Cherise looked into his eyes, now bright with desire and love. Her heart ached but she refused to acknowledge the reason for that ache. Instead, she pulled his head down and whispered in his ear.
“I love you, Hakon.”
“I love you too, Cherise,” he whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to the spot below her ear and just behind her jaw. It drew a small gasp from her, and she almost begged for him to kiss lower when a trumpet sounded from the ballroom. She stiffened as the sounds of panicked people reached her ears.
“What is that?” Hakon said, pulling away from her.
“I don’t know but we’d better go check,” she said sullenly, taking his hand and pulling him from the shadowed alcove.
The dancing and music had stopped. Noblemen and women were standing around, watching something that was occurring near the entrance to the ballroom. Cherise stood on her toes but couldn’t make out what was happening so she politely pushed their way through the crowd until they were at the front and could see what was going on.
A travel-worn and weary messenger in Ethean clothing stood before her father, handing the King a note. King Stanchon tore open the seal, quickly reading its contents, his face getting harder the further he read. Cherise’s heart began to pound in fear. When a messenger interrupted a ball, it was never good news.
“Please, everyone, continue enjoying the party,” the King said, gesturing for the band to resume playing. As the nobles around Cherise and Hakon began to move back onto the dance floor, and talk started up again, she pulled him closer to the dais where her father stood, still frowning at the letter. When they approached, he looked up at them.
“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re here, Hakon,” King Stanchon gestured for Hakon to climb the dais steps. The Prince looked to Cherise and she nodded, urging him to find out what was happening. As Hakon approached her father, Cherise felt a presence at her side. It was Geir, and he looked worried.
“Do you know what this is all about?” he asked, crossing his arms over his barrel chest. Cherise shook her head, worry churning in her gut.
“I have no idea. But it can’t be good news.”
They watched as the King put an arm around Hakon’s shoulders and spoke to him in a low voice as he walked the young Prince from the room. They exited out a side door, Lord Illeron following. The Spymaster looked over his shoulder at Cherise and gestured with his head for her to follow. Cherise squeezed Geir’s arm before following her father, Hakon and the Spymaster from the ballroom.
When she went through the side door, she found herself in a small antechamber. It held only an ornate mirror and a bench for waiting, a plush carpet on the floor. Her father still had an arm around Hakon’s shoulders but now Hakon was crying, his handsome face buried in his hands. Icy dread washed over Cherise. She stood rooted to the spot, unsure of whether she should run to Hakon and comfort him, or stay where she was. Her father had seen them dancing and noticed their closeness, but did he suspect how close they’d become?
“What happened?” she asked instead. Her father turned towards her, concern on his face.
“It seems that King Natan of the Valdir, along with his dragon, has died in battle,” he said somberly.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“No!” she uttered, unable to fathom what Hakon must be going through.
“The missive I just received says that while executing a particularly difficult aerial maneuver, an Askorian soldier shot an arrow into his dragon’s wing, causing her to swerve. In the close quarters of the high mountain peaks, it slammed them both into an unforgiving rock wall and they plummeted to their death. Sci was right behind them and saw it happen.”
“Is Sci okay?” She asked, knowing that Geir would be just as anxious to know his father was alright.
“Yes, he was able to fly out of range in time.”
“Was the mine freed? Or do the Askorians still occupy it?” Lord Illeron asked from where he leaned against the wall by the door.
“No, they weren’t able to free the mine.”
“What am I to do?” Hakon asked, interrupting the questioning about the mine. “Do I go to be with my people?” His voice was shaky with emotion, but the tears on his cheeks were already drying. Cherise felt a surge of pride at the sight of him being so strong, even in the face of such devastation.
“Commander Sci asks that you stay here, and continue to negotiate troops and resources for now. But I’m sure you will go to your people soon,” her father said, shooting her a look heavy with unsaid words.
She understood his meaning. Hakon wouldn’t stay here forever. He had a duty to his people, and with his father dead he would soon be crowned their king. Her heart sank in her chest. Their time was even more limited than she’d originally thought.
“May I go, your Majesty?” Hakon asked, straightening his spine.
“Yes, of course.” Her father waved them away and Cherise came forward to take Hakon’s arm and lead him from the ante-chamber and out into the deserted castle hallway.
