Page 1 of Bride of the Black Dragon
1
ELAINA
“Well? You heard me girl—open your robe! Let us see your assets.”
My future Mother-in-Law, Queen Virelda snaps her fingers at me—as though I am some kind of dancing bear she’s paid to amuse her. Beside her, my husband-to-be, Prince Dorian, stifles a yawn. His golden hair gleams in the rays of sun shining down from the arched window above. I wonder if he’s positioned himself there on purpose, just to achieve that effect.
If he has, I wouldn’t be surprised.
I haven’t been in the Royal Court for two days yet, and already I’m regretting that I have come. Not that I had much choice. My father sold me to the First Family, who had bought me because of our pure bloodlines.
My silver-blonde hair and triple-ringed irises (lavender, green, and a thin ring of gold around the outside if you’re interested) mark me as one who can bear sons indwelled by Drakes. And since the might of the Kingdom lies in the ability of the Royal males to shift into those huge, fire-breathing monsters, keeping the bloodline going is extremely important.
Coming to the Royal Citadel has been a rude awakening for me. I was raised in a small mountain town where my family are the only Nobles for miles around. Here in the Citadel, Nobles are everywhere, rustling in their rich robes and gowns, smelling of expensive, musky perfumes and wearing elaborate headdresses that show their rank. Most of them look down their noses at country bumpkins like me.
But none of them has my bloodlines, so I am accorded at least a small measure of respect. Except from my husband-to-be and his family, who seem to actively despise me.
“Come, girl.” Queen Virelda snaps her fingers again impatiently. “Let us see what we bought. My husband paid a ridiculous amount for you.”
“But why do you need to see me naked?” I ask, stalling for time.
I’ve just been through a very uncomfortable examination with the Court Physician—an elderly man with a long white beard and fingers like icicles. He determined that I am indeed “intact” and that no man had lain with me before—an important detail since virginity must be assured before a Drake prince can be conceived.
Of course, he knows nothing about my brief flirtation with our stable boy back home. Roderick and I did things that weren’t strictly proper, but I was careful to save my virginity. I had no wish to be beaten and cast out in the street—which was what my father had threatened should I become “impure.”
So I kept my past to myself while the old man poked around inside me, asking nosy questions and demanding to know if I was “chaste.” He has no need to know the details of my love life—fleeting as it has been.
I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally allowed me to sit up and close my robe. I had thought that the internal exam would be the worst part of the process—I had no idea that my future Mother-in-Law and my husband-to-be would ambush me as I left the Court Physician’s rooms and demand that I show them my “assets.”
“We need to see if you’re healthy,” the Queen says. “Now come—open your robe.”
“But…but it isn’t proper for my husband to see me naked before our wedding night!” I protest. I’m not especially shy, but I don’t like people I barely know seeing me in the nude.
However, Queen Virelda clearly isn’t in the mood to accept my excuses.
“Insolent girl! I will be the judge of what’s proper. Open your robe now or I’ll call a servant to tear it off you!” she snarls. “And if I have to do that, I’ll have you beaten afterwards!”
Feeling that I would rather undress myself than have someone else do it, I reluctantly untie the sash of the silk robe I am wearing and spread it open, baring myself for the both of them.
I am wincing in embarrassment as I open the robe, worried how my husband-to-be, Prince Dorian, will react. I have only ever let the stable boy see me naked and that was only briefly. He got so excited that the bulge in his trousers grew enormous and I had to fend him off…which led to the end of our brief relationship.
But my soon-to-be husband barely even glances at me. His pale blue eyes flicker over my naked body and then he yawns—as though I’m boring him—and looks away.
Queen Virelda, on the other hand, is staring at me with narrow, judgmental eyes, scanning my naked body for flaws.
“Well, you’ve certainly got child-bearing hips,” she remarks tartly, her thin upper lip curling in disgust. “And you’re definitely more on the chubby side—built like a peasant, I’d say. I’ll tell the servants to withhold your dessert until you slim down a bit.”
Wait—dessert is my favorite part of any meal! And it isn’t like I’m huge—I’m just “big-boned” at least according to my mother. I prefer to think of myself as “curvy.” I have full breasts and full hips and thick thighs but that doesn’t make me ugly—I also have fine, silky skin without a single blemish on it. And as I said before, the sight of my naked body has driven at least one man into a frenzy of lust.
But Prince Dorian is looking around as though he’d rather examine the dust motes floating in the air than look at his wife-to-be’s naked form. What a strange man! What male doesn’t want to see a nude woman? Maybe he’s used to the fine-boned, delicate courtesans who flit about the Noble class of the Citadel like colorful, overpriced butterflies. None of them is “built like a peasant” I must admit.
Queen Virelda seems to notice her son’s inattention too. She digs him in the ribs with one bony elbow.
“Dorian, look! See what you think—she’s going to be your wife!” she reminds him.
“I saw her, Mother. I have no need to look again. Once is quite enough.” His full lips form a little moue of distaste. “Are we almost finished here? Henri and I have plans for this afternoon. He’s promised to help him choose a waistcoat for the banquet tonight.”
Queen Virelda sighs, as though giving up a losing battle.
