Chapter 1
Isolde The carriage gently bumped along the road, the sway familiar as it brought me closer to the castle. Most women in my position would have been overjoyed, but my stomach lurched at the reason for my return. I was nineteen and betrothed to a man I hadn’t seen since I was a toddler. Marrying was my duty as a daughter, I knew this. My mother’s letters over the years had driven the concept into my mind. Men went to war; women went to their chambers to be bedded and have their bellies swollen with children. It didn’t matter if my name held the title of princess.
Ultimately, I was the same as the livestock they kept in the barn. The only difference was, I knew my fate. In that sense, the animals seemed to have gotten the better end of the deal.
The buzzing of the marketplace surrounded me, but I didn’t draw the curtains to take a peek. In Abhainn, I had grown accustomed to a more country way of life. The sound of a running stream was music to my ears. But even with the Salted Sea not far behind me, the water felt distant. This city, although my birthplace, seemed foreign. Outside my coach, the merchants haggled, the goats being sold bleated, and the moans from the whorehouse alerted me that we were entering the capital. We bounced along, twisting through the narrow streets, the shadows moving like puppets behind the curtains. The horses began their climb to the top of the hill, each step bringing me closer to home. Different sounds announced we were entering the castle grounds, the distinct grinding of steel to raise the gates, and the heavy footsteps of guards walking in a hypnotic rhythm as they patrolled their posts.
The carriage brought me around back, near the stables as were the guards’ orders. I was not to be seen by the kingdom until the ceremony this evening. The carriage that carried me didn’t even bear our banner. It was intended to keep me safe, but it felt more like I was the unwanted child; the one that needed to be hidden away. God knows the heir was always meant to be Davious, not me.
When at last the carriage came to a halt and the men pulled away the curtains to allow the sunlight in, I stepped down, my feet touching the dirt of my homeland for the first time in a decade.
Amazing how things can look entirely different and yet completely the same. The stone castle was not as vast as my memories had conjured. The smells are not nearly as sweet and fragrant as I had imagined. The servants who doted on me as a child, now passed by, giving curt nods of recognition. Their faces seemed more like the remnants one would have of a dream. The essence is there, but the facts remain unclear.
Much to my dismay, my mother did not receive me. In her absence, she sent a lady-in-waiting with honey-colored hair and pink, rosy cheeks instead. The ladies’ maid curtseyed and bowed her head low, her brown eyes cast down at the muddy ground.
“Welcome home, princess. I hope your journey was not too straining. “The maid pulled me away from my thoughts. “The queen has placed me in your charge. My name is Posey. How might I be of service to you?”
“A bath would be divine. The hotter the better.”
Posey smiled and gave a nod in response. The neigh of my steed called my attention as a servant tried to pull him toward the stables.
“No! I’ll take him.”
“Begging your pardon, Lady Isolde,” said another servant whose face was covered in soot. I had a strong desire to have someone bring him a pail of water to douse himself with. “But it wouldn’t be fit if you were to take in your horse. I would be branded if such a thing were discovered.”
Branding was my father’s favorite form of punishment.
“No such thing shall occur. This horse is feisty and responds only to me and his previous master, who, unfortunately, could not journey back here. You are free to walk with me if it settles your nerves. Posey,” I turned to my new maid, who still stood there, refusing to enter the castle without me, “please see to it my chests are taken directly to my chambers and have my bath ready when I return. I shan’t be long.”
Posey chewed on her lip for a moment, but not about to argue with the future queen, she turned and scurried off to the castle.
Taking the reins from the servant’s hands, the beast instantly calmed down. His head no longer thrashed about but instead, his eyes focused on my own. “There you are.” I pat him as I spoke, long strokes down his nose. “You’ll like your new home, let’s go check it out, shall we?” I made a clicking sound with my tongue and gently tugged my chestnut stallion in the direction of his new accommodations.
The stench of the stables was comforting in an odd way. Dung is dung no matter where one travels.
“I’ll fetch Lorcan.” The nervous servant scampered away before I had a chance to inquire who Lorcan was. Another stable hand, I assumed. Turning to my horse, I placed my forehead on his soft nose.
“Shall we ride away as planned?” I whispered. The horse let out a low, guttural nicker in response.” You’re right. I don’t know where to go, either.” I sighed. “Perhaps tonight you’ll sprout wings, and in the morning, you can carry me off, away from my destiny.”