As soon as they were out of eyesight of the King of Ethea, Hakon’s shoulders slumped, as if a great weight had settled there, and Cherise supposed that in a way one had. A weight that she knew would one day be on her own shoulders. She took his hand in hers and led him to that deserted corner of the library where she knew they would be alone and undisturbed. Geir had not followed, neither had any of her guards.
Once she had him seated, she dragged her own chair around the small table until their knees were touching, then she pulled his head to her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.
“I am so sorry, Hakon,” she whispered.
A soft sob escaped him and she gently stroked his hair and back as he cried for the loss of his father, his last living parent. Finally, after a few minutes, his crying subsided and he went quiet.
“What am I going to do without him?” he whispered. “I’m not prepared to become King.”
“Yes, you are, Hakon,” she said pushing him up so she could look into his eyes. “You are the bravest and kindest man I’ve ever known. You will be the best King the Valdir have ever had. I know it in my bones.”
He looked at her, his mouth hanging slightly open. And then he was kissing her, desperate and passionate kisses, his need clear as he pulled her across the small gap between them and settled her across his lap, pulling her skirts up so she could straddle him.
Cherise gasped at his sudden passion, his nearness and the unexpected fire that seemed to run through her at his touch. But she gave in, trying to convey every ounce of love she had through each touch and kiss.
When they finally parted, they were both panting with desire and need. Cherise stroked his face, pushing his silver battle braids back from his forehead and kissing it. He closed his eyes, his hands tightening on her waist.
“I’m going to ask your father for permission to marry you. I am a King now, no longer a Prince. Perhaps that will be enough to sway him.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine and hope bloomed bright in her chest.
“You’d better have a plan to win this war then, my King,” she said, bending to kiss him slowly, sensually on his already kiss-swollen lips. “Because he won’t give me to you easily.”
“I already have a plan.”
Chapter 8
Cherise stood by the door to her father’s study, Hakon standing nervously beside her. Her father was busy penning a letter to this noble or that and he had asked them to wait while he finished. But the waiting was killing her. All she wanted was for her father to throw his arms wide and accept Hakon as her betrothed, but she knew that was not likely. So, she stood as patiently as she could, her face downcast, staring at the floor.
Hakon was nervously fiddling with a loose thread on his tunic sleeve. Today he was back in his red Valdiran leathers and she knew he wore them like armor. He was expecting a fight, just as she was, and he’d come prepared. They’d stayed up most of the night talking about what they wanted, what their future would be like, and how best to convince her father that they deserved to be wed. Hope had spurred them on, and even now, hope was what kept them rooted to the spot, waiting on the whim of a King.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, King Osian Stanchon put down his quill, stoppered his ink bottle and set aside his letter to dry. Then he looked up at them and interlaced his fingers on the desk before him.
“What can I do for you today, Hakon?” His voice was very business-like and it put Cherise on edge. Hakon cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“Well, your Majesty, I wanted to speak with you about the matter of your daughter,” he began. But the King held up a hand, stopping Hakon.
“If you are referring to the spoken agreement between myself and your father upon Cherise’s birth, then I regret to inform you that no formal documents were signed.”
“Yes, I know that. I understand that it was a verbal agreement only, but I believe that the marriage is a solid plan. It would serve to strengthen the bond between the Valdir and the Etheans. It would give the Valdir all the more reason to fight with your soldiers to free the Great Grey Mountains and Blackwater from Askorian control.”
“You have a point, young King,” her father said. Cherise’s heart skipped a beat at his words. “But how do you propose we end this war? If I make a marriage alliance with another country, then I’ll have their added military might at our backs. But I already have the Valdir’s loyalty.”
Hakon stiffened at those words and dread pooled in Cherise’s stomach.
“You make a good argument, your Majesty. But I believe that I know of a way to end this war once and for all.”
Her father sat back in his chair and gestured for Hakon to continue.
“Then do tell.”
Hakon cleared his throat before continuing.
“I propose to take a small force of fighters and fly north to Winterreach Castle, the capital of Askor, infiltrate it, and kill the King of Askor. No King, no war.”
Cherise’s blood froze in her veins. He hadn’t told her his plan to end the war, just assured her he’d come up with one. But not one that risked his life. She stepped forward.
“No, Hakon, you can’t-” she began, but her father raised a hand to stop her.
