Dragon Rose(15)

Years of training had taught me to hold my tongue when necessary, so I remained silent as Sar continued fussing with my sleeves. After she was apparently satisfied with every loop and puff, she went to a tall cabinet across the room, and from the top drawer she brought forth a flat box that contained what appeared, to my unschooled eyes at least, a very princess’s ransom of treasures. From the gleaming jewels within she selected a necklace of gold and garnets and matching earrings. The necklace she placed around my throat, but she handed the earrings to me, obviously intending that I should put them on myself.

I did so without argument. No wonder the Dragon wished his Brides to come with no belongings of their own; he appeared quite able to provide them with whatever baubles they might require. Certainly the intricate drops of gold I slipped into my pierced ears put the simple garnet earrings I’d worn earlier to shame.

I noticed, however, that Sar gave me no rings to wear.

Instead, she returned to the cabinet, and drew forth a large hand-held mirror. “I believe he will be pleased.”

That seemed to be as close to praise as she got. I peered into the silvered glass and had to consciously prevent myself from gasping aloud in shock. Now, I was not one to deny my own prettiness—why should I, when it had very little to do with me and a great deal more to do with being lucky enough to have two handsome parents?—but even so I was not prepared for the reflection that stared back at me. My hair had been tamed into sleek curls that gleamed against the wine color of my bodice, and my lips were not far off from that same shade.

Despite the tension that still lay coiled in my stomach, I couldn’t help being pleased by what I saw. I guessed that quite a few people might not have even recognized me in my current guise. Then I had to laugh at myself, for of course it was a good deal easier to be beautiful when one had the luxury of spending hours to achieve such a state.

“Well enough,” I told Sar, and I thought I saw her lips quirk just a little.

“Not one to sing your own praises, eh? Wise, probably.” She glanced out the window, as if to determine the position of the sun, and her mouth settled into far more sober lines. “It’s time to go. He will be waiting for you.”

My mouth went dry then, and I wished I’d had the forethought to ask for some water or cider. Oh, well, I probably wouldn’t be the first of the Dragon’s Brides to utter her vows in a cracked whisper, if it came to that.

Sar went to the door and opened it, obviously expecting me to follow her.

I knew I had little choice. All I could do was follow this mad notion of mine to its conclusion…whatever that might be. So I lifted my chin and moved from the safety—however spurious it might be—of my chambers and into my unknown future.





Chapter Four





It seemed to me a bloody descent down the castle’s interminable stairs, but I knew that was only a trick of the sunset, which threw a carmine cast over everything. Still, the peculiar light only served to increase the sensation of foreboding that seeped slowly through me, like a dark flood. To make matters worse, I saw no one else during our descent, not one servant or other member of the household. I wondered then exactly how many people served the Dragon. Sar had made it sound as if there weren’t that many, a contrast to the bustling households of even the wealthy residents of Lirinsholme, which certainly was not known for its grand style. The lord of Black’s Keep liked his privacy, apparently.

At last we reached what I thought was the ground floor. Sar led me down the enormous vaulted corridor that seemed to divide that level of the structure, until at last we stopped before a set of double doors barred with intricate black ironwork.

“Go on,” she said, after opening the one to the right.

I realized she intended me to enter on my own. Although I had only known her for a few short hours, it seemed to me then that she was the only familiar thing in my world. How could I possibly be expected to go forward to confront the Dragon alone, without a single friendly face to serve as my witness to this unnatural union?

Her expression softened as she gazed at me, at my obvious hesitation. She said, in the gentlest tones I’d yet heard from her, “It will be all right. Be brave.”

That did hearten me a little. After all, I’d had the courage to step forward and offer myself in Lilianth’s place. Now I must summon that same will to finish what I had started.

So I stepped past her and moved inside the chamber.

It, too, was constructed on a grand scale, the vaulted roof the height of a tall man several times over. The last traces of sunset painted the carved panels on the walls in flickering shades of russet and wine, the only light in the room, except for a pair of tall, thick candles, each sitting on its own waist-high pillar of dark marble. As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw the figure of a man standing between the two pillars and started—until I realized he was quite elderly, and wearing the dark grey robes of a priest of Inyanna. Not my intended, then.

The priest extended his arms. “Come forward, child.”

For one wild instant I had the notion to turn and run, to bolt through those double doors and out of the castle as quickly as my feet could carry me. Then I realized how mad it would be to try to outrun an enraged dragon on foot. Besides, I had offered myself as the Dragon’s Bride. I could not back out now, even if my heart hammered in my chest and my hands felt like ice.