The Dragon's Treasure, Part 3 (For Love of Dragons) (3 page)

This bitter pain kept her company throughout the night until day found her wearily walking around her room in a half dazed fog.

Isabelle turned slightly at the sound of something scurrying across the floor of what she had dejectedly decided was her bedroom. She frowned at the offending brown tuft of fur.
Just a mouse after all then.

It was mid-morning. She had bathed with a small pitcher and a slightly scratchy cloth. No large, heated baths for her down here. And then she had decided to dress in a simple gown of blue. She had gathered her hair in a sloppy bun, nothing too fancy and besides, no one would be around to notice her hair today anyway. Not that anyone really cared.

She had tried to see Caden earlier but he had been eating breakfast and had seemed far more interested in it than in her disjointed mutterings. She had left quickly, unable to tell her brother of the latest news in a series of things he was much too young to understand but tried hard to anyway. She appreciated his effort at least.

Isabelle turned slowly toward the doorway, barely a length of heavy cloth covering the opening. At least this opening seemed too small for what she imagined the
Draconians
to be in the natural state. The furniture too was smaller than in
Faolan's
room, though not nearly as nice as his. Human furnishings, a human doorway, all for a human bride, she thought with a scowl. She began picking at her nails and then threw her hands down to her side, her fists rapidly clenching and then unclenching as she fought the range of emotions that seemed to find her already this morning. She had never thought of herself as a spiteful person, but perhaps that was changing now. It wouldn't surprise her in the least, not with all the changes
Kylin
said would be happening to her over the next few months. It seemed a bit early for mood swings to be developing but she quickly decided they were the cause of her bad mood that morning and the night before.

Hoping that a change of scenery would lighten her earlier thoughts, Isabelle stepped gracefully out of her small room, the curtain closing behind her with a loud swoosh of fabric, and proceeded down the hall, her bare feet soundless against the stone floor.

Her walk was aimless, just the motion of moving her feet forward but having no real direction or will behind her actions. Her only decision since she stepped out of her room minutes before was that she wanted away from
there,
and nothing more. Perhaps she should have thought more about it, or should have paid more attention to where she was going, because she quickly found herself standing in front of the familiar carvings of
Faolan's
wooden door.

She should not have stayed as long as she did, or stared at it as she was. If Isabelle had been thinking she would have kept walking, preferably in the opposite direction, the minute she realized she had found herself in front of his door. But she had decidedly not been thinking and so the only thing Isabelle was certain of as she stood there dumbly staring at what had been her mountain home up until the night before, was that she missed him.

As odd and ridiculous as that sounded, she missed Faolan. He was only her husband in name really, they were little more than an arrangement, and he had made it undoubtedly clear that she meant very little if anything to him at all yesterday. But she couldn't deny those feelings, as they crashed against her like an angry torrent wave.

She, Isabelle Falcone, had fallen for the Draconian prince.

It was enough to bring a derisive laugh to her pale lips. It simply was not happening, could not be happening, and yet it was. Andrew had always called her rash and uncivilized. Well, she now found herself quite smitten with the son of the leader of the one group of people he thought to be the most uncivilized out of the bunch.

Smitten seemed such a strange word for her to be using.
It was much more her mother's word when describing why the young ladies of the court acted so strangely. And Isabelle certainly did not think she was acting like someone had taken her mind.
Any more
than usual, she could hear Andrew's soft voice teasing in her ear. She even missed him, she thought with a roll of her watery eyes.

But back to Faolan, she thought with a mental shake. She wasn't smitten, she decided. But she was
loathe
to call it love, especially when she had only been a bed partner to him.

She slowly slid to the floor across the wall from that familiar wood door. She was unaware of where she really was, and who could walk by at any moment. All she knew was that she had to sit, had to think, had to just be, at least for a moment.

It was unfortunate then that Faolan found her a half hour later, fresh tears making their slow trek down her cheeks as she stared unblinkingly ahead at nothing in particular. Without saying a word he sat down on the floor beside her, his warm shoulder pressing against hers.

As soon as she felt the contact she started, her body going rigid next to him until she turned slightly as saw him staring ahead as well, his mouth formed into a pale line. She saw his dark eyes flash to hers uncertainly.

She pressed herself more against him, letting out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

They sat in comfortable silence, neither one of them willing to break it, fearing that the other would leave at the slightest word.

Finally, it was Faolan who spoke. “Hello,” he said, sounding quite unsure of himself. She smiled wryly at him and he blushed gently.

“Hey,” she replied back, just as softly.

He smiled back. It was a boy's smile, full of uncertainty and caring. She returned it and then turned back to the wall in front of her. On a whim she
laid
her head on his shoulder. He didn't move away.

Warmth
slowly curled in her chest, taking up silent residence just behind her ribs. She smiled softly. They would be alright, she told herself. Faolan cared.

It was a full hour before either of them spoke again. And again, it was Faolan who took that much needed step.

“I missed you,” he said hesitantly.

“Me too,” she readily admitted.

His eyes widened at her braveness and then she was pleased to see his face relax even more into the ready gentleness she thought of being simply him. It was a face he seemed to reserve just for her and only when they were alone in his rooms.

“If you want... I mean if you think it would be right...” he stammered, a warm blush forming over his cheeks. “Damn,” he said under his breath.

Isabelle slowly slid her hand into his, giving his fingers an experimental squeeze of encouragement.