“No, Cherise. It is a good plan, a solid plan. And I’d like to see him attempt it.” The King of Ethea’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Hakon’s determined face. “Fine. You may marry my daughter, but only once the war is over. Until then, you may consider yourselves betrothed.”
At those words, Cherise’s heart soared, all thoughts of Hakon risking his life gone with the simple knowledge that he was hers. She was practically dancing on her toes with excitement.
“Thank you, your Majesty,” Hakon said, bowing low, a grin spreading across his face. Cherise burst forward and threw her arms around her father’s neck, kissing his cheek.
“Oh, thank you, Father, thank you!”
Her father gave her a crooked smile and then waved them off.
“Now go. Hakon, I expect a full report tomorrow during the council meeting. You and your force will leave tomorrow night for your camp. And I will want regular reports back on your progress.”
Hakon nodded to the King of Ethea and then reached for Cherise. She beamed at her betrothed, joy filling her to the brim. Together, hand in hand, they left her father’s office and ran down the hall, both of them laughing and talking at once.
“Let’s go tell Kaya,” Hakon said excitedly.
“Oh, yes, let’s,” Cherise agreed. Together, they ran through the halls and out through a side door on the first floor. Ever since she’d flown them back to the castle after the bandit attack, Kaya had stayed on the castle grounds. Cherise’s father had allowed her and Enola, Geir’s dragon, to stay in one of the smaller parade grounds.
“Kaya!” Hakon said excitedly, running up to his lovely blue dragon who was napping in the sun. She opened one night-dark eye, speckled with stars, and looked them both over.
“What has happened, Hakon?” she said in her deep, rumbling voice.
“The King has agreed that I can marry Cherise,” he said breathlessly.
“That’s wonderful!” Kaya exclaimed and then snaked her head down to right in front of Cherise. “Welcome to the family, little one.” She grinned a toothy grin at Cherise who grinned back, putting out a hand to touch the dragon’s nose.
“Thank you, Kaya.”
“Shall we go for a ride?” Hakon asked, pointing to Kaya’s back. Cherise hesitated. She hadn’t really enjoyed her previous ride, but she was going to marry a dragon rider. She should probably get used to it. So, she nodded and took Hakon’s hand, letting him help her onto Kaya’s back. Once she was situated in the saddle, her legs tied into the leather straps, Hakon climbed up in front of her and she buried her face in his Valdiran leat
hers.
“Kaya, take us someplace private.”
Cherise smiled into Hakon’s back at those words but soon was gritting her teeth as Kaya launched them skyward, her great wings beating a staccato into the afternoon air. Soon they leveled out, however, and Cherise knew she’d have to get used to heights, so she cracked an eye, her stomach swooping inside her. One moment it was in her toes and the next it was in her throat. She could barely string two thoughts together as they winged north along the coast, the sparkling blue of the ocean on their left, the vast green of the Deep Glen Forest to their right.
It wasn’t long until Kaya was descending, circling down until they landed in a small cove with a white sandy beach. She landed with a great thump, a cloud of sand flying high and settling into Cherise’s elaborately braided blonde hair.
She slid down off of Kaya’s back, grateful to be on the ground and fought the temptation to kiss the sands below. Instead, she took a few wobbly steps towards the crashing surf and took deep breaths. Her stomach settled as Hakon slid down behind her and approached.
“I figured we could spend some time alone here, just us,” he said softly in her ear, snaking his arms around her. She smiled, feeling much more grounded and at peace.
“It’s perfect, Hakon.” She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her fingers to his well-muscled back, enjoying the feel of him as she pressed her face into his chest. His arms engulfed her and she relaxed, hope and joy and fear all mixed together inside her.
They were alone, truly alone for the first time. Kaya flew up to the top of the cliffs that rose above them and lay there on the rocks, sunning herself, eyes closed. No one was here to watch them. No one was here to stop them. She looked up into Hakon’s bright blue eyes and saw desire there. She felt the same flame kindle in her own stomach and she took his hand, leading him to a particularly white stretch of beach. There, she slowly removed her outer dress, unlacing the bodice and slipping it’s blue satin folds from her shoulders. Hakon’s eyes roved over her as she disrobed down to her underdress. He drew in a breath when the fabric finally slid to the sand.
