The Dragon's Price (Transference #1)(54)



My heart starts thumping. “Wait. This?” I press one hand to my chest, and then cross my two pointer fingers. “This means I love you?”

She crosses her fingers and says, “Friend.” Pressing on her chest, she adds, “Of my heart. Or heart friend. That is how the horse clan says, I love you.”

My body overflows with warmth. I look at Golmarr and find him staring at us with his head tilted slightly to the side, and I am wrapped in such a feeling of peace I can’t help but smile despite the death surrounding me.

“Why did you choose the dragon?” Melisande asks again.

“Because being eaten alive seemed like a better choice than going home with my father or the horse clan,” I say, staring at Golmarr’s back and broad shoulders as he talks to Edemond. “I was a fool. If I could do it all over again, I would just outright ask to be betrothed to Golmarr.”

“So you love him, too?” Melisande asks.

“I don’t know what being in love feels like. The thought of not being with him hurts. And when I kissed him last night…” I swallow.

Melisande fans her face and clears her throat. “Yes, I think we all felt the attraction there.” She looks over my shoulder. “That was some kiss you shared with your wife last night, young horse lord.”

My skirts swish against my legs as I flip around and find Golmarr standing behind me holding the reins of a saddled horse in one hand and a saddlebag in the other. He has a bow and quiver strapped to his back, and a mischievous smile graces his face. “I can’t keep her hands off me,” he says, but then he frowns. “She’s not truly my wife—you know that.”

“I suppose not. But she should be!” she blurts.

Golmarr shrugs, and his clean-shaven cheeks turn bright pink beneath his tan skin. “Maybe one day she’ll agree with you,” he says, looking at me.

“Maybe she already does.” Melisande winks at me, and I stiffen. She laughs and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Goodbye, Princess Sorrowlynn. I will never forget that you saved my life today.”

Edemond and Enzio, leading another horse, approach us. Edemond stands behind his wife and puts his arms around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I hear we owe you thanks for her life, Princess Sorrowlynn,” he says. “To repay the debt, my son would like to travel with you.”

Enzio, armed with a bow and a short sword strapped diagonally across his back, steps forward and goes down on one knee before me. “If you will have me, Princess Sorrowlynn, I will cross the forest with you and Prince Golmarr and see you safely to Anthar. I will fight at your side until I have saved your life, thereby repaying my family’s debt to you.”

The people moving about camp stop what they are doing and gather around us. “Please, Enzio, there is no need to kneel to me,” I whisper. “No one has ever knelt at my feet before.” Enzio makes no move to stand.

Golmarr steps to my side. Leaning close, he whispers, “You call yourself a princess? He is offering you his protection. Refusing him will dishonor his family. Thank him and accept his service!”

I firm my shoulders and try to soften my face to regal gratitude. “Yes, Enzio. Thank you. I accept.” The glade erupts in quiet cheering as Enzio stands. He holds his head high and proud.

“Thank you, my son,” Melisande says, kissing Enzio’s cheek.

Golmarr claps Enzio on the shoulder. “Thank you. Your presence will be a great relief. I am happy to have you along.” Golmarr mounts his horse, and Enzio mounts his. Taking my staff from me, Golmarr slides it into a strap attached to the saddle. I stare at the two mounted men and wonder where my horse is. Golmarr lowers a hand down to me. “You’re riding behind me,” he says. A young man kneels at my feet and cups his hands for me to step into. I put my red leather shoe into his hands and grasp Golmarr’s wrist and they swing me up behind the saddle. My skirt crawls up to my knees, and as I move to yank it down, I pause. Every person in this camp has already seen my naked legs. Sighing with resignation, I lightly put my hands on Golmarr’s waist and wonder what my mother would say if she could see me now.

With Enzio in the lead, we ride out of the clearing, and the children run alongside us, throwing flowers before our horses’ hooves and blowing kisses at me. I smile at them and blow kisses in return. “She blew a kiss at me,” some of them squeal. As the forest thickens around us, the children stop running and instead call goodbye.

We haven’t been riding long when I realize my body is so heavy that I can barely sit straight. I reach my hand up to stifle a yawn, and it is trembling. Throwing propriety to the wind, I wrap my arms around Golmarr’s waist and clasp my hands in front of him. Turning my head sideways, I lean it between his shoulder blades and close my eyes. Within seconds, the steady beat of his heart combines with the gentle motion of the horse and lulls me to sleep. As darkness claims my exhausted body, my hands slide apart and I start to tip, so I jolt awake. I clasp them once more, and this time Golmarr wraps his hand around them, holding them securely together.

He turns and looks at me over his shoulder. “You’re battle weary. Sleep, Sorrowlynn. Sleep. I won’t let you fall off.”





A spear flies at me, and I roll out of the way. When I get to my feet, I am standing on a hillside, and below me the ground is crawling with armed men. I know the men with the red griffin emblazoned on their shields. They are my men. I am their commander. I am the one who planned this attack. We will destroy the Antharian barbarians, and when we do, we will claim their land and their women and children for my king. My king will rule from the northern cliffs all the way to the southern sea.

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