The Seeking Series Box Set

by D. R. Grady

  A massive structure loomed, resembling the castle where she lived. This palatial expanse showed signs of recent repairs. Impossible to tell the color of the building, which more resembled a palace.

  It appeared as grand as Montequirst. The horses halted outside a sweeping staircase that led to an entrance awash in lights. So bright she squinched her eyes shut until the pain waves dissipated.

  The bindings keeping her in the saddle were removed, but not those around her wrists and ankles. She couldn’t help the snarl that arose. The man backed off but held his ground. Stefana intended to kick him with her bound legs, but the second man hurried forward to grab her like a sack of turnips. She screeched.

  The rain beat down on them so hard no one heard. Her horse barely waited for her to alight before he trotted away. The first man caught his bridle and stayed him, before snatching the other reins. Those mounts didn’t boast the fineness of the one she rode.

  Whoever carried her took the stairs two and three at a time and entered the palace. Awash in brilliant light, so luminescent it could only be powered by a steady current, not candles. Everywhere the eye landed, beautiful things beckoned.

  An image of that outhouse and the forlorn candles set a small flame flickering deep within her. Stefana knew of only one man odious enough to enjoy this sort of lifestyle when those he was responsible for lacked basic necessities.

  The man carrying her didn’t hand her off to someone else, nor offered her time to compose herself. He instead hauled her through massive, ornately carved doors into a room as spacious as Aern’s domain. It soared at least three stories high, intricate woodwork towered with it, while the copious amount of gold scattered around the room gleamed with opulent tackiness. In the center of the room stood the odious man himself, and Stefana’s stomach squelched. Her spine stiffened though. She might be numb, aching, shivering, and sopping wet.

  Yet she would not give in.

  “What have you done to her?” King Ostard, the idiot himself, barked this at the man carrying her.

  “It’s raining.” The man dumped her on the floor in front of Ostard, but the kidnapper’s lack of fear likely stemmed from the fact he stood a head taller than the king and possessed greater width of shoulders. He was not Aasguard, but shared the size.

  “What does the weather have to do with the condition of my bride?” Ostard’s scary eyes narrowed.

  She gagged at the word bride.

  “Not your bride,” a new voice answered and gasps filled the room. Stefana finally noticed an assembly of people, dressed as though they were attending a ball, or perhaps a wedding.

  She had no time to give in to despair however, because Aern, shrunken from his usual massiveness, clumped into the room. He knocked over several knickknacks that crashed to the floor in his wake.

  Lajos, eyes hard and cold, stalked after him with an innate dignity she admired.

  The Aasguard and dragon had been drenched by the same storm, but it had not hindered their journey, and both already appeared dry around the edges. Her heart expanded at the welcome sight of the two warriors.

  She grimaced though as more water sluiced from the hem of her ruined gown. Rivulets of water traced down her back from her straggling, water-logged hair.

  Ostard rose to his full height, which might have been impressive, if Aern and Lajos hadn’t been standing there. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “You were informed of our laws. No woman in Montequirst will ever be forced into marriage.” Aern’s cultured tones, and the fact the dragon spoke this idiot’s language, didn’t seem to impress Ostard.

  “She’s not in Montequirst now.”

  “Princess Stefana, do you wish to marry this man?” Aern bowed to her, while Lajos freed her from the bonds and helped her to her shaky feet.

  “No.” She cried out as sharp pains replaced the numbness. A wave of weariness made her sway.

  “Stefana, the princess of Montequirst, is subject to the laws of our land, as is every citizen. Therefore, she chooses whom she will wed.” Aern expanded and grew to his normal size and shape.

  A most welcome sight. The assembled people shrank from the sight of the massive dragon in their midst. Wise.

  “You, Ostard, have defied our laws and are hereby subject to them.”

  Ostard sneered. “You’re in my land now, dragon. I can do whatever I wish.”

  “I, Aern, the dragon of Montequirst, and enforcer of the forced marriage law, pronounce you guilty of kidnapping the princess of Montequirst with the intent of forcing her to marry you.” He turned to Lajos.

