Chapter 13
W hen I decided I would not live like this, a prisoner of a dragon-man who claimed I was his mate, I knew my plan would require forethought. I could not simply demand the Warkin return me to my island. What good would that do? He’d brought me here against my will, so he would not care that I wished to go back.
No, I would have to think of another way to convince him to take me home and allow me to stay there.
That night, the night I first confronted my prison warden, the night he told me I was his mate, I could not sleep. He’d left my room, my bed, which gave me space to think, and that is all I did for the rest of the night. Think, and think, and think.
Would it be better to go along with him? To pretend to be his mate? To feign acquiescence? Was pretense the key to liberty?
I abhorred the idea. I was not a pretender. I was unsure I could feign anything that well. Even if I could, what then? I pretended to agree I was his mate…what next? Might he insist on marrying me ?
I shuddered at the idea, even as my rebellious mind recalled the memory of his warm hand touching my face. Of how his skin had felt…
Well, I thought, sitting up in the darkness, tugging and twisting my nightclothes into place, truthfully, I was not sure how it had felt. It had not felt frightening. Or repulsive. Or cold. Or clammy. Or even dangerous. But what did that signify? Plenty of people did not come across as those things, even if they were.
Looping my arms around my upraised legs, I rested my chin on my knees, squinting into the darkness.
If I could not feign being his mate, could I take the pretension a different direction?
I longed for home. That was true. I’d been in this magical cave mere days, and, already, my loneliness deepened. I wished desperately to see my parents, my sisters. I wanted to let them know that I was alright—that the dragon who had carried me off had not devoured me, despite what we had all feared. I wanted someone to talk with—someone who wasn’t a mysterious dragon shapeshifter visiting my bed late at night and leaving before morning.
Might I convince him to take me home? At least for a visit? What then? I’d have to behave myself and play the long game. Go home, and create memories to live on when I returned to this cave. Have him bring me home again. Create more memories. Come back to his haunt. Live by his rules. Have him take me home again for a visit. And then…what? Sighing, I pressed my face to my knees.
I needed to buy myself time.
Which made me chuckle aloud, grimly.
Time. I raised my face, glancing about the dark cavern room. I’ve nothing except time.
I needed to find a productive way to spend the time, while simultaneously earning my captor’s trust. This would not, I feared, be a short mission. It might be a long one. It might take weeks. Months. Possibly years.
But I would prevail.
I had no intention of remaining captive to a beast for the rest of my life. I was far too young for that. I would redeem myself from the dragon’s captivity if it took every last year and breath in my body.
The idea came to me the following morning, while I was eating breakfast. Once it struck, I hurried through my meal, shoved the plate away, and hastened back into my room. I checked that my hands were clean before opening the wardrobe. There, gleaming on the shelf, was the folded length of blue satin.
I stared at it for several moments, wondering if I dared. It was so beautiful, practically glowing in the magical lights of the cavern. What if I messed it up? What if I ruined it?
Well, and what if I do? I reasoned.
Yes, it was beautiful, but it was simply lying there: unseen, unused, unwanted. At least, if I were to take it and craft something with it, I was giving it the chance to become something useful. Something extraordinary.
Bolstered, I pulled it out, carrying it to the long desk. Neena’s gift, the sewing pouch, would come in handy now. I hadn’t expected to have anything to do with it. I’d been wrong.
Were I a heroine in one of the Sanlyn’s grand tales of daring and bravery and boldness, I would have invented a far more interesting method of escape from a dragon’s cave. I was not. I had simply the tools and opportunities given me—which were not much. I had my sewing accessories and I had this beautiful satin. I had the will to fight for the patience I normally didn’t possess, and I had the burning desire to go home. Putting these things together meant—
Sewing a gown.
Yes. That was the first step of my plan—to begin sewing a gown.
Carefully, I spread the fabric over the desk, admiring its richness and glow, entranced. In my mind’s eye, I was already designing what sort of gown it would be and how I would style it. What I would do with it after it was finished, I didn’t know. But the gown was part of my plan, and would also keep me busy so I didn’t go mad, locked in the dragon’s domain.
Snapping my fingers, speaking into the gentle silence of the cave, I announced, “I need thread,” I said. “A quantity of it, that matches this gown. I also need scissors, and…” I went on listing everything I would need. I supposed I was taking a chance that the cave would provide my wants, instead of merely my needs, but I’d barely finished listing everything when a whisper of a sound from behind alerted me. I turned. There, sitting on the bed, was a woven basket with a lid and handles.
I shook my head, smiling grimly as I walked over to fetch it. I popped the lid off and inside, just as I’d hoped, was everything I had asked for. Everything I would need that my sewing pouch lacked.
This is, indeed, a cave of wonders.
Gathering up the basket, I took it back to the desk and set to work.