Page 1 of Courting the Dragon Prince (A Royal Arrangement #1)
Chapter One
F uck me with a boulder.
Warden Onyx Obsidian, earth elemental and heir to the throne of the Grey Mountains, clenched his teeth. His gaze fixed on Prince Luther, a dragon prince and a man Onyx despised.
And now Prince Luther is my betrothed.
“I take great pleasure in announcing the upcoming nuptials between Prince Luther Drachen of the Kingdom of Draconia and Warden Onyx Obsidian of the Kingdom of the Grey Mountains,” Grand Monk Ferdinand announced from the front of the banquet hall.
Applause broke out from over twenty long oak tables where royalty, nobles, diplomats, and dignitaries from six different kingdoms, as well as the Monks of the Way of the Dove, sat.
Prince Luther, who sat at the head table for Draconia, openly sneered at Onyx, not even trying to hide his disdain in front of everyone. Onyx suppressed the surge of annoyance that rose within him.
It was as if Prince Luther thought he was the only one miserable with their betrothal, like he was the only one being forced to marry someone he loathed.
Onyx didn’t want to marry the dragon prince. For him, it had been hatred at first sight.
The moment he’d set eyes on Prince Luther, he knew the prince was nothing but an arrogant arsehole who didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything but himself. Everything Onyx had seen since only confirmed his first opinion of the repugnant man.
But unlike Prince Luther, Onyx knew how to publicly act with some decorum in the face of adversity. He knew how to keep up appearances and put aside his personal wants for the sake of the peace treaty and for the good of his kingdom.
Prince Luther took out a hip flask, uncorked it, and drank a deep swig, all whilst scowling at Onyx.
What a dick! What a piece of worthless fucking filth!
It was like the only way Prince Luther could get through the announcement of their betrothal was if he was drunk.
Well, fuck him!
Onyx lifted his goblet of wine and took a sip, trying to calm the raging emotions boiling up inside him. At least Onyx knew how to drink without making a bloody spectacle, unlike his future husband.
“Their union will be part of the eight marriages that will contribute to sealing the peace treaty,” the grand monk said.
But Onyx kept his gaze on Prince Luther. The dragon prince took another deep swig from his flask. Onyx’s teeth ground together so hard they creaked.
How dare Prince Luther? Does he really care so little about the peace treaty?
Prince Luther might be from a royal line of dragons, but he acted like a complete and absolute cockhead.
And he will be my husband. Soon, we will be bound together in marriage.
“Prince Luther and Warden Onyx’s marriage will contribute to healing the rifts between Draconia, Botanial, the Grey Mountains, Necros, and the combined Kingdoms of Voltaria and Zephyrias,” the grand monk continued. “It will mark the ending of the war that has ravished these kingdoms for over twenty long years.” He paused. “Please, join me, Your Royal Highnesses.”
Onyx turned towards the grand monk. The grand monk smiled gently at him. Then the grand monk turned and looked at Prince Luther.
Head high, Onyx rose from the head table for the Kingdom of the Grey Mountains. He walked across the stone floor, passing several pillars.
The dragon prince rose too. He swayed slightly.
Onyx’s eyes narrowed. Is he drunk?
Anger burned hot in Onyx’s belly.
Prince Luther is fucking royalty! He should learn to fucking act like it.
But what did Onyx expect? He had heard all about his betrothed.
Although Prince Luther had fought in the war, he had a reputation for not taking responsibility seriously. It was said that he was a flirt, a man who liked to drink, dance, gamble, and fuck. A spoiled prince through and through, with no sense of duty or obligation.
And despite all the pain and death caused by the war, Prince Luther didn’t appear to be suffering from it at all.
Not like Onyx. Not like his family.
Sharp grief flared inside Onyx, mixing with the fury churning in his gut.
Prince Luther so often smiled, laughed, and carried on as if the war hadn’t touched him. Was that why Prince Luther seemed to care so little about this treaty?
It was the dragons who had started the war. The least Prince Luther could do now was act properly to ensure it ended. Clearly, the man cared about nothing but his own self-centred interests.
Prince Luther was just as selfish as his grandmother, Queen Hildegard Drachen. She’d wanted the Kingdom of Draconia to grow in strength and size. She’d invaded the kingdoms that bordered Draconia, stealing land and resources.
At first, the five neighbouring kingdoms had not retaliated against their invaders, not wanting to start a war and fight against the force of the mighty dragons. But Queen Hildegard’s greed could not be sated. She’d kept invading, moving forces further into their kingdoms, taking over more farmland and villages.
The five invaded kingdoms had had no choice. They’d developed an alliance and fought back.
It was the dragons’ fault the war had begun.
It was the dragons’ fault that all the suffering, destruction, and spilled blood had happened.
It was the dragons’ fault Onyx’s sister was dead.
And Prince Luther didn’t even care.
Even after Queen Hildegard had died, the wretched war had raged on for years. Now, finally, after over twenty years of fighting, the six kingdoms were ready to negotiate for peace.
And to end the war, Onyx would do anything. He’d marry an arrogant dragon prince, the vile queen’s grandson. A dragon certainly as selfish and monstrous as his grandmother.
Onyx’s gaze fixed on the large dragon pin Prince Luther wore on his chest. All dragon shifters wore such a trinket. But Prince Luther’s was larger than most, made of gold and enormous sparkling emeralds.
Was this part of Prince Luther’s hoard? No doubt the greedy dragon had a hoard of jewels, gold, or some unimaginable riches locked away somewhere.
Onyx took a deep breath, trying to focus on why he was here and why he was marrying Prince Luther.
The war needed to stop before more lives were lost, before more of their soil was drenched in their people’s blood, before more of their sacred temples and land were destroyed by the evil dragons.
That was why everyone had come to the assembly at the White Monastery to create a peace treaty to end this war. Eight noble dragons would marry nobility from the five kingdoms they’d been at war with.
Still, Onyx wished his uncle, Warden Flint Obsidian, had organised a different marriage for him. From the start, Onyx had known he’d have to marry dragon nobility in order