  “What do you pronounce?” The dragon remained dignified.

  “Guilty.” Lajos didn’t hesitate as he steadied her. Her body trembled to the point she feared she might collapse. Not ideal in this situation. Her mother would be appalled.

  The thought of her mother did lighten her mood however.

  “Stefana, what is your pronouncement against King Ostard?”

  “He kidnapped me with the intention of forcing me to marry him.” She gagged. “Guilty.”

  “You, King Ostard are pronounced guilty as Stefana, our princess, has no intention of marrying you.”

  “She doesn’t have a choice.” Ostard’s eyes narrowed on her.

  Aern’s snort disintegrated a section of the fancy carpet. Ostard leapt back.

  “Stefana, and every unwed woman in Montequirst, has a choice in who she marries now.”

  The man who had carried her inside crept up with what looked like the intention of snatching her.

  Aern breathed on him.

  The man dissolved into nothing upon the infusion of dragonfyre. The elaborately clad people panicked.

  Ostard stupidly drew his sword.

  A heartbeat later, the hiss of an unsheathed Aasguard sword halted the chaos as the people stared. The fierce warrior sliced through the air once. Ostard collapsed, dying on the magnificent carpet, his hand clasped over his mortal wound.

  “You have been sentenced to death for stealing one of our national treasures.” Lajos’ pronouncement was scarier than Aern’s. Perhaps because of the emotion that throbbed there.

  Lajos scooped her into his arms where he gathered her close to his warmth. “She belongs to Montequirst and will return to her home.”

  Had lips just brushed her temple? In her frazzled, bedraggled state, Stefana couldn’t be certain.

  Aern waited until Ostard died before he turned to follow Lajos out of the huge reception room. “Do not ever try to steal another woman, child, or man from Montequirst. This is your only warning.”

  An older man stepped forward. “Are you declaring war on us?”

  “Only if you seek that which does not belong to you.” Aern left the room at a dignified pace, but he still managed to knock over a fancy vase. It smashed into a thousand shards and for some reason, caused a sorry case of the giggles within her.

  “We must return her to the castle immediately.” Lajos’ arms tightened as he strode out of the well-lit palace into the driving rain.

  “Yes. She needs sustenance and warmth.” Aern didn’t sound happy, and this quelled Stefana’s giggles.

  For which she was grateful.

  Lajos climbed onto Aern as though he’d been doing so for years. Perhaps he had been riding a dragon for years, but not the likes of Aern, and not with her securely clasped in his arms. He settled her in front of him and wrapped both arms around her.

  “You two ready?” Aern lifted off as soon as they gave their consent.

  Huge leathery wings flapped as they left the putrid air of the Land of Ostard behind. Aern soared into the nighttime sky. Rain beat at them, but she’d been soaked for hours so it made little difference.

  Yet she gladly welcomed Lajos’ heat behind her. He anchored her tight against him, as though seeking to infuse her with as much warmth as possible.

  Traveling via Aern as opposed to a horse proved much quicker. They flew in a straight line, whereas on ground one had to travel via roads u
nless you wanted to fall into a ditch or over a cliff. The land between here and Montequirst was fraught with such pitfalls, a vastly untamed territory.

  She frowned. The air should have been crisp and fresh, instead of putrid. She had to swallow a few times to keep the nausea at bay. Where was Montequirst’s clean air? It should have been plentiful.

  “What’s wrong?” Lajos’ question held a sharp edge.

  “On the way, I knew when we’d left Montequirst due to the stench.” She continued to think this over as she recounted the shift in air.

  While she couldn’t see her bodyguard’s face, she was rather in intimate connection to his body, so she felt his muscles tighten. Not wanting to think too hard about her close proximity to his person, she shoved those thoughts away.

  “Are you certain it was a decay smell?”

  “No, I’m not certain. I was tied, and gagged, and laying sideways on a horse in near freezing temperatures wearing only a court gown. One of my captors eventually gave me this cloak.”

