Chapter 19
Isolde No longer welcome in the castle, Lorcan shifted into the dragon and carried us back to the meadow. I feared they would come after us in the night, so Lorcan remained in his dragon form to set my mind at ease while I slept under the protection of his wing. You would think sleeping against a rock-hard-scaled dragon would be uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was soothing. His body was warm, and his wing though strong was soft.
We awoke at first light, and though I knew Lorcan could easily defeat Raelan as the dragon, I doubted his swordsmanship. He was a stable boy; how could he defeat a man trained in fighting? And what if Raelan broke the rules? Did not just stop by taking first blood but run him through? Even I knew it would be foolish not to kill the only remaining dragon.
Lorcan flew to his cottage where he shifted back into a man, and I gave him a larger, more suitable cloak to conceal his nudity. I had taken it from the castle before we left. Once inside, the shrieks of his mother could be heard by Abhainn. “My boy! I heard such unimaginable tales! Is it true what they say about the king? About you? About the tournament today?”
Lorcan smiled warmly, slipped up to his loft to obtain some proper clothes, then sat her down and explained everything as best he could.
“You challenged the prince?” Cora’s eyes were wide in alarm.
“I had to. My fight was with Savio, and that fight has ended. But as long as Savio’s heir still presses his claim to the throne…I had no choice.”
“You could have killed him,” I mumbled.
Lorcan shot me a disappointed look. “I don’t kill to take what I want. That’s how the Fontaine’s came into power in the first place.”
He was right. I couldn’t argue with his logic no matter how much I wanted to. “It’s almost time.”
I said, knowing the bells would begin to toll soon, drawing the kingdom into the arena.
“What can I do, Lorcan? How can I help?” Cora asked.
“You can get me my father’s sword.”
Cora’s lip began to tremble at the mention of Lorcan referring to Barin as his father. She
returned not only with his sword but his soldier’s uniform as well. It was metal and steel, not the scales of the current army. “Let’s get you suited up.”
****
Fitz had given Cora, Ashes, Lorcan’s horse, when he was taken prisoner. He knew Lorcan would not be returning to the stables, but as the horse belonged to him, he made sure it came back to his possession. Lorcan swung a leg over and mounted him with ease.
He straightened his back and trotted over to me. I felt my face blush as he had caught me admiring him. He offered me his hand, and I pulled myself up, wrapping my arms around his waist. “With all this armor on, I can barely feel your touch.”
I lifted myself and kissed the exposed part of his neck. “I’m right here.”
He turned around and kissed me, pushing my mouth open with his tongue. I had heard of how the soldiers kissed their women farewell before they rode off to war, but I never understood until now. He ended the kiss too soon, leaving me dizzy with desire. Resting my cheek against his back, I sighed as the horse rocked us in a familiar rhythm.
“Funny. After riding you, this seems so small.”
Lorcan burst out in laughter.
“What?”
“Nothing, I’ll just take that as a compliment, my princess.”
We rode to the castle. The city seemed deserted as the bells tolled, and I knew the arena must be packed. Either that or everyone still feared the return of the dragon. The guards gave us no problem at the gates and escorted us up the winding road that led to the arena. When we entered, there were shouts from the stands, but it was impossible to tell if the people were for him or against him. The sigil of the House of Fontaine flew high, waving in the wind like the ripples of the sea. The blue banner with the white tree surrounded by a circle of silver water family colors. Between each blue banner flew one solid black one to mark the death of Savio. Since he was burned, there would be no burial. There were enough witnesses for the knights to deliver the news. Perhaps his ashes had been taken to the Salted Sea. It was strange that I had to guess and simply did not know.
Lorcan dismounted and offered me his hand to help me off of Ashes. I took in the crowd. The people of the court had seats under the canopy. My mother was there, dressed in black as she publicly mourned her king. The arena was alive with excitement. Food, drink, and jesters. The commoners stood packed in by the overlook, straining their eyes to see history unfold. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of red hair. Jonathan, Fitz’s son, stood with his father, and Cora. She seemed calmer than the morning of the public punishment, but still, her nerves were tangible.
Trumpets blared, and Raelan rode out, his squire among his many guards. He was dressed in the king’s armor, the flesh of Charon protecting his precious skin. The kingdom, trained to adore the House of Fontaine, cheered as he rode in a circle, his blue, white, and silver sigil flapping behind him. I looked over at Lorcan, who was on the opposite side of the arena, tightening his armor one final time.
After Raelan’s parade, he rode over to me and leaned forward. “The people are confused as to why their princess and future queen are on the field. There is adequate room in my canopy. You do not want to confuse the commoners by giving them false hope.” His white horse trotted around me, Raelan’s smile glamorous and inviting. I thought of what a facade he was and felt my stomach lurch at the thought of how our marriage would be a never-ending spectacle. His horse stopped in front of me once more.”
Come, Isolde. Set the example. Show them who they should be cheering for.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing.”
Raelan clucked his tongue. “You could have had everything. A palace. A kingdom-even a child with frosted hair and blue eyes to ogle over. I would have given you that. You may not have ever loved me, but you would have loved our child. This is the last time I will ever offer that life to you.”
I remained frozen, the contempt in my eyes clear for him to see.
He swayed on his horse as it circled me once more. “Very well. You have publicly chosen to spread your legs like a common whore. There is no room for whores in my kingdom.”
