CHAPTER 3
In the end, it was my mother who brought the calm back to my mind. It would always be her. I couldn’t tell if it was her voice in my head or the other’s, but when she spoke, the words rang with truth.
“Do not linger on what might have been. Your path forward is clear. You will save us all, my darling, for this has always been your destiny.”
—Recounting from the private diary of Jerris, Dragonbound
SERAE
Midsummer, Valmon 1036
“Sit.” My father’s voice held its usual sharpness, befitting a man of little patience. As the lord of a border province, I suppose it made sense. I crossed the library and took my usual seat at the round table. My legs were steady today, but my mind wavered from lack of sleep.
He placed paper and a quill before me. Across the page were gibberish lines and strokes that, at first glance, resembled Inraen script, but the closer I looked, the more nonsense it became.
“It’s a phonetic cypher—the code you’ll be using to send information back.” He placed a second page beside the first. This one contained plain Inraen script.
“The translation,” I clarified.
He nodded. A stack of fresh parchment and a full bottle of ink lay beside me on the table. “Do not get up until these pages are full.”
“What should I write?” I asked.
“Anything you want. Fill them with your nonsense stories of dragons. Write letters to your friends. I don’t care. Just make sure this cypher is in your blood before you leave this table.”
“In one day?” I gasped before I could catch my tongue.
He stepped closer and leaned over my chair, taking up the entire space above me.
I suppressed a shiver. “This is your task today. Tomorrow, you will have another, harder task.” His breath held the sour tang of wine, unusual for him at this time of day.
He must have more nerves about this plan than he let on.
The thought brought me a new dose of dread.
How would I survive in a country more interested in destruction than life?
“Yes, Father,” I whispered. My voice quavered only a little.
His face relaxed. “You’ve been chosen for this task because, for reasons known only by the Creator, he bestowed on you the mind of a man.
I’ll not waste that gift by marrying you off to some nobody—not until I get my due.
Mark my words, girl. Do this, or I’ll find the richest lord desperate for a young wife to sire his heirs and be done with you. ”
I swallowed. Visions of last year’s court ball swam before me—of lecherous Lord Penderson tracing his ancient hands down my backside.
He was an early widower with only one son.
Grief gripped my throat, and my vision blurred with tears as I placed my quill to the page.
The younger Lord Penderson had been in Bale’s regiment and, if the gossip Merria heard was true, had also been lost. The paths before me were turning increasingly grim, but as a woman, what choice did I have but to traverse them?
THE STAR jasmine archway over my favorite garden bench was in full bloom.
I sat in the summer sun with my eyes closed.
My wrist ached, and I rubbed it idly while soaking in the day’s warmth.
My hand had morphed into a permanent claw from writing for three days straight, but today—my last day—I’d been given a break.
I’d spent the morning proving my memory of everything I was meant to observe and report—along with all details of the code. With that done, my afternoon was free.
“I thought I’d find you here.” I heard the smile in Tam’s voice without opening my eyes. “Budge over.”
I shifted for him, and he sat, pulling my hand into his lap to massage my abused fingers, palm, and wrist. I hummed with appreciation as his skilled hands went to work.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
My eyes opened, and I took in his navy-blue tunic and soft brown curls. His smile was strained, and there was pain in his warm brown eyes. “A loaded question.”
He nodded. “Are you ready?”
I sighed. “No. How could I ever be?”
His fingers dug into the bones of my wrist, and a delicious pop relieved some of its tension. He traced his palm down mine and laced our fingers together.
“It’s going to be okay.”
I nudged him with my knee. “Don’t lie to me.”
He shook his head and turned toward me. “It is. I know it. You’re brilliant, and you’ll find everything we need. You’ll come back with honors from the king and queen, and then our life can begin.”
Our life. Martyrs, I loved Tam. I truly did, but the thought of a life with him terrified me almost as much as being sent to Rihtlond.
I wasn’t ready to take on the role of a wife.
I was lucky, I knew, to be unwed in my twenties.
Not many nobles could afford to keep one daughter at home for so long, let alone two.
As harsh as he could be, it was a mark of my father’s love that he had done this for Merria and me.