  Lajos promptly removed the cloak. He let it drift away and immediately the fresh air of home beckoned. He replaced it with her own cape.

  “That’s no way to treat a lady.” Lajos’ afore mentioned muscles tensed another notch. His ensuing growl was reminiscent of the dragon who flew them home.

  “No, they should have known better.” Aern’s growl matched the Aasguard’s. His wings continued steadily as they hurtled through the chilly air.

  Lajos shielded her from much of the wind and rain so her return trip contained far more comforts. How Aern managed to fly through the pounding the wind provided, she didn’t know. His mammoth size must work in his favor in this instance.

  He circled a large structure she recognized, spiraling down toward it in a lazy circle. Her breath caught as she viewed her home.

  Heart racing, she took in the familiar air, the welcoming lights, and the prospect of her own bed. All of them a luxury in the wake of her miserable experience. And it wouldn’t surprise her if her mother made war on Ostard.

  Of course, the man was dead, so that might be difficult.

  Speaking of her parent, Stefana recognized the loudest shriek and pattering feet when Aern settled on the flat tower nearest her bedchamber.

  She slid off his back with the bracing aid of Lajos. He dismounted with far more grace and skill. Despite being every bit as wet as her. Not that the man looked any different.

  Stefana stepped up to Aern and threw her arms around him. “Thank you for rescuing me, Aern.”

  The dragon nuzzled her. “You’re welcome, Princess. I will always find you if you are taken from us.”

  A lump formed in her throat, but a good one. She hugged him again before her mother latched onto her, barking orders and issuing commands with the air of a seasoned commanding officer.

  Stella separated her from the dragon and warrior, hurrying Stefana into the castle with speed and alacrity. Perhaps due to the lack of Lajos’ heat, she shivered now, feeling the effects of the cold and rain and desperately wished for dryness and warmth.

  Her mother and maid tucked her into a bathtub of such heat. It sent pain through her again, but after a few moments, her body adjusted. Once the initial shock wore off, she relaxed into the surrounding heat, yet strangely, she missed Lajos’ warmth.

  Where did such silly thoughts hail from? Surely she wasn’t thinking like one of the scullery maids whose affections skittered from man to man. As the princess, she needed to be far more circumspect. So many in their country looked to her and Raene as examples, and Stefana did not fancy steering an impressionable youth in the wrong direction. That way lay sheer folly.

  “Princess, I’m going to wash your hair.” Her maid, Olga, quivered.

  “Thank you, Olga.”

  Quivering wasn’t an uncommon state for Olga. She had first come to Stefana a year ago. No one knew much about her. Stefana wasn’t convinced she even hailed from Montequirst.

  The maid did a stellar job, but Stefana made note to speak to Raene about her in the morning.

  Her best friend sped through the doorway just as she thought of her. “Stefana, are you okay?” Queen Raene was petite with auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Ostard had tried for her first, only to learn she had safely wed Vidar, an Aasguard warrior.

  “Yes. It was a miserable experience.” She swallowed because even thinking about the horrific journey, much less wedding Ostard, produced traumatic memories she’d prefer to forget.

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through this.” Raene fretted in sync with Olga.

  “I held fast to my belief that Aern and Lajos would rescue me. They did.”

  Raene sank onto the side of the bathtub. “Is it true Ostard is dead?”

  Olga splashed soap into Stefana’s eyes. “Princess, I’m so sorry.”

  Stefana cleaned the soap out with fresh water, but her eye stung. “It’s fine, Olga. Accidents happen.”

  When she peered at Raene, it was to find her friend frowning at Olga. “Yes, Ostard is dead. He was intent on marrying me. As I did not agree, and was forcibly taken from my home, Aern decreed him guilty. Then the idiot drew his sword. With Lajos in the room.”

  Raene grimaced. “Obviously he forgot Lajos is Aasguard.”

  “It took Lajos two seconds to kill Ostard. Maybe less. When Aasguards are angry, they don’t mess around.”

  “Ostard is known to be one of the best swordsmen in the world.”

