Dragon Heat (Dragons of Perralt Book 2) (14 page)

Flint’s shoulders sagged. “Laila, I’m sorry. Really I am. I couldn’t tell you.”

“Couldn’t tell me about being a dragon, or couldn’t tell me about being a prince?

“They are sort of wrapped up together,” he said, as he reached out to touch her shoulder.

She twisted away from him. She couldn’t let him touch her. Even now, he had some magical power that drew her to him. If he touched her, she might succumb, or even worse, forgive him.

“Or, was it because you forgot to tell me about your brother, married to the Queen of Lushcany,” she said. “Oh, I know. You’re sorry because I almost got cooked by another dragon. Sorry, Laila, these things happen.”

His chin slumped to his chest in defeat. But, she wasn’t done.

“How about leaving me alone with your mother?” she said. “Look how I’m dressed,” she continued, as she pulled at her ragged skirt. She wasn’t anywhere near being done yelling at this man. There was too much pain, and too much embarrassment to ever be done yelling at him.

“Me, a girl from Fifth Point, standing next to a queen and a princess…”

“I said …” Flint began.

“I’m not done,” she yelled. “Me, with a queen. You whisk me away into the sky. Deposit me on a cliff a gazillion feet in the air. Introduce me to your mother and then take off. What kind of idiot does such a thing?”

“The Gray. It couldn’t wait,” Flint said.

“Exactly,” Laila replied, her hands resting on her hips. “It couldn’t wait. It’s only Laila, she’s not important. She’s from Fifth Point. She doesn’t count.”

“No,” he exclaimed. “That’s not it. You don’t understand.”

Her insides exploded. “Oh, so not only am I unimportant. Now I’m dumb. Too stupid to understand the great Golden Boy, Mr. Flint of the famous Perralt Dragons.”

Flint dropped his head and shook it side to side, as if trying to wrap his mind around an impossible puzzle.

“You can’t leave,” he said, bending down to pick up the locket she had thrown at his feet.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

Sighing, he said, “Because my mother invited you inside.”

Laila’s stomach clenched up. Not because he wanted her to stay. But, because his damn mother invited her to tea.

“She’s not the boss of me,” she said. Even to her ears, her voice had sounded less than confident.

“No, she’s not,” he said. “But, that is her forest, and she is the sovereign of this domain. Believe me, you do not want to test her. Please, come inside.”

“So, I am a prisoner now,” she said. “I should have known. The stories about you dragons are true.”

Flint sighed again and looked into her eyes. Holding her soul in his gaze.

“You are not a prisoner,” he said. “I promise you. Come inside. We can work this out. And then, if you want to leave. I will take you anywhere you want to go.”

Laila stared at him for a long moment. Should she trust him? How could she? But, what choice did she have really? Glancing out over the forest she shuddered. She wouldn’t last a day in there. What did a girl from Fifth Point know about forests?

No, she would go inside with Flint. It was the least she could do. Maybe she could convince his mother to send someone with her to pass through the forest. If not, she would do it by herself. Because there was one thing she knew for sure, under no circumstances was she spending any time with this man. This dragon!

Flint held his breath while he waited for Laila to make up her mind. One thing he knew for sure. She wasn’t leaving here alone. The Gray was still out there somewhere, waiting, watching.

She stared up at him for a long moment. Then, snatched the locket from his hand. “Give me that,” she said. “You haven’t earned it.”

His insides relaxed.

He pulled the great oaken doors open and placed his hand on the small of her back to escort her inside.

She shuffled away from him, sending him a look that could have frozen the Threatham rapids.

This was not going to be easy, he realized. Not by a long shot.

.o0o.

Laila held her breath as she walked down the long, dark corridor. Torches burned to light their way. The heavy door closed behind them. The stone floor and stone walls looked as if they had been polished. Who polished walls? 

What was she getting herself into?

