The Dragons' Chosen (22 page)

But now a future lay before me, ambiguous, one where I had to walk a careful path. A misstep, a careless word, would carve in stone the rest of my life. A marriage in a strange land to a half man, half dragon. My thoughts veered to one particular man-dragon—one that I wished would step forward and….

I shook myself; this was no time to be the fanciful miss dreaming of illusions. They were not human.

Only honor and duty forced me to consider their offer. I reminded myself of my father’s whispered advice after taking my rook with his knight during my ninth year: “Consider the war, not the battle. Most important: never, ever concede.”

But, for all my bluster, I was at their mercy. I had no coin to play. No one was coming to my rescue. They thought me dead.

And there was the treaty. I must marry one of them or else…or else what? I didn’t know.

Perhaps Chris was right; maybe there was another way to protect my home. Mayhap they exaggerated the danger. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last, that people twisted the truth to leverage an agreement to benefit themselves.

My mind circled back to Chris. It seemed peculiar that precisely when I needed her, she appeared from a distant world. Something slipped across my mind like a feather, something she had said. Something odd, some passing comment about her great-grandmother. What was it that didn’t make sense?

I heard the crunch of steps as someone approached and then hesitated. I ran forward, eager to see Chris again, to make amends and start anew. My face fell, but my tell-tale heart beat faster. Tristan, the erstwhile bard, and Piers, the youngest of the man-dragons, crooked their heads around the corner, bearing steaming bowls of stew. Every time Tristan appeared, I felt a pull, one that I struggled to contain.

Tristan cleared his throat. “If there is anything we can do to make this easier…” I turned away from him. I knew my countenance must show the flush that rose to my face.

“Aside from returning me to my life and my family?” I said, slapping a bitter edge in my voice to disguise my reactions. “No. Nothing.”

Piers’s eyes grew large and he backed out quickly. Tristan paused before speaking. “Please, believe me. You won’t come to harm at our hands. Even though our comforts here are meager.” He turned toward the small pile of goods in the corner. “What little we have we extend to you.”

Finally, one more missing piece slid into place.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You were there at gatherings and dances, playing music, singing. You’re who marked me as chosen.”

His face closed up. “You know I was among those who picked you. The three of us, Piers, Rauf, and I, were sent to find a princess.”

“Might I ask, why me? Did I draw the short straw?”

He sighed. “We were obviously looking for a princess. Someone worthy of a king. We wanted someone with backbone and strength.” He laughed deprecatingly as a slow flush crawled up his neck. “Someone I…we could envision marrying. And there you were, bright, courageous, well-spoken and beautiful. We congratulated ourselves when we found you. We were so sure.”

Here with him alone, my breathing quickened. I ground my teeth to hold myself aloof. “You mean you, not we.
You
were sure.”

He was quiet and then acknowledged, “Yes, me.”

My heart betrayed me again, beating faster and faster. How could I feel so deceived and yet simultaneously feel this yearning?

He shifted our conversation then. “I didn’t consider the cost of keeping our purpose known only to your Priestess. I tried to convince myself that it was not my concern. It was an understanding between your spiritual advisors and my kingdom. However, as the days went on, I found myself increasingly uncomfortable. I returned and tried to get an audience with the Priestess. Four times I went. She was unavailable and the doors barred.

“And then that night, I watched you at supper and saw the toll that this was taking on you. Piers, Rauf and I talked that night, back and forth, debating our need to protect our kingdom, against our responsibility to our future princess, you. We were conflicted. It was too unkind, too severe a condemnation for anyone to endure, much less a gently-raised lady.”

There it was again, another reminder that he had caused all of this to happen. My temper flared.

“And this is where you’ve taken me, a ‘gently-raised lady’?” I parroted. “To wed a dragon?” I lobbed a low comment, “Perhaps marrying a half-beast is only slightly better to me than being eaten by one.”

He flinched.

He looked hard at me then, met my eyes and held them. I struggled not to lose my bearings in the otherness there, not to drown in the sea of wildness and warmth. Tristan seemed lost within himself, then gave a little shake, continuing as if I had not spoken.

He looked past me, speaking with careful precision. “I know this can’t be easy for you, presented with a suitor from a foreign land. A people unlike your own. All of us are under much strain, but my brothers and cousins are good men. Men you’d want to have at your back.”

He avoided my eyes as he spoke next. “I understand you not wanting to marry one who is not wholly human. I’ve thought much on this.”

What was this about, some new gambit?

Now that I was close to him, I marveled at the foreignness in his eyes. His pupils were more oval than round, and within their depths I could see power and a strange wildness. Beyond that I saw hints of compassion and sadness. And something more—longing?

I almost snorted at my imaginings. No matter how human he looked now, he was a dragon. And one with his own agenda.

But as we stood so close, I breathed in his scent. Longing coursed across my body, flooding my thoughts. The distance between us seemed to fade. Did he lean closer, or did I? I wanted—I didn’t want.

I couldn’t.

I braced myself and stared straight into those strange blue eyes. “You lied to me.”

He met my eyes briefly, before leaning against the door, looking beyond me at the wall. “No, never.”

I thought back. “Perhaps not in so many words. But you knew what was to happen and you let me believe that I was to die. Is that honest? Do you consider that fair and honorable?” He stood unmoving as if now part of the stone wall.