  “Yes, but he wasn’t up to Aasguard standards, obviously.” Stefana rinsed the last of the soap out of her hair, since Olga appeared to be shaking more than usual. She stood to grasp a nearby towel.

  Raene’s gasp made her glance at her friend. “What’s wrong?”

  “Your entire left side is a mass of bruises.”

  “Yes, I believe the ride knocked my hip out of its socket as well, because I threw up.” Stefana, with Raene’s help, dried herself, then donned a long nightgown. She dismissed Olga.

  “Your maid isn’t very good at her job, is she?” Raene chewed on the inside of her cheek.

  “No. I’ve been meaning to ask if we can send her elsewhere.”

  “I think that would be a fine idea. You need someone who is less flighty.”

  “Someone who isn’t flighty at all would be ideal.” Stefana ran a comb through her wet tresses, and hoped they dried fast. She had grown weary of being drenched.

  “Anneke’s sister,” Anneke was Raene’s maid and friend, “is available. Obviously, I can vouch for her. She’s wonderful.”

  “Do you think she will be willing to start soon?”

  “Why don’t we have the two of you meet tomorrow and make certain you’ll suit? Do you have a plan for where to send Olga?”

  “Yes. She’ll perform better in the scullery. There she’ll be with other young women. She doesn’t seem quite right for a lady’s maid.”

  “No. I wish you would have reminded me of this earlier.”

  “As do I. But we’ve been distracted.”

  Raene’s snort would have brought a scold from her mother, the late Queen Margina. Sorrow welled within Stefana at the loss of a woman who had been a second mother to her.

  She held out her hand to Raene who grasped the offering tight, and they shared a moment of grief. It had been too soon to lose their queen. Too soon for Raene to be orphaned, and then she had been required, by outdated Montequirst law, to name a husband. All while mourning her mother and taking over the duties of the queen.

  Despite all that, Raene had chosen the best warrior in the land as dictated by law. She had merely placed her own interpretation on the law. And now she was as happy as a person could be who had lost both her parents. Vidar had counted Margina and her husband as friends, so he shared in Raene’s grief.

  As did the entire nation. Margina had helped to shape Stefana into the woman she was.

  “You need sleep.” Raene’s hand tightened, then she released it.

  “Yes. I believe I shall not have difficulty on tha
t front.”

  The kitchens sent her a late meal, which she devoured, unaware of how hungry she had been. The sandwich and fruit would aid her in her sleep, provided the various aches and pains didn’t make themselves known.

  As though reading her thoughts, a healer entered the room. Stefana sighed to herself. The gashes across her chest did not require additional care, fortunately. She drank several nasty concoctions and helped slather a medicinal smelling poultice down her left side. The pain did lessen in the wake of these remedies.

  After she climbed into bed, the healer bade her goodnight and left.

  Soon after, Raene hugged her and also took her leave.

  Stefana envied her that she had a husband to return to. Hard arms to hold her when she was scared.

  Hard arms and an equally hard body had secured her this eve though, and now that Stefana had experienced the sensation, she couldn’t return to her previous state. She couldn’t unfeel the warmth and security of Lajos’ arms.

  In light of her believing she was in love with Tomas, a childhood friend, who she hadn’t thought of once this evening, Stefana hoped she wasn’t a fickle woman. But Tomas planned to join his life to another childhood friend soon, and Stefana had barely spoken to him in recent years.

  Why had she ever thought herself in love with him? If she truly loved a man, shouldn’t he have been constantly on her mind?

  A dreadful ordeal, but never once had she considered Tomas coming to her rescue. She even supplied a snort at her wild thoughts. Tomas was a friend, but not the man she wished to spend the rest of her life with.

  Truth be told, she would have balked at the notion had it come true. Whereas his intended eagerly anticipated her wedding day and sharing the sheets with the man of her dreams.

  What did that feel like?

  Chapter 4

  “You’re brooding.”

  Lajos glanced in his brother’s direction as he downed another bite of his incredible breakfast. The luxuries in this castle were awe-inspiring.

  “I’m not.” He didn’t change his tone or sound defensive.