Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Two years later
Gerard landed in the courtyard of the White Monastery, tucking his wings against his body. A second later, Senta set down beside him.
Gerard closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on an image of himself as human. The shift took him. His neck pulled in. Limbs contorted. Dragon scales became soft skin. His tail retracted and disappeared completely.
He took a deep breath, taking a second to settle into his human form.
Two servants strode forward, handing him and Senta the clothing they had worn before they’d shifted and gone out for their usual pre-dawn flight. The two silently and quickly dressed. Lastly, Gerard put his black eye patch over his right eye.
They turned and strode into the upper part of the White Monastery.
“I needed that.” Senta rolled her shoulders. “After last night, I had some tension to work out.”
“Me too,” Gerard said.
They walked along the corridor, passing servants and monks.
“I still can’t believe how Luther behaved last night,” Senta said.
Gerard exhaled. “I wish I could say I was surprised. But he has never taken duty seriously.”
“You’re right. But what a way to act when your betrothal is announced!
” Senta’s lip curled. “It’s one thing to be displeased about who you are going to marry, it’s another thing entirely to get publicly and very obviously drunk and then stumble around!
He disgraced our family! He disgraced Draconia! ”
“Warden Flint didn’t seem happy with his betrothed either,” Gerard pointed out. “But at least he knew how to act about it. He just glowered with disapproval at Luther—”
“Which we also did last night,” Senta interjected.
Gerard nodded. “And neither we nor Warden Onyx caused a scene.”
She sighed. “I know he is our brother. But fire and fucking flames! He needs to learn how to behave! I’ll act better when my betrothal is announced.”
“Even if you hate them?” Gerard asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“Of course! And don’t pretend you won’t conduct yourself properly as well.” She shook her head. “What was Luther thinking?”
Gerard didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He and his sister, whether from their joint training or from their shared blood, tended to agree on most things. They believed in duty and doing what was best for Draconia, even if that meant shoving aside their own wishes.
Right now, that meant that he and Senta, as well as their brothers, Luther and Konrad, must marry their recent enemies in order to forge a peace treaty.
Of course they did not wish to marry those they had recently been trying to kill. But he and Senta understood the need for peace. The war had caused so much destruction and had greatly weakened Draconia. It had to end.
Gerard had fought, bled, lost half his eyesight, and almost died for Draconia. Now he’d marry for it.
They strode towards the rooms provided for the royal family of Draconia in the White Monastery. It was here at the White Monastery where individuals from the different kingdoms had gathered to create the peace treaty to end the war that had raged for twenty years.
Their cousin Albert walked down the corridor in their direction, alongside Lady Elke, a minor lady from Draconia.
“Cousins.” Albert nodded at them in greeting.
“Your Highnesses.” The lady bowed.
“Morning,” Senta said.
Gerard inclined his head as they passed.
Lady Elke glanced at Gerard’s face. Then quickly looked away. But Albert’s gaze lingered, scanning Gerard’s scars.
Gerard’s jaw clenched. But he kept his head high, refusing to let anyone make him lower his head in shame. As they walked away, he heard his cousin and Lady Elke whisper but couldn’t make out their words. His shoulders tensed.
Are they talking about me? My face?
“I wonder when Father will decide who we will marry,” Senta said, clearly not giving their cousin or the lady a second thought. “I wonder who we will marry.”
Gerard forced himself to focus his attention on her and her words. “I doubt Father will consult us much on the topic.”
Honestly, Gerard didn’t have a real preference. He had briefly met several of those who might be considered. But he had no inkling if he wanted to marry any of them.
Gerard just hoped they would behave with dignity. And he hoped they would not find his appearance … repulsive. He adjusted his eye patch.
Whilst he’d been temporarily blinded in both eyes, the left had recovered.
The right had not. He also still bore the scars of the lightning strikes that had hit him.
Scars caused by lightning sorcerers were so distinct that everyone who saw him would immediately know what a Voltarian had done to him.
“He will no doubt marry us to high-born individuals. No minor lords or ladies for his children,” Gerard said.
“And he won’t marry you, me, or Konrad to an heir of another kingdom. The three of us need to remain in Draconia.”
Gerard, the dragon warrior prince, would one day be grand dragon warrior and be in charge of the Draconian military. Currently his aunt had that role.
Meanwhile, Senta was his spare. If something happened to him, she’d take on the role instead. If Gerard didn’t die, she would be his second in command. And since Konrad was the crown prince and heir to the throne, all three needed to remain within Draconia.
Senta glanced around the empty corridor. “And since Luther is already betrothed to Warden Onyx from the Grey Mountains and Konrad will be betrothed to someone from Necros, that leaves someone from Botanial or the combined Kingdoms of Zephyrias and Voltaria for us.”
Gerard nodded. The plan was that four of the king’s children would marry someone from each of the different kingdoms, counting the Kingdoms of Zephyrias and Voltaria as one, as they were combined and ruled by one royal couple.
