Dragon Rose (28 page)
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”
And he took me in his arms, and kissed me, and it was like the kiss from my dreams, only so much better, because this was the real man holding me, the real Theran, everything so vivid and true, from the faint taste of wine on his lips to the sweet herbal scent of his robes.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world for my body to press itself against his, for him to fumble with the laces at the neck of my chemise, for the two of us to fall to the bed, our need bringing us together. I understood finally just what I had ached for, as Theran touched me, stroked me, made me cry out his name. And then we were no longer two halves, but a whole that could not be denied, a consummation all the more sweet because I had never dreamed it could truly be mine.
For the first time, I understood reality could be so much lovelier than dreams.
Midwinter was upon us, and Black’s Keep had opened its doors to not just the residents of Greyton, but also those of Lirinsholme hardy enough to make the snowy ascent. My parents were there, and my sisters—Therella scowling quite a bit as she realized not only was I the lady of the castle, but also that the feared Dragon Lord had turned out to be young and handsome—and Lilianth and Adain and so many others of my friends and family.
“I told you the true Seeing would come in handy one day,” my Granny Menyon told me with a wink, as she helped herself to yet another cup of mulled wine. “Proud I am, that my own granddaughter should be the one to break the curse!”
“It was luck more than anything—” I began, but she shook her head.
“Not luck. It was the gods’ doing, knowing it was time for things to change.”
As may be true. I somehow doubted the gods occupied themselves with such petty matters, but if that was what my grandmother wished to believe, I would not gainsay her. Who knows, really, why a certain combination of circumstances brings about a given conclusion? Chance, or luck…or the gods. I was not quite stubborn enough to say it couldn’t be any one of those things, or perhaps all three.
All I knew was that I stood in the great feasting hall where once I had taken my first meal with Theran, and reflected that it could not be more different. Evergreen boughs were swagged from the mantel and from the great wrought-iron chandelier overhead, and even from the sconces along the walls. The air smelled of spiced wine and rich roasted meats, and everywhere I looked I saw smiles, albeit mixed with glances of wonderment. After all, no one save members of the castle’s household had set foot in Black’s Keep for five hundred years.
Well, that was changed now. We would have to make our own traditions, and forge our own path in the world. And I knew I could face the future without fear, for I would have Theran at my side.
I gazed across the room and saw him watching me. A rush of warmth went through me as I recalled the touch of his mouth on mine, the heat of his skin against me as I lay in bed next to him. We were now man and wife in every sense of the word, and again I marveled at how much I desired him. Even now, with the hall crowded around us, I recalled his touch, and a flush of desire went through my body once more. The celebration was grand, but I would be glad when we were alone once more, and could disappear into one another all over again.
As if our eyes meeting were a signal, he excused himself from the portly merchant with whom he had been speaking, and came to meet me.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
Most likely he referred to the gaiety of the Midwinter gathering around us, but in my mind his question meant so much more. “It’s wonderful. More than I had ever dreamed it would be.”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand me, instead taking me by the hand and leading me into a little side gallery, where a mullioned window looked down over the snow-covered gardens. “I invited all these people, thinking it would be a gesture of goodwill, but I confess now that I would much rather they were elsewhere.”
Since I knew no one could see us, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him soundly, my body thrilling as he folded me into his arms and deepened the kiss. I tasted mulled wine on his lips and tongue, as no doubt he tasted it on mine as well.
“A poor host,” I said, after we had pulled apart. “And yet, I must be a poor hostess as well, for I confess I feel much the same way.”
“Ah, well, we must console ourselves with the knowledge that there are many more nights to come after this.”
“And mornings, and afternoons…”
He laughed then, the lines around his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Yes, and those, too. And you said you would teach me to paint—”
“And you would teach me to ride—”
“So I did. We have all these things to look forward to, but in the meantime, I suppose we should not shirk our duty as hosts.”
“No, I suppose not.” I kissed him again, quickly, a deposit against a future, more lengthy engagement. “Shall we go back in?”
He nodded, and took my arm, and led me back into the hall, where once again we were surrounded by well-wishers. Light and warmth filled the room, a bulwark against the cold winter night, and from a place of honor above the mantel the portrait of Theran looked down on all of us, that secret smile still touching the corner of his mouth.
Seeing it, I smiled as well.
THE END
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