Chapter 8
Yalina
Master Harmer visits me over my morning chocolate. Birds are playing in the fountain in the courtyard below my balcony, and the morning still has a crisp chill to the air. I turn away with regret.
He bows low. “Good news, Light of the Sun. Prince Aurelion has confirmed that you are a match.”
“He has?” I sigh. I half hoped he would reject me and I would not have to seriously consider him. He is so odiously pompous and overbearing.
“Now we may proceed with the betrothal.” He bows again and looks like he is about to leave.
I hold up my hand quickly. “Wait.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure about the prince. I know it would be a good match. I just… need a little more time. To consider.”
To his credit, the pleasant smile on Master Harmer’s face doesn’t shift one inch. “Of course, Light of the Sun. That’s very wise. Might I offer one small word of advice in the matter?”
“Go ahead.”
“Do not delay too long. The prince is an impatient creature. Dragons in general do not like to wait once they have found their chosen mate. And the prince is… well, he is used to having his own way.”
Isn’t that the truth of it? I don’t say anything. He has read the situation well enough that I do not need to.
With another sigh, I thank him and turn back to my breakfast, but though the tiny pastries are expertly prepared and crumble perfectly in my mouth, it tastes like ashes this morning.
I pinch some between my fingers and sprinkle it onto the tiles, smiling when the little birds from the courtyard flit through the columns on the balustrade to snatch up the crumbs.
At least someone can enjoy my breakfast.
If only I thought there was a real choice here. If only I could follow my heart, but I was born a solha of Vathira and my first responsibility is to my people.
Even my plants look limp that afternoon.
Their leaves droop, and the glossy green seems dull.
The greenhouse has always been my escape, but I’m certain they feel my heavy mood.
I mist a little more water over my prized pink orchid, but my enjoyment is spoiled by the knot of guilt in my belly when I think of the fact there are families in the city who could use this water.
The water shortage is another reason in favor of the match with Prince Aurelion.
Tarquenor is north of Vathira. Between us is disputed territory where the Vaal and Fynister rivers have their source in the Polara.
My father intended to build an aqueduct running from the hills to the city to bring fresh water directly here but was always too worried about angering the Tarquenorian king, Aurelion’s brother.
Hopefully with our two kingdoms united, the work can go ahead.
I sigh. I’m bending to fill the misting bottle from my pail when a voice from behind me makes me jump.
“Ah, so this is where the solha hides when she wants to be alone.”
I whirl around to find Aurelion smirking at me. Today he is dressed in golden silk, a Tarquenorian style of loose trousers with a sleeveless tunic which leaves his arms bare and his wings and muscular form on display.
Too startled for diplomacy, I let out a very undignified grunt. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I was hunting for you.” The way he phrases that sends a skitter of awareness down my spine. I realize we are very much alone. Even my servant waits outside the greenhouse so I may be completely alone. Why would they let him in without announcing him first?
His gaze roves completely unimpeded over my face and figure. He makes no effort to hide it either which annoys me.
“You should not look at me like this.”
His grin grows broader. “A mere formality, surely. Am I not allowed to look on my future bride? A little glimpse of the future.”
“I believe you got more than a glimpse the other day.” He has me flustered. I should get a better hold on my temper, but the more he stares at me like he wants to finish what he started the other day in the audience chamber, the more I lose my cool.
“That only whet my appetite for you.” He steps closer, and I retreat until my back brushes the leaves of one of my plants. If I step back further, I’ll knock them from their shelf and crack the pots.
I straighten to my full height, which is still a good two feet shorter than the prince, but it’s all I’ve got. “You should remember where you are, Aurelion. I am still sovereign here.”
“Not without a husband, I think, Light of the Sun.” He steps forward again, and this time I feel his hot breath on my skin.
He leans even closer, reaching up to push aside my hair, exposing my neck.
And like an idiot, I stand there and let him do it.
I cannot seem to make my body move or my lips work to form a protest.
Aurelion growls, and the sound rumbles through me as he dips his head. “My appetite for you only grows the more you fight me, Solha.” He licks a line up my neck to the base of my ear.
I shudder. I don’t know whether I’m aroused or frightened. I do know I’m incredibly angry, and it’s that I draw on.
Gathering my strength, I plant my hands on his chest and push hard. “Back off.”
He hardly moves, but I manage to slip around him. Every instinct in me is screaming to run, but something tells me that would be a mistake.
Very carefully I walk to the door of the greenhouse, keeping my back to him. “Please enjoy my greenhouse and my palace, but do not presume to take more than that. Not until I decide whether or not we will actually be wed.”
His low laughter follows me out of my sanctuary, and I try not to cringe at the thought of him alone in my special place.
What an arrogant ass he is to enter there uninvited.
Both of us have gone so far beyond the bounds of propriety and diplomacy.
But that doesn’t seem to put him off. In fact, he seemed to like it when I was rude to him.
What hope do I have to put him off if that is so?
Perhaps even an outright rejection will not deter him.
The thought chills me despite the warmth of the day. Clutching my arms around myself, I hurry back to my rooms and instruct the guards at the door to let nobody pass.
I cancel my meeting with my advisors that afternoon. Instead I lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling wishing I had a choice—any choice.
With Aurelion as my husband I might disappear quietly like a waterbird slipping silently beneath the surface of the river, my will subsumed into his. Forgotten. A mere trophy on his shelf.
But is the price of my people’s security worth my sacrifice? I hate that no matter which way I look at it, the answer feels like a yes.