Gerard didn’t know how he felt about the idea of marrying someone from Voltaria. After all, it was one of their lightning sorcerers who had almost killed him. They would have killed him if not for Senta.
Senta had found him unconscious and half-dead. She’d flown off and brought a healer to him. They’d only just managed to save Gerard’s life.
Of course, even if he’d truly been opposed to the idea of marrying someone from Voltaria, he would not have voiced that to his father.
His comfortableness should not be taken into consideration regarding who he should marry.
He could tolerate being uncomfortably married for the rest of his life if that was what he needed to do for his kingdom.
“I hope I don’t marry someone who behaves like Luther. I want someone who I can respect,” Senta said. “If I get along with them, it’s a plus. If they’re pretty, that’s a definite plus.” She laughed.
Gerard chuckled even as his stomach sank.
No one had ever described Gerard as pretty. But once upon a time, he’d been thought handsome. Very handsome, in fact.
Not anymore, of course. Not since the lightning strikes had taken half his eyesight and all his looks. The scarring extended across half his face and down his neck. And across his torso and shoulder.
No future spouse will find me attractive.
They passed the Draconian guards and entered their quarters.
“See you in a bit,” Senta said as she headed to her room.
Gerard headed to his own. He prepared and dressed properly for the day. Earlier, he’d just thrown on some clothes to go for their morning flight.
As he pulled on his well-made but rather plain clothes, he steadily avoided gazing into the mirror. Ever since the attack, he’d struggled to look at himself. He buttoned up his trousers.
His heart picked up as, unbidden, an image of the sorcerer in the blue robes came into his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut. He could see that masked face, white with gold zigzags, staring up at him.
He’d thought himself a match for one single lightning sorcerer. How wrong he’d been. He could see the flashing fingers of the lightning sorcerer, weaving and then flicking forward.
Then pain. So much pain.
Gerard exhaled, forcing his fingers to release the buttons of his trousers. He opened his eyes and tugged on his tunic.
He’d not known about the elite lightning sorcerers, or lightning archmages as they were called, until that attack. No one in Draconia had. They’d lost dragons to lightning sorcerers before. But it had always been assumed it had been a cell, not an individual.
After all, everything they’d known about lightning sorcerers was that they were not strong enough to work on their own.
Sometimes when Gerard slept, he dreamed of that masked face. Some nights he even woke up drenched in sweat, body trembling, his one good eye searching his dark room for the figure who’d almost killed him.
Draconia now knew about lightning archmages.
They hid their faces to hide their identities so they would not become targets of assassinations.
They wore dark-blue robes. They did not need the engraved bracers other sorcerers used to control their powers.
It was said they trained in secret, secluded and far from the cities.
Which was good. He did not wish to be introduced to any lightning archmages.
The attack had raised questions regarding other dragons who’d been found dead whilst travelling alone. After his attack, dragons flew in small squadrons when they scoured the lands, in case they came across another of these archmages.
He pulled on his dark leather coat and buttoned it. Still, he kept his gaze averted from the mirror.
Gerard had never been vain, frivolous, or interested in the latest fashions. But he’d been confident in his looks. He’d taken care in his wardrobe and with his appearance, wanting to represent Draconia and bring honour to his family.
There was no point now. He knew what he looked like. So he stuck to well-made but simpler styles of clothing. But he would not complain about the disappearance of his good looks. After all, he’d survived the attack.
He doubted the sorcerer had.
Gerard had smashed into the cliff face above the Voltarian. He’d been blinded, but he’d felt the rock give and crumble. It would have fallen and crushed the sorcerer. He doubted the individual could have gotten away.
And the sorcerer would have continued to attack him if they’d not been harmed. Wouldn’t they?
He went to the dresser and picked up the small emerald-and-gold dragon pin and attached it to his coat.
Finally he opened a small wooden box. He reached in and pulled out a simple black titanium ring hanging from a chain. His mother’s ring. He stroked the cool metal band. As a boy, Gerard had spun it on his mother’s long fingers. Now it was Gerard’s.
It had never fit him. Not as an adult, anyway. For most of his life, he’d worn it on a chain around his neck. Over the years, he’d thought he might give it to his spouse one day.
Gerard swallowed. He’d always known he’d make a political marriage. Love and affection would not enter the equation.
Still, he’d sometimes imagined his spouse wearing this ring and smiling at Gerard with something other than polite respect. Perhaps with affection. The two could become more than just two figures forced to marry for political purposes.
He hung the chain around his neck and tucked the ring beneath his clothes. He turned, and for a split second, he caught sight of his face in the mirror.
His lip twitched, tugging on the scarred skin.
Thankfully, it did not hurt anymore. But the wound still stood out so starkly. He’d tried to grow a beard to cover at least part of the scarring. But the hair would not grow in properly. So he’d given up.
He took a deep breath. He adjusted the eye patch, careful to avoid touching the uneven skin.
Perhaps he had once had some chance of his future spouse feeling affectionate towards him. But now? Now Gerard would be lucky if he married someone who could tolerate the sight of him.