“Hey,” Tam said, tracing a thumb down my cheek, stealing away my thoughts. “Come on, don’t let it get to you like this. You can do this. If anyone can, it’s you. This is just a blip in your life. A grand adventure, like the dragon tales you love to read.”
I smiled. “An adventure—I like that.”
He leaned in and kissed me. It was soft and sweet.
His lips were feather-light on mine, giving me his support without staking any claim.
I unlaced our fingers so I could instead throw my arms around his neck and pull him in closer.
He deepened our kiss, sliding his tongue in slow strokes against mine.
“Serae,” he whispered my name like a prayer to the Creator, “can I have you? One more time, please?”
“Yes,” I breathed and recaptured his lips. We were no strangers to stolen moments. With our houses constantly full of families and servants, we’d learned to seize our chances. I smiled against his kiss at the thought of having him here, under the jasmine.
Tam sank to his knees in the soft dirt. He hiked up my skirt and spread my legs apart, settling his body in between.
His fingers found their way to my tenderest flesh and began to tease.
Pleasure awakened within me. I scooted toward the edge of the bench and spread my knees farther apart, encouraging him.
As one of his talented fingers slipped inside me, I reached between us and palmed his length through his trousers.
Hard and eager, he thrust against my hand.
I gripped his girth with one hand while the other worked the laces at his waist free.
By the time I got them undone, two of his fingers were pumping in and out of me.
We were both panting as I gripped his freed cock and stroked him root to tip.
“I can’t wait,” he whispered against my lips. “You’re so flaming wet.”
I guided him toward my entrance, and he sank into my warmth in one torturously slow thrust.
“More,” I demanded. He pulled back and then pressed into me again. His pace was slow, but my need was rising. “Please,” I begged, gripping him from behind and urging him deeper.
He held back for three more agonizing strokes before finally giving me what I needed.
His pace quickened, and each thrust strengthened.
That coil inside me was tightening, building, but I needed more.
I gripped the hand at my waist and moved it to my center.
His fingers—Martyrs, I loved his fingers—danced over my clit.
My release rolled through me in waves. As my walls clenched around him, he groaned and thrust harder, chasing his own release before pulling out last second to spill on the earth beneath the bench.
“Fires above, Serae, you ruin me.” Tam’s voice was husky as he held my molten body against his. He kissed my neck and the shell of my ear, but his words had dragged me from such a beautiful high into a downward spiral.
“Creator above, what if they do ruin me?” I whispered, shaking in his arms.
“No.” He gripped me tighter. “Nothing they could do would ever ruin you. Do you hear me? No matter what happens, you’ll never be ruined to me.”
“Do you promise?” I couldn’t help the question. It was completely unfair, but I blurted it out anyway.
“Yes.” There was no hesitation. This was what I loved most about him. His friendship and loyalty were everything to me. Even if it were just for a few months, it was what I would miss the most when I was gone.
GERTA FLEW around the room, packing with shocking efficiency.
She said nothing, probably because she knew nothing would help.
I watched her in numb silence, head full of cyphers and fear.
She wore a thick traveling cote beneath her apron—long and stiff, unlike her usual short, lightweight servant’s dress.
It was only when my own traveling clothes were laid out that it hit me all at once.
Tears flooded my eyes and dripped on the inside of my lenses, blurring my vision further.
I hated crying. Never in my life had I been one to dissolve into tears, yet in the past few days, I had hardly stopped.
“Why is this happening to me? Why me and not Merria?”
“There, there, milady,” Gerta tutted, fussing with her mousy brown bun. “It’s not all bad. He may be a handsome lad, and you’ll find something more than this arrangement between you.”
Yes, a lovely barbarian ready for stimulating conversation and a deep emotional bond. I held in my scoff. “He’s a Rihtlonder. Martyrs, I’ll be lucky if I keep all my limbs.”
“He’s a prince, isn’t he? That’s got to count for something. You’ll be a proper princess once you’re married.”
“Lovely. Princess of the heathens. What a treasure!”
My lady’s maid, who had been with me as long as I could remember, sat beside me and patted my cheek. “We’re invited in for an alliance, not as enemies. Even the most brutal people are kind to their own. And I’ll be with you as long as I can be.”