The Dragons' Chosen (7 page)

Our hosts had arranged a dance for the next evening with visiting nobles attending. I was more than ready for the distractions of music and dancing. I knew there would be covert glances and whispers behind fans, but for this last chance for pleasure and gaiety, I would sweep them away as if they were dust motes. This was my final opportunity for polite company and gaiety before entering into the wilderness.

Chapter 9

Frederick pressed a kiss to my hand. He was a pretty man, a viscount only, but charming and amiable. We’d been introduced before at my parent’s court. He was part of the throng of the young demi-nobles that circled social events. I had always found him pleasant, full of life and daring. He had a ready smile, dimples and molten brown eyes. I looked up at him as a lock of golden hair fell over his brow. How could I not allow myself to be entranced? It was for but an evening. He asked me to dance, and again and then again. The rules that I had adhered to all my life no longer bound me. How could it matter if I danced with the same man twice in a row and flirted with abandon?

Lucinda, dressed in an ill-fitted mustard yellow dress, frowned as I whirled by. Flounces didn’t suit my chaperone. She seemed determined to hold to the conventions from my previous life, ones that I no longer saw as relevant. A young page, after a knowing look at Frederick, bumped against her, spilling punch across the shoulder of her dress. Lucinda ineffectually wiped at the dark splotch as it spread down her chest. Frederick smiled and gave me a wink as two serving maids whisked her away amidst a flurry of fussing.

That dance ended too soon for me. As the music started up again, Frederick tucked my arm under his and pointed out at the balcony. “See that? I had the moon delivered ’specially for you. Come, let us enjoy the evening.”

My last chance at life, at love and romance, at being a girl with someone to flirt with—I nodded. As the dancers spun around, we stepped into the shadows. No one noticed us standing at the edge of the dance floor; we ducked outside.

The cool air felt refreshing after the heat from the ballroom; I smelled jasmine and lilacs mixed in a heady night perfume. Paved stone turned into grass as we wandered beyond the towering yews that enclosed the gardens.

“You are beautiful. Of course, you know that. Your mirror must have reflected that to you all your life.” He smiled at me. “Songs have been written about your hair, your green eyes—your neck.” He lightly touched the nape of my neck. “Even now ballads are being written for you.” He lifted my hand to his mouth and nibbled gently at the tips of my fingers. “Have you heard the latest song written about you? It’s being sung in taverns and castles. Some traveling bard created it, but everyone is singing it, ‘The Lost Lady with the Sea-Green Eyes.’”

He kissed the inside of my wrist. “Would that I could compose something for you, an ode to your beauty or a thesis to your intelligence. What should it be?” He smiled, pulling slowly at one of my curls that had escaped my net. “If I could but be the golden net holding your scarlet-fire hair. Oh, to provide a service to you, even the most simple as this.”

I blinked. Not that again. “It’s auburn.”

“What?”

“My hair—it isn’t scarlet or crimson or copper, it’s auburn.” I know this is a small point, but I disliked the tired exaggerations about my hair color. Never anything new.

He held the lock up to the moonlight, running fingers across it. “Ah yes, so it is.”

I was lulled once again, lapping up the attention like a kitten.

He leaned over and kissed the corner of my mouth. I breathed a sigh of pure pleasure. His arms encircled me and I could hear music. Well, yes, it was from the ballroom, but it seemed they were playing just for the two of us.

He wrapped one arm around me, murmuring into my ear, and kissed my lips.

I hesitated, twisting my head aside. “I think we should go back in.”

“Just a few minutes more. You take my breath away. You are my princess, and I naught but your devoted slave.”

I shook my head, but he obviously didn’t notice. Another minute, I thought, and we’d return. I felt warm and dreamy and loved.

His mouth mashed against mine.

By the end of five increasingly vigorous and imperfect kisses, the music stopped for me. I was disenchanted and tried to pull back.

I should not have left the party. This had gone too far.

I could hear his breathing in my ear. “Tomorrow morning we will marry. Your honor will be uncompromised.”

What was he talking about? The music was back, but now the discordant clanging of bells replaced the harps and violins. “No. I’m flattered, of course, but that is not possible.” I tried to squirm away. “We need to return now; people will be looking for us.” I couldn’t marry him. I couldn’t marry anyone, and he was but a viscount.

I had to get back to the party before someone noticed, before there was talk. This couldn’t go any further.

Frederick pulled me tighter. “Be patient, my sweet. It will take but a few moments and then all will be better. It’s said that the dragons never take a deflowered princess.” I felt three buttons on my bodice pop open, his tongue roughly enter my mouth.

“What!” I endeavored to push him away, but he didn’t seem eager to leave. I struggled anew. My temper rose; the music replaced by the deep boom of war drums.

“Shhh, just relax,” he insisted, his hand grabbing for my breast. “Trust me. Even if you get with child, it won’t matter. Will it?”

Four more buttons went the way of the first ones. This was not noble behavior, not what I expected from a peer.

“Release me now!” We both tumbled down on the grass. I could have sworn he tripped me.