“I’m sure the look on the king’s face would be priceless.”
I turned away from my horse, startled, and faced the man who had snuck up on me. He placed his gloved hands in the air as if to surrender and gave me a bow, his green eyes remained focused on mine, the corner of his mouth pulling up in an impish grin. “I mean you no harm. I’m Lorcan Tarak. Fitz said you needed someone to see to your horse.”
If his initial comment hadn’t startled me, the sight of his hair surely would have. It was black, as if his head had been dipped in ink, and rather unruly, spiking out angrily in all directions. It was beautiful, but having never seen a man or woman with hair that color before, it was jarring. Everyone in this land believed the darker your hair, the more likely you were to have drinks with the devil. It was an old superstition, but a strong one amongst the peasants.
“Sorry. It’s the hair, right?” He straightened, pointed to his head, and gave me an embarrassed smile.
“My apologies for gawking like a fool.” I smiled sweetly at him, pulling the braid of my snow-white hair to my side. It fell to my hips. “You just surprised me is all.”
“Hmm. I seem to have that effect on people. Well, I can assure you it’s not contagious. Just some joke the gods played on me while I slept in my mother’s womb.”
“Oh.” I offered another small smile. “Who is your mother?” There was not any information I needed to know, but I was aware of how alone we were in the stables and felt the need to continue talking.
“Cora, the castle cook. She’s been preparing all week for your return.”
I forced another smile, no doubt the entire castle would be in a frazzled state in an attempt to please me. But the only thing that would please me would be an end to my betrothal. I wanted to return to Abhainn. The land was turning from a paradise to a swampy wasteland. I knew I could help, but I couldn’t help if I remained here.
“Well, please thank her in advance for all her hard work.” The stable boy flinched as though I had struck him. “What’s wrong? Did I offend you in some way?”
His smile deepened. “No, Princess Isolde. Just pleasantly surprised by how gracious you are.”
I didn’t like the way he looked at me. Perhaps it was just the contrast of his dark eyelashes
around his light eyes intimidating gaze. I couldn’t decide if his appearance was beautiful or wicked. “Right. Well, my horse is very dear to me. He has a temper, but the right touch can calm his edge.”
“You shouldn’t be riding a temperamental horse, princess. What is his name?”
I felt my mouth twist in disapproval. I loathed being told what I should and should not do. “Incendio. It means—”
“Fire. I know. Fierce name for the horse of a princess.” Lorcan laid a hand on the back of
Incendio’s head, but the horse shook his touch away.
Sinful good looks and educated as well, I noted. “Yes, he is spirited.” I felt my face soften into a foolish smile looking back at my horse. “I imagine he’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a dragon.” The dragons of my dreams ceased to exist before I uttered my first cry. The only proof they once claimed the skies above was their scales, which now adorned the armor of my father’s soldiers.
The stable boy scoffed at my comment, causing my cheeks to burn from my blush.
“Do you find me funny?”
“No, my princess.” He shook his head. “Just surprising.”
“Surprising?” Was he mocking me? I couldn’t tell.
Lorcan stepped closer and looked around, making sure no one was listening. His left eye narrowed into a squint. “Forgive me. I meant you no disrespect. It’s just…”
“Spit it out, stable boy. I do not have all day to dawdle.”
Lorcan, no longer able to meet my gaze, looked about the stable. He scratched at his wild hair as he tried to come up with the most tactful response. Then, sucking in his bottom lip, he leaned in. I felt my stomach jolt in an unfamiliar excitement. Perhaps it was simply his proximity as he whispered his response. “I wouldn’t expect the daughter of the dragon slayer to have a desire to see the fire breathers return. That’s all.”
My eyes narrowed in response. All my life I had desired nothing more than to see a dragon, knowing full well it was my father’s madness that had driven them to extinction. I often felt the stories Savio told of his valiancy and grandeur were more inflated fabrications than actual reality. But the leathery wings of Charon Drago mounted and nailed to the wall of the throne room like a banner of victory, made me question who was the villain in this twisted turn of fate.
“Know this now, I am not my father.” Turning on my heel, I exited the stable. But those twinkling green eyes and devilish locks of hair remained in my thoughts as I journeyed back to the castle.