They made two turns, then stepped into an open air breezeway. Laila gasped. A beautiful, tranquil valley was laid out before them.

She could feel Flint watching her. Waiting for her reaction. She couldn’t help herself, though. Her lips couldn’t not bend into a smile. Green, lush farm fields dotted the landscape. A distant waterfall fell into a lake that spilled over into a small river running through the bottom of the valley.

Surrounded by tall, snowcapped mountains, it looked idyllic, isolated. Perfect.

“You grew up here?” she asked.

He nodded as he looked out over his home. “The valley of Perralt.”

A burst of pure envy passed through her. The bastard lived here. While she had been scrambling to survive in Fifth Point.

She thought of the dirt of her home, the hunger pains, the constant fear. And all the time, he was living in this make-believe, magical world of perfection. It wasn’t fair.

“Come,” he said. “It is never good to keep my mother waiting.” His hand started to reach for the small of her back again. But, then he obviously remembered and pulled it back.

A small part of her was disappointed. Her body betrayed her by longing for his touch. Well, her body had better learn to live without it, because this man was never going to touch her again. Not if she had anything to say about it.

He led her through the hallways to a distant room. Opening the door, he stepped aside and waited for her to enter.

Once again, she thought of her shabby clothes that she had slept in last night. On the hard ground no less.

Laila bit her lip and stepped inside. The room was dominated by a long dining table. Polished to within an inch of its life. High back chairs, carved in intricate patterns, were lined up around the table like soldiers on the city walls.

Oil lamps and candles added to the light. But, most of the light came from the open veranda at the end of the room.

Both the Queen and her daughter Gwyn, stood there, waiting. Laila felt her stomach clench up into a ball. Yes, Lady Emily had taught her what to do around royalty, all the steps, and procedures. But, this was different, this was Flint’s family.

Suddenly, she remembered. She hadn’t curtsied when she was introduced to the Queen. How could she have forgotten? In all of the excitement and worry about Flint. She had completely forgotten. Her cheeks flushed with warmth at her embarrassment. What must his mother think of her? The gutter snipe who didn’t know how to act.

Hadn’t one of the first things the woman had mentioned to her long lost son was the importance of manners? Laila swallowed hard as her stomach began to rebel.

She was an idiot, she cursed to herself.

“Mother,” Flint said, as he escorted them inside the room.

Laila glanced around and noticed the large shield hanging over the door. Her insides lurched once again when she recognized the family coat of arms. This time, a red background and a white, two-headed dragon. The opposite of the one she had seen at the Ambassador’s residence.

She glanced at Flint, shooting him another look of disappointment. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

He had the grace to blush a little and dip his head in acknowledgement of his error. It was the least he could do.

“Come,” his mother said. “Dinner is not for several hours yet. So, I’ve asked the kitchen to send up something to tide you over.”

With that, the side doors opened, and a tall butler stepped in carrying a large silver tray of fruit. He was followed immediately by two more men, one with a tray of meats, another with a tray of a dozen different cheeses.

Laila's stomach rumbled. Loud enough for the Queen to notice. Laila wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

“Great,” Flint said. “We haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. And, it has been a rather hectic time.”

“I’m sure it has,” his mother said, as she studied her son for a moment. Laila could see a small hint of concern behind her eyes. Just enough to know that it was there. Then, it was gone, and the woman was back to being the imperious queen.

“Laila, please,” the Queen said, indicating the food.

Her stomach dropped. Where to begin. And how? She tried to remember what Lady Emily had taught her, but every lesson had disappeared.

“Here, try these,” Gwyn said, as she used little silver tongs to place several pieces of meat and cheese on a small china plate. “These are my favorite.”

Gwyn smiled at her. Laila looked over at Flint from beneath her brow. The big man was using his fingers to cram food into his mouth. No, she couldn’t rely on him to show her how to behave. She glanced over at Gwyn and noticed the woman use a small fork to spear a small chunk of cheese off her plate.