He turned to leave. As he disappeared from my view, I heard him speak, “Not particularly, My Lady.”

It felt like any hope I might have had disappeared with him.

Chapter 32

I refused any discourse with the man-dragons the remainder of that day and the next afternoon. Meals were delivered by one or another of them. Chris received them, silencing any discussion from our captors. By that second evening, I had a plan. I started down the cold stone stairs, back to where they milled around awaiting my presence. Chris joined me before I was halfway there. We finished descending the stairs in silence.

“I’m ready for us to move forward.”

Five heads spun toward me and five chins lifted with interest. Since I had refused to return with them, the man-dragons had seemed conflicted about how to proceed. My stand had spread discord among them; I could see bruises on Hugh’s right cheek and Rauf’s lip was puffed. The walls were scorched from the aftermath of dragon fire. Factions were forming, then fissuring. Piers, James and even Tristan seemed sympathetic to my situation, as if they too were ill at ease. Hugh and Rauf I couldn’t read.

As though putting a foot in an icy stream, I edged into my discourse, one toe at a time, my smile hiding both my anxiety and my fury.

I lowered my voice and peered up through my lashes at them. “I’ve selected the challenges for you.” When logic and force failed, honey, as my mother had said, could be a powerful draw.

I attempted to project a look that was both girlish and regal. “It will help me make a well-formed decision as to whom I shall marry.”

My apprehension I hid beneath a coquettish smile. It wouldn’t do to approach this forcefully; I needed to win them over, so they would want to oblige me. I wished for a fan to hide any doubt that might show on my face.

I caught Tristan watching me and shaking his head. After our last encounter, he must think me a shrew. I turned my head to cover my blush and noticed Hugh watching Chris, or rather Chris’s chest. Perhaps he was evaluating the tantalizing words written across today’s chemise front, “Warning: I have an attitude, and I
do
know how to use it.” The chemise was a bit revealing. Well, more than a bit.

Gathering my courage, I forged ahead. “Let us begin anew. This situation is not of your making. Perhaps you also have some discontent with how this came to be.” I fluttered my eyelashes, enough to let the men feel manly.

“You’re overdoing it.” Chris leaned toward me and whispered. “Hugh is looking at you like a wolf at a tethered goat.”

I kept my eyes from him. What would Chris know of such things? But I focused on the others and adjusted my lines of persuasion.

“Not that I agree with what’s been done,” I amended. “But can’t we move forward, create a resolution—one in which each of us is satisfied?” They looked at one another, their tension radiating from some unspoken decision. A chill jabbed at my heart. Something was up. My pretense was failing, my push to cheery assurance slipping like water through my hands. I unlocked my fingers and forced my arms to my sides in an effort to appear relaxed.

“We need to begin, as you have indicated, as quickly as possible.” At their blank looks, I started again, trying to assert control. “One of you must wed a human princess, and I agree to this. But there is a caveat.
I
will choose which one.” I took in a breath, then continued. “I’ve decided how best to gather information. One, we will have a sword display so I can see you fight. Two, each of you will play chess—against me. And three, each of you will be asked to bring me the perfect gift.”

Hugh’s sardonic voice interfered with my declaration. “And if we choose not to
play
but simply take you back to our kingdom as the treaty allows? Or do you prefer that we break our part of the treaty?”

Fear flashed in my chest. Would my world then be at risk?

Check.

I was losing control. I revised my tactics, to spin it on its axis.

I lifted my chin. “No, we both keep our ends of the treaty. But with my rules. Otherwise, though you have a princess, you have one who seeks to undermine you the rest of your life. Is that
your
wish? Or do you want someone who will support you, raise your children and stand by your side?” I strained to keep my face composed.

They furrowed their brows in the face of the changes in my demeanor. Tristan and James flashed a short look between them before studiously staring at the floor. Rauf looked contemplative. I felt my blood chill.

Hugh lowered his eyes before looking back at me with a wolfish grin. “Perhaps it makes no great difference to us.” There it was. They had talked, made a decision. My options had dwindled.

Check again.

The other four men were now at attention, their gaze flicking back and forth between Hugh and me. I stared ahead while searching for the right thing to say. I could think of nothing. I swallowed. All my hopes of succeeding with reason, flattery and winsome looks sank like a stone, without a single bubble to mark their departure.

I was losing. My ears roared with noise. I couldn’t think.

From somewhere I heard James say, “Don’t push her.”

Hugh shrugged, “We’re leaving today, Genevieve. You need to concede at least to this, for your own good and the good of our worlds. We’ve waited, hoping that you would take a rational approach to your destiny.” He smiled at me. “It’s over. The game is ended. We leave within the hour—with you.”

His last words rang in my head like a funeral bell.

This was not a game of honor, but one where I embodied the spoils of war, the carrion-crow pickings after a battle. I stood there in shock. Tristan continued staring at the floor, as if unwilling to acknowledge what was happening. Rauf and Piers flanked the far wall like ship scavengers waiting for the plunder to wash up with the tide.

They had been planning this, watching me, amused and sly. No power, no choice. Chris was right; they saw me as a broodmare, not a princess. The imprisoning weight of the caves closed in on me, leaching my thoughts, my strength.