Page 5

Anneke’s eyes narrowed, and she scanned the edge of the moor. “How about collecting some flowers for the ceremony before we head back? All of your favorites are in season. The sun this morning has really helped them bloom.”

Wren nodded eagerly; she was not quite ready to head back. “I can definitely agree to that.” A shadow swooped over them. She held a hand over her eyes and turned her face up to the sky just as a telltale silhouette crossed the sun, becoming larger and larger above them as the dragon descended, stirring up grass, leaves, and flowers.

“And…it seems Aurora can, too,” her mum commented.

Aurora was small and slight by dragon standards, though that did not mean she was not still giant. When she landed amid the flowers, the ground bumped heavily beneath Wren’s feet, and she and her mother held on to each other to keep their balance until the earth was settled once more. Wren’s dragon was resplendent, surrounded by the early summer flowers, her shimmering scales pale like the pearls that grew in the water she had been born in. They glowed in the sunshine. It was those very scales which made Aurora almost impossible to spot, both in the sea and the sky, which was deadly in tandem with the dragon’s speed. No dragon who lived in and around the isles had so far been able to match her.

“You took your time,” Wren chastised her dragon, closing the distance between them. She ran her hands over Aurora’s muzzle and pressed her cheek to the slick scales. The dragon huffed out a breath in return, which ruffled Wren’s hair. “Have you come to help us collect flowers?”

Aurora let out a series of whistles and clicks, which sounded odd outside of the water but were melodic and haunting beneath the waves. Wren had learned the language when she was young; almost everyone within the Dragon Isles learned it then. For what was a kingdom that coexisted with dragons if they could not speak to them?

The dragon stretched out and closed her reptilian eyes.

So that was how it was going to be.

“Fine, you big lizard. Just lie there in the sun.”

Wren patted her dragon and joined her mother in collecting as many lilac, white, and blue flowers as possible. Together, they gathered: common chickweed, for they were delicate flowers with numerous leaves to bulk out the bouquets; giant knotweed, to add height; lousewort, white waterlilies, and heath-spotted orchids for their beautiful flowers; burnet roses to go around the edges; and lastly, violet pansies, some of them containing random yellow petals which acted as a startling and eye-catching counterbalance against the purple and white all around them.

Wren and Anneke sat beside Aurora to string them together to create garlands and flower crowns before Wren looped the leather rope around the assemblies and secured them to her dragon.

Anneke placed a delicate flower crown on Wren’s head. “Daughter, the flowers look lovely in your hair. I can’t wait for your husband-to-be to see you once you’re all dressed up! But your papa will cry when he sees you.”

“No more crying!” Wren exclaimed.

“I promisedIwouldn’t cry, but I said nothing of your father.” A pause. “Are you ready?”

Wren fed a handful of daisies to her dragon when Aurora nudged her shoulder. “My stomach is fluttering like these flowers in the wind.”

Her mum kissed each of her cheeks. “Nerves are good. They tell you that this is something you care about. That you want to get it right.” She grinned at Wren. “Come on, dearest. We can’t let the eldest Princess of Lorne be late for her own wedding. Your father would never let me hear the end of it.”

2

Wren

The heat from the fire warmed Wren’s skin. She stared at the dancing flames as Ethel, her handmaiden, brushed her tangled red curls. It almost seemed surreal that the wedding was today. From the moment she’d met Rowen at the tender age of fifteen, she’d known he was special. At first, he’d been a show-off who made her nerves grate together, but the more time she’d spent with him, the more she’d liked him. Wren wasn’t really sure when she’d decided that she loved him, but one day it was just there, and it felt right. True, at nineteen, it was perhaps a little young to commit to such a binding promise of marriage, but it felt like she’d loved Rowen forever, and there was no sense in putting off her future with the man she adored, customs be damned.

She winced as Ethel pulled on her hair.

“Sorry, my lady,” the handmaiden said.

Wren waved a hand through the air. Such was the life with hair as wild as hers. She paused and stared at her left naked wrist. Today, she’d receive her marriage mark. Excitement bubbled in her gut at the thought of Rowen’s crest tattooed on the inside of her wrist. A feeling of smugness followed as she thought about her crest marking his skin. From today on, they would be bound, and nothing could tear them apart.

“If I may say so,” Ethel said softly, “you’re a lucky woman to marry the likes of the captain.”

“Indeed, I am.” Wren toyed with her robe.

Even though Rowen was older by four years, he’d waited for her. If it had been up to only her, she would have wed him two years prior. But the stubborn man wanted her to have more time to know herself. He could be so obstinate sometimes. Many would never see that side of him. For the most part, he was good-natured and goofy. Rowen was now first mate to the captain of the navy. But even that responsibility wasn’t enough to make him more serious…at least on the surface. For Wren knew he deeply and seriously loved her and their country and would do anything to protect them both.

Her betrothed had a wicked sense of humor and an ability to swim with the dragons that Wren—and almost everybody else—had always been jealous of. She still hadn’t been able to beat him at a race, and it ate at her. She grinned. But she could hold her breath longer than him, so she didn’t feel too terrible.

“But he is even luckier because youchosehim.”

Wren reached back and patted Ethel’s hand in affection. Her maid was one of her most precious friends. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. It’s the truth.” Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Ethel paused in her brushing. “It’s a good thing you got back to the castle before the rain started again, my lady. We’d never have dried you off in time for the ceremony!”

Wren laughed. “Let the rain come. I would marry outside in the storm if I had to,” she declared. A bit of water or dirt never hurt anyone. She meant it. Rowen wouldn’t care if she walked down the aisle dripping from head to toe, looking like she had decided on an impromptu swim with Aurora. He always accepted her ever-changing moods with humor and grace.