It seemed to do the trick as Faolan looked at their entwined fingers resting on the cool stone floor, took a breath and started speaking again.

“It was... rash of me to have you go to another room. I should have asked your opinion of the situation first,” he said slowly, his tongue seeming to trip over what she had decided was an apology of sorts.

“Yes, you should have,” she said quickly.

“I only just assumed, you see-”

She turned fully to him, pulling their still linked hands onto her lap and looking him directly in his almost black eyes. “Never assume anything, please. I'm new at this, as I believe you are too. I missed you; I just started thinking of this room as being mine as well. I didn't want to leave you or it so soon.”

“But lying next to me, sleeping with me, you couldn't have enjoyed that. I'm a stranger to you after all,” he whispered, his voice broke several times as the realization seemed to fully enter his thoughts.

“And I'm a stranger to you as well,” Isabelle continued on, hoping to push that uncertainty from his mind. This was what she wanted. She wanted to be with him, for how long or why she couldn't even begin to guess at. But at that moment, being with him was all she wanted for herself in that small world they had built together.

“But,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes. “I want to be with you Faolan. I don't want to go through this alone, not here. Please just let me have that.” Her voice started to crack. Faolan quickly pulled her to him, her body melting into his as he held her comfortably in his lap, his strong arms wrapping around her as she whispered nonsense into his chest.

And, for the first time in years, Faolan allowed himself to feel all of what life had to give him as the good and the bad came crashing down around him as the young woman in his arms clung tightly to his chest.

By the time the sun set that night Isabelle was standing next to Faolan, her arm resting easily around his back as they watched the sun sinking slowly into the horizon before them. In the wardrobe her dresses were neatly hung. Her few possessions that she had brought from Nuer lay below them in a built in drawer. It hadn't taken long for her to move back in with Faolan, he
only had to snap his fingers and the servants obeyed his orders without a second thought. Isabelle had readily protested, saying that she could easily move her things from one room to another with only a few trips at the most. It wouldn't have taken her long at all.

But Faolan would hear none of it. She was his wife, he had said, his bride, his princess. He had become possessive in that minute, his hand sliding easily around her middle to rest on the small of her back as he pulled her close. But his words, along with the sheer fiery intent that lay behind them, had sent a thrill down her spine. She had melted into him, prepared to accept anything he proposed as long as he continued looking at her that way. What a gullible sissy lass she had become. Even she was ashamed of how she had been forced to look down and away, blushing under his intense gaze.

Her hand found his with the ease of an old couple. She squeezed his fingers, bringing his dark eyes to hers as she turned towards him, fascinated as the fading sunlight played against this black hair and reflected in his dark eyes, appearing almost as a fire within those black depths.

She couldn't resist him, she realized slowly. It had been a lost cause well before she had come back to their shared rooms. She wasn't entirely sure when she had fallen so completely for him, perhaps it had been going on for a while now.

All she knew now, standing next to him in the fading daylight, was that she most certainly could think of this as being the beginning tendrils of love. Strange, unnatural and wholly unexpected as it was, she had finally found love.

Chapter
Fourteen
 

Isabelle awoke slowly, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness of their bedchamber. Fully awake, she sat up and frowned at the empty half of the bed. She didn't care where Faolan spent the nights when he wasn't lying next to her. At least that's what she tried to tell herself. She angrily wiped away a salty tear and punched the pillow behind her. She would just sit up and wait for him. And when he got back she decided that she would question him and finally get some answers. He couldn't avoid her then. She crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw. An hour later she was bored and her eyelids were starting to feel heavy.

A few minutes later she was barely aware of the falling asleep as her head hit the pillow. Isabelle sat up suddenly, disoriented and confused, as she struggled to wake up. She turned quickly as she felt the bed dip next to her.

"Faolan?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes?" he sounded tired and worn out. There was a raspy harshness in his voice that made her wince.

"Where have you been? It's been hours," she hissed.

"Out," he grumbled into his pillow.

"I know that.
Where?"
He turned to look at her. She could hear his breath coming in short, painful gasps. "Faolan what's wrong?" she asked quietly, worry chasing away all other emotions.

"Go to sleep," he growled.

"No, I won't. Not until you tell me what's wrong and what happened to you tonight," she all but pleaded with him.

Isabelle reached out blindly into the darkness, meaning only to shake him, but as her fingers grazed his bare skin, she felt a cool wetness that instantly made her recoil from him. "Faolan..." she whispered.

"I told you to go to sleep," he snapped. Normally his tone would have made her close her mouth and leave him alone, but tonight she couldn't.

"Please tell me what happened," she pleaded.

He growled and waved his hand angrily at a nearby clump of tall candles. Instantly they sprang to life, washing the bed in a pale yellow glow that barely illuminated enough of the room
for Isabelle to make anything out. But she could see him and what she saw made her gasp and her stomach to clench tightly.

"Happy now?" he grumbled as he turned over on his back, giving her a full view of the sticky wet blood streaked across his naked torso. Her fingers trembled as she gingerly touched his torn shoulder. She kept her eyes locked on his closed lids just in case he decided to snap at her again. At the first touch of her fingertips against his cool skin Faolan hissed loudly, causing her to pull back sharply with a startled squeak. "Just... be careful," he gasped as his dark eyes opened slowly and then locked onto hers.

"What happened to you?" she asked, gulping nervously. She had already started running the possibilities through her head and none of them seemed possible, which scared her.