He seemed to have sprouted multiple arms and legs. I shoved him harder, but he didn’t seem to notice. Frederick initiated a full-fledged assault on my person, holding me down. I fought back with elbows, hands and nails. Both of us abandoned the mannerly behavior of courts. This was no longer the behavior of an overzealous seduction, but an attack.

“Stop it! How dare you, you, you poxy brigand. Stop!” I commanded. My full skirts were tangled and I could feel the chill night air on my legs. He outweighed me by four stone and he wasn’t listening.

I bit him. He reared back for a split second, saying something quite unbecoming.

“Ahem.”

Two large men lifted Frederick bodily off me.

“I believe the princess said she wants to go inside now. Isn’t that right, George?”

“Aye, that’s what she said.”

“You’re looking somewhat mussed,” Michael added as he shook Frederick hard enough to rattle his teeth and shoved him toward George.

“Here, let me dust you off before you return to the castle.” George held Frederick’s arms and Michael doubled him over with a punch to his stomach.

“Much better, don’t you think?”

I stood, holding my bodice together, shaken, bruised, a smidgen wiser and very, very angry.

George’s eyes glittered with rage, but his voice oozed concern for Frederick as he spoke to him. “Yes, you should go inside now. You’re looking a little under the weather. If I were you, I might get out of the night air. It isn’t good for you.”

“I’ll have you hanged,” Frederick sputtered, gasping for breath as he tried to straighten up.

I don’t believe he could see the fire in my sea-green eyes, but he should have thought this through. “I wouldn’t if I were you. You’ve accosted a princess.”

Anger warred with sense. I wanted him punished, publicly humiliated, but not at the cost of my name, my honor. I didn’t wish rumors of this spoken behind furled fans, people laughing at my inexperience and naïveté. My family having to deal not only with my death, but also my dishonor.

Honor won. I gritted my teeth.

“Let us agree that you won’t be drawn and quartered, and they won’t be charged with mussing your person.” I watched his face, defiance and pride competing with the beginnings of trepidation. “And, to ensure your continued health, make very, very sure that no word of this is ever mentioned. Not even whispered.” I willed myself to stand there, to speak clearly and carefully though I shook with fury and shock.

“So that you comprehend this lesson, I will send off a message to my father tonight for my men’s safety and the safety of any other females you might feel the need to write an ode to.”

Frederick snapped, “Well, you’re going to die a virgin. I hope that is some cold comfort to you.”

I stood stock-still and then turned to my men. “Please escort Frederick to his lodgings.” I turned my back for a second and then reconsidered. “And, if you would, make sure, make very sure, that Frederick is completely ‘dusted off’ before he enters his room. I wouldn’t want this lesson to be wasted.”

I retreated to my rooms, quickly throwing a shawl across my gown to disguise the damage done and to cover my missing buttons. I would not have my last days marred by this incident. I took out the chess piece that my father had gifted me and tossed it in my drawstring purse for courage. I tucked my hair back into my net, smoothed the creases from my green gown and put on my best smile. Once again I joined the party. I was charming, or so I hoped. I chatted with my hosts, interacted with the matrons and flirted with three or four men ranging from age from thirteen to sixty-three. I was bright, clever, and did everything but wag my tail like a hunting dog retrieving a grouse.

But beneath it all I shivered. My name and position no longer shielded me. A man had thought to take advantage of my situation. And I had bitten someone, protected myself with nails and teeth. This was not like sparring with the weapons master. I was flooded with emotion: embarrassment, shame, and yet, strength. It was distasteful that I was reduced to such, but I now knew that I would defend myself if attacked, and not just with words.

And through it all, as the music played, I smiled and charmed.

Mother would have given me her nod of approval. Frederick was not to be seen; I hoped he had taken his lesson to heart.

I had learned mine.

Lucinda watched my performance from the sidelines with no expression on her face. Later that night, as she helped me dress for bed, she still said nothing, though the bruises on my body were obvious in the candlelight. She held my arm out, examining the dark spots, before rubbing it with an herbal mixture that smelled of camphor and mint.

I slept, dreaming of dragons who rode the wind, nobles who sprouted fangs and a woman who wore writing on her chemise.

Chapter 10

We left early the next morning, well before I was prepared to be awake.

I quietly informed Captain Markus of George and Michael’s gallant behavior, though the details didn’t bear recounting. As Mother was wont to say, self-pity is so plebian.

Riding along the dusty road, I reviewed the previous night: thinking about my folly with Frederick; how he had taken advantage of my situation, not for love, or even lust, but for power. None of my peers had looked for me, nor come to my aid. My rescuers had been my father’s men, George and Michael. It came to me that I hadn’t expressed my appreciation to them, taking their rescue as my due. An uncomfortable thought crossed my mind; what must they think of me, not only naïve and reckless but ungrateful also.

An opportunity for reparation came at our midmorning stop. George held Winter’s reins as I dismounted. Nearby, Michael checked his mount’s feet for stones, both of them acting as if nothing had happened the night before. Lucinda busied herself with Dumpling’s saddlebags, pretending not to hover.