Relaxing, she retrieved a similar fork from next to the tray and began to eat. She had to remind herself to slow down. To not devour the entire helping in one bite.

“So tell me, Flint. To what do we owe this early return of yours?”

Flint sighed and glanced at Laila. “As I am sure you heard, Mother. Laila possesses one of the five medallions.”

His mother nodded, “I see, and the agreement for the return of the medallion?”

“Laila requested that she marry a prince and live in a castle.”

Laila’s cheeks burst in warmth with her embarrassment. He made it sound as if she were a little girl wishing on a star. A silly girl with a silly dream. It had all happened so fast.

“So you decided to be her prince?” the Queen said with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Laila exclaimed. “Not Flint. No, a different prince. Flint found a prince. Prince Jeffery of Caylan,” she said, desperate that his mother not misunderstand. “I was to pretend to be a foreign princess. But …”

“The man turned out to be inadequate and unworthy of Laila,” Flint said.

Her heart skipped a beat at the compliment. Did he really think the Prince was unworthy of her?

“Ah, I see,” his mother said, as he looked back and forth between them. “That explains so much.”

“I believe the Gray, in human form, betrayed our plans to the young Prince,” Flint added.

The Queen nodded. “Very well, we will learn all of the details at dinner. Thad should have returned by then. In the meantime, Gwyn dear, I am sure Laila would like to freshen herself, a bath perhaps. She is about your size. I’m sure you can find something for her.”

“Yes, mother,” Gwyn said, then smiled at Laila and indicated the door.

Laila followed the young Princess, her head clouded with confusion. What was going on? She couldn’t begin to understand. Was she a guest? A prisoner? Or, did the Queen have some other plan for her? Maybe the woman was waiting for an opportunity to turn her over to the gray dragon. It would solve a lot of problems if he was to cook her quickly then devour her for a meal.

Laila shuddered and began to leave the room when she remembered, she hadn’t curtsied when she came into the room. Once again, she had proven herself a provincial bumpkin. What must the woman think of her?

She turned quickly to give the woman a curtsy, but the Queen had already turned her back and was looking out over her valley. Deep in thought.

Laila swallowed the shame and embarrassment and followed Gwyn from the room.

“So, you and my brother?” Gwyn asked with a smile as they walked down the hall.

“What? No.” Laila said. Aghast at the thought. Why did everyone think they were together?

Gwyn shook her head. “Really? I am surprised. I’ve never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you.”

Laila felt something let loose inside of her. What was his sister saying? Before she could stop herself, though, she said what she was really thinking.

“Your brother has been with many women?” What a dumb thing to ask. Obviously, he had, this was Flint they were talking about.

Gwyn laughed. “Too many for his own good. Things have always come too easy for the man.”

His sister knew him well.

“But, again, I still say, I’ve never seen him look at them the way he looks at you. Plus, He’s never introduced one to Mother. The fact that you held your own with her is remarkable. Most women would have been a puddle around her. She does have a way of intimidating a person.”

Laila laughed, she liked this young woman. She didn’t appear self-centered or too full of herself. Not at all what she had expected from a princess.

“I think you should know Princess…”

“Please. Call me Gwyn.”

“Yes, well, Gwyn, I’m not a princess. I’m not even high born. I grew up in the slums of Fifth Point.”

Gwyn halted and looked at her for a long moment. “Really,” she said, “you wouldn’t know. It doesn’t really matter, though, does it? If you are Flint’s friend, then you are fine with us.”

Laila sighed. “I wouldn’t exactly call us friends. I’m barely talking to the man. He infuriates me half the time.”

Gwyn laughed, “He can be insufferably arrogant at times. But then, other times, he can be the most giving, charming, protective beast. A man that you just want to be around.”

Laila smiled. His sister understood him perfectly.

“Come on,” Gwyn said. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Dinner will be here before you know it and I can’t wait to hear your story.”