Chapter 8
brIGID
The dream is over when I wake up, the bed empty. I pat the pillow beside me, finding a folded note on top.
I flop on my back and read it.
Dearest Hellcat,
Last night was amazing. I hope you’ll grant me the pleasure of joining me for a private luncheon in the throne room at noon. I want to talk to you about a special arrangement before the Solstice Ball begins.
Yours truly,
Matty
I press the paper to my eyes and groan. “An arrangement?”
Last night was amazing, and I’d love to repeat it, but Matty is choosing a mate tonight, and I don’t want her to be one of those monarchs who keeps a mistress.
I want her to be different. I want to believe that loyalty and true love exist.
Crumpling the note, I get out of bed and wander over to a pastry platter sitting on the counter. I take one of the sweets, my teeth breaking through the powdered sugar crust and into the jelly filling. After everything Matty told me, I refuse to believe she was only putting on an act for me.
She is different. A true romantic. Maybe her nerves are just clouding her judgment.
I’ll meet with her today and talk her out of this arrangement, but after she chooses a mate, I’ll keep my distance. That thought gives me a sinking feeling in my gut, but there’s no time to dwell on it.
Someone is knocking on the cabin door. Pulling my robe on, I pad across the floor and fling it open, shielding myself from the flurries blowing in.
A teacup dragon flits about in the doorway, her pink wool cap a few shades lighter than her fuchsia scales. “Hello, miss. My name is Zalea. The Queen has sent me to help you get ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“The ball, of course.”
I look down at my borrowed robe and run my fingers through my tangled hair. “I’m not invited.”
“Sure you are, silly,” she says, flying into the cabin. She picks one boot up at a time and tosses them at me. “There’s a lot of work to be done, so we’d better run along.”
She gestures for me to put my shoes on, and I oblige, following her out into the snow.
I don’t know why Matty would invite me to the party.
My wardrobe is limited, and I’m not a fine lady, but perhaps I’m only questioning her motives because I’m apprehensive about watching her announce her mate. Oh well.
I keep my concerns to myself as Zalea leads me through a back corridor and into a lavish octagonal room with eight windows letting plenty of light in.
There’s a large tub filled with bubbly water, a rack full of dresses, a vanity with all sorts of powders and creams, and a plush carpet surrounded by four standing mirrors.
Zalea sticks her head out the door and whistles, summoning several other castle maids. “Let’s get started.”
I’m attacked by a flurry of small dragons who scrub me viciously in the tub, then rub me down in oil before flying a light chemise above me and dropping it onto my outstretched arms. A whirlwind of combs and brushes swirl around my head, rouging my cheeks and braiding my hair into a half-up, half-down crown.
Once they’re finished with their plucking and primping, they bring out the most marvelous ruby dress with golden threads running through its strapless bodice. I step into it, and they flounce the voluminous skirt out around me.
“You’ll need these,” Zalea says. She flies with a friend, pulling sleek gloves on up to my elbows before bringing me into the circle of mirrors. I do a twirl, hardly believing the sight. There’s a light in my eyes that wasn’t there two days ago, a dead fire brought back to life.
Yes, I’ll meet with the Dragon Queen for lunch, then dance the night away as if watching her choose a mate won’t cause me some inexplicable pain. I have everything I ever wished for while I was at the Academy. It would be greedy to wish for more already.
I repeat that to myself as I’m walking to the throne room, bowing my head for the two guards who open the door for me.
Matty uncrosses her legs and springs from her throne, her heels clicking over the singed remnants of the red aisle runner.
Her golden suit is an exact match for the threads in my dress.
It’s tailored perfectly, cut to her lean body.
Her cape flows back around her shoulders as she stops before me, touching the golden circlet on her head.
“You got my message,” she says. “My gods, you are perfect.”
I ignore the weakness in my knees. Someday, I won’t feel like melting into a puddle around Matty. I remind myself to think of her as the Queen.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
She fidgets with her cuffs. “You sound like you’re cross with me.”
“I’m not.” I toe my fancy slippers against the floor, watching the candlelight sparkle on their crystal embellishments. “But you showed me more tenderness in one day than I’ve experienced in years. I’ll cherish that memory for as long as I live, so please don’t tarnish it.”
Her claws fly to her chest. “Tarnish it, how?”
How can I explain that I want her to love with all of the pure-hearted romanticism she showed me? If she disregards her mate’s feelings by asking me to be her mistress, my sweet memories of her will leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “You’re good, Matty. I want you to be true.”
She jerks her head back. “I will be true.”
“Then don’t do this with me.” I ball my skirt in my fists. “Choose your mate tonight. Water your relationship. Make each other happy.”
I spin on my heel to leave, but her touch on my bare shoulder stops me from retreating. I’m not sure I like this side of me, the side that knows what she’s going to ask me and is actually considering how nice it could be.
Is it so awful to want her affection?
“Please wait, Brigid. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.
” She drops her hand and takes a step back.
“Sorry, I wanted this to be cute, but it seems I’m messing it up terribly.
Maybe I should’ve said something sooner, but I only wanted to make yesterday special for you without any pressure or anything. ”
I glance back and raise my eyebrows, urging her to speak.
“There’s no easy way to explain this, so I’ll start from the beginning. Do you know why the Royal Dragon Chest is important?”
I flinch, hoping she hasn’t changed her mind about a punishment for my intrusion. “I know it was passed down to each monarch in history, and that its contents were meant to be kept secret.”
“Yes,” she says. “The relics inside were charmed to show each new monarch a truth to help them serve the Dragon Territory.”
“I’m sorry.” I lick my lips as she steps around me to cup my face. “My coven sold the relics.”
“Don’t be sorry.” A claw slides to the soft spot below my jaw. “I opened that box and found you—my mate, my truth.”
My mate. My truth. My heart pounds along with those four syllables in the silence.
“What do you mean?”
“We were meant to be, and while I know you don’t believe in fated love matches, I want to work to show you how good we can be together.” That claw works my pulse point, stroking softly. “If you’ll allow me to court you officially.”
“But what about the ball and naming your mate?” I query.
“I’ll tell them I’m building something strong with my true love, and they’ll just have to wait,” she says. “They can’t argue with fate.”
Her hand is warm and very real when I slip mine into it. That hot touch is the only thing convincing me this isn’t all a dream.
“Then, yes, I want to be courted.” I jump up and down, not bothering to hide my enthusiasm after a lifetime of squashing down my entire personality. “I’ll be your witch for Solstice.”
“I plan to make you mine for all of them.” She lifts her hand toward the ceiling, and I let her spin me into a dance without music, waltzing me beneath the beam where the mistletoe is hanging.
A vision of soup tastings, cake breakfasts, and calm nights curled up together in her cabin flashes in the back of my mind as we kiss. It’s a bright and shining thought that has me looking forward to making memories.
I take her arm as she brings me to a table, set for a private feast. Whatever the future brings, I have a good feeling we’ll be together, merrily.