I looked past him to my mother, who eyed me with a stern expression. Even after the filth Savio had sprouted yesterday of what he had done to Lorcan’s true mother, after hearing that it was Raelan who poisoned her king, would she still want me tethered to this house? I placed my hand on the horse and stroked his mane, and looked up at Raelan. “I would rather be Lorcan’s whore than your queen.”
“Too bad he won’t live to further serve you.” Raelan gave his horse a swift kick, forcing me to jump back as he rode to the opposite side of the arena.
“Lorcan!” I ran over to him as he made sure his saddle was buckled on properly. “He means to kill you. He’s not going for first blood. He’s out for all your blood.”
Lorcan looked at Raelan across the field, his eyes showing no concern at my words. “You knew this,” I gasped, but he only shrugged. “You knew he would not play by the rules?”
Lorcan tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “My princess, he tried to poison his uncle, the king. Did you truly think he would surrender his kingdom so easily?”
The magistrate who had overseen Lorcan’s punishment entered the arena and called out the rules of the tourney. “Three trials shall take place. The first is head-on, horse to horse. Each rider will come at the other and try to strike their opponent’s shield. The second trial shall be an attempt to dismount the other rider from their horse. Should one challenger win both trials, he is given the advantage of wearing his armor in the last challenge. The third trial, should no victor prevail, shall be the removal of armor and hand-to-hand combat. The first challenger to draw blood wins the true title of king.”
The arena erupted in applause. I closed my eyes and prayed for Lorcan’s victory. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. He dipped his forehead against mine. “I know what is worth fighting for. Do not fret.”
“I-I love you, Lorcan.”
“This is not goodbye, Isolde. This is where our story begins.” He kissed me again, and I committed every twist of his tongue to memory. When he released me, he put his helmet on and mounted his horse.
“Wait!” I rushed out to the field and pulled the blue ribbon from my hair. Lorcan lowered his lance and I tied it on to the end so that my favor could be seen by all the kingdom. It was the color of Fontaine, making it clear where my loyalties lie.
Raelan’s squire stepped out into the middle of the field, waved the white flag, and sent the two men charging at each other. I dared not breathe as they got closer, and then the sound of Lance crashing against shields could be heard by all. The men continued to ride, the dust from the horses making it impossible to see whose shield was shattered. My heart lightened knowing that if Lorcan had to be without his armor in the third trial, then so did Raelan.
When the dust settled and the riders were back in position, it was clear: neither man still carried his shield. The magistrate walked to the center and called out, “Trial one ends in a tie!” The crowds groaned in response, they wanted blood-but who did they crave?
The horses got in position again, and once more the squire walked out to the center and waved his flag before running out of the way of the charging men. The men charged each other and held their lances steady but remained on their horses. Raelan turned his horse before reaching the end of the tilt and came charging back, his lance extended. He hooked it under Lorcan’s arm and shoved him off of his horse.
“Cheater!” I cried, but my shouts were lost to the cheers of the people. Either they truly loved the House of Fontaine or were terrified of their new royal heir.
Lorcan lay on his back for a moment, and I tried to calm my hysteria with the knowledge that he was a shifter, and even if he had broken something, he would heal. But would he heal in time to fight Raelan?
He was helped up by his assigned squires and waved his hand to alert the crowd or perhaps, me that he was all right. Raelan was already out of his armor and swinging his sword at the far end of the tilt.
When they took Lorcan out of his armor, I noticed him favoring his left arm. The one he had landed on. The physician was called to the field, and I went to his side but was pulled back. I turned in alarm to find Posey. “What are you doing here?”
“I could say the same for you, princess. Your champion is lame, and when Raelan draws first blood, then what? What will become of you?”
I pulled my hand away. “This fight is not over yet.”
“My princess, I fear by the end of the day your head will be on a spike for treason. Please, I beg of you…throw yourself before Raelan and beg forgiveness. If you do so before the court and the kingdom, he will look kind and just for granting you mercy.”
“I kneel before no one.” Wanting to push her away, I grabbed her arm, and she howled in pain. Tearing at her sleeve, I saw her skin blistered and burned with the sigil of Fontaine. “And here my father said he did not brand women.”
“He didn’t my princess. Raelan did.” Her eyes glistened with tears.
“It was my punishment for…” She did not say the words, too afraid to speak the truth. “He said if I spoke, I would lose my tongue as well.”
“This needs to end, and right now, Lorcan is our only chance.” We headed over to Lorcan, who was still wincing from the pain in his left arm. “Is it broken?” I asked.
Lorcan nodded. “Yes. I think so.”
“If he forfeits, Raelan is pronounced the victor,” the magistrate said.
“No one is forfeiting.” Lorcan’s face was masked in determination. Without his armor on, it was
clear he was drenched in sweat. The sun was hot, and the broken limb could produce a fever. I didn’t know how quickly sickness worked in the body of a shifter, but he did not look well.
“Is that your sword arm?” I asked already knowing the answer. Again, Lorcan nodded. He stood up and the crowd cheered, no doubt they were happy to have the final challenge still commence. Lorcan ran his fingers through my hair and drew me close in an intimate, heartfelt kiss.
“In case you did not know, I love you, too.” Then he walked out into the arena and prepared to end this war for good.