Page 24 of A Bond of Fire and Roses

“I want to watch,” I tell him.

He looks over at Erax, who nods once before turning his attention back to his beast. The dragon works its way through each of the sisters, leaving nothing of their existence behind but the same pile of ash. Then it moves to Sister Gabriella. It lifts its head, pausing as it looks down at her, her chest burning with more fire breath. Sister Gabriella doesn’t move or try to scramble away like the others. She looks the dragon in the eye and accepts her fate with a surprising courage I can’t help but admire even though I hate her. Sister Gabriella is the only one the dragon doesn’t burn completely, choosing to eat her instead while she’s still alive and screaming in her mouth.

“Now I’m ready,” I say, turning to Noble.

As he leads me away, I glance back at the king who’s watching me with a smirk on his face. To my surprise, and perhaps a little to my horror, I feel no pity or remorse for those he just killed in my name. I feel only relieved. At least, for a moment I do.

I still have the wedding to get through.

CHAPTER NINE

From today, my life belongs to the dragon king and the kingdom he stole from me.

I barely remember Noble escorting me back to my room after the dragon keep before I got back into bed, hoping to sleep before the sun rises. I can’t think about anything else as I’m dragged out from my bed before the sun crests the horizon outside the window. The very window I’ve thought about jumping from more than once. I no longer voice my protests to any of the servants. I’m bathed by them, twice, before the maids deem me satisfactory, and then I’m shoved into a stunning gold gown. I never knew what I’d wear on my wedding day, never thought about it, and I hate to admit that this dress is gorgeous. Two pure gold dragons curl around my breasts in a bodice, meeting in the middle, and their eyes are fire red rubies. They are a shade darker gold than the rest of the dress, which is layers of silk, satin, chiffon and so much detail in each layer that I can’t help but wonder who made this. A thin layer of chiffon falls over my upper arms in three waves and each wave has a dragon crest matching the rest. It’s beautiful, but I know my mother, who should be here, would hate it. She used to spin me around in my red dresses as a little girl, telling me when I marry, my dress would be like hers on her wedding day. Red, for our kingdom, for my father’s crown.

The stylist finishes my hair, leaving most of it down in waves except for two braids that pull my locks from my face and, no doubt, are to help the crown sit comfortably on my head. Shame nothing about today will make me comfortable. Light makeup is covering my cheeks—but as I was told is their tradition—two gold dragons have been stencilled and painted underneath my eyes, just where my tears will fall. “Princess, you look beautiful. You will make a lovely queen.”

I smile tightly at the maid. She doesn’t know I hate the king and want none of this. That this may be a wedding celebrated across the kingdom, but for me, it might as well be a funeral. “Thank you.”

“Leave us!” I turn as a woman enters my room through the open door, and the maids hurry out in a rush. Whoever she is—they listen to her. The familiar woman is very pretty, with classical features, bow lips and long blonde hair that hits her waist, longer than mine. She slowly looks me up and down, even though we are the same height, disgust flashing in her eyes before she smiles like a cat. “My name is Ambre. My father, your uncle, told me to come and offer you friendship before your big day.”

There is so much sarcasm dripping from her words that I’m sure not even an idiot would believe her. Ambre, that’s why she is familiar. “I know you. Uncle Dasinth told me stories of his daughter. I wasn’t aware you lived in the castle.”

“I was invited here as a guest.” She touches one of the many necklaces spread out on my bed on a silver cloth, waiting for me to choose one. The maids said Erax had each of them made for me, one of many gifts I’m supposed to receive. I don’t want any of them. “You can have one if you like.”

She picks up a choker of a gold dragon and walks to me, her tight, short black dress brushing the tiles. “You should wear this one. Fitting, for a slave labelled a queen.”

“What do you want, Ambre?” I question, taking the choker from her hand. “You don’t like me; I can see that. I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but I’m really not in the mood to deal with you today. Uncle Dasinth was wrong to send you here. Where is he?”

Ambre turns and walks to the door. “You’re not really our family, so why would he be here today? I’m sure he has better things to do.” She stops at the door, looking back at me. It stings that he isn’t here. He might not be blood, but I’ve always seen him as family. “I came to see if you’d be any competition for me when it comes to the king. He needs you for an heir to settle the kingdom, but after? You won’t be needed, and he will find much more interesting companions to turn into his queen.”

My heart races as something burns in my chest. I can’t name the feeling that is clawing my chest up, but it’s there and it isn’t going away as I watch her. “And your conclusion?”

She sweetly laughs, meeting my eyes. There is nothing but spite in her gaze and a longing for the crown, a sight I’ve seen in a thousand faces when they look at me. “I have nothing to worry about. Congratulations, Your Majesty. May your marriage be fruitful sooner rather than later.”

Bitch. Where is a dragon to eat her?

Ambre slams the door shut behind her, and I flinch. Another enemy in this forsaken castle! I throw the stupid necklace at the wall, and it cracks in two before falling to the floor. Two maids rush into the room, both their eyes widening at the broken necklace. “If that one isn’t to your liking, may we suggest one of the other?—”

“I’m not wearing any of them.” I push past them both to stand in front of the door, where my shoes are waiting. I’m going to be queen soon and there is nothing I can control about today, but not wearing one of the necklaces that feel like chains. I can control this at least. I slide my feet into small gold heels, and I’m barely able to walk into them as I step back. Before leaving, I glance at myself in the mirror, knowing no matter how pretty I look, my father would be ashamed of me and so would my mother.

They would have rather killed me than let me marry their enemy.

But they’re not here, and I have to make a life for myself. I have to fight for myself. No one else is going to.

One more time, I allow myself to briefly drift my gaze to the open window and the peace it offers. Death or marriage? A ray of sunlight shines over my pillow, where the dagger is hidden underneath. He was kind and promised not to hurt me. I’m not sure I can trust his promise, but the dagger...the dagger I can trust. It felt different, like a lifeline being thrown to me when I was drowning.

Before I can do anything, the maids are ushering me out of my room. I have to hold up the ends of my dress, so I don’t trip on it as I am quickly taken through the heavily guarded castle, and I’m shoved into a carriage outside the castle. I barely get a second to take in my surroundings before the carriage is riding through the crowded streets, full of screaming, cheering, adoring people. Children race after the carriage throwing what looks to be gold petals. I can barely see through them to look at the actual city as they rain down the carriage windows.

It feels like only minutes before we are driving by the chapel. It’s a beautiful, old building with weathered grey stone, and stained-glass windows of gold and red. I’m surprised when we go past it and down another packed street of people that look richer by the condition of their dresses and suits.

Most of them are clapping and cheering, but a good amount of them are leering and watching the carriage move by. There are so many men watching and waiting, and I sink back in my seat away from their gazes. I remind myself that I am not wholly welcome here. My supporters might be hidden somewhere among the crowds, but it’s clear those leering at me are not them.

The carriage stops outside another chapel. This one is smaller than the other. The door is opened as I climb out. Immediately, two guards are at either side of me. They guide me down the gold walkway to the chapel, where I’m led inside to a massive prayer room. The guards remain at the door, and I glance at the two priests waiting at the back of the small room. One is as old as time, so wrinkled that I barely see how he’s still standing in his white robes. The other is a priestess, not one I know, but they all look the same to me. Stern, bitter women. They both bow when I stop in front of them. The priestess wrinkles her nose. “Are you aware of our rituals, Princess?”

I clear my throat and clamp my shaking hands together in front of me. “No.”

I don’t bother adding her title. I’m so sick of seeing priests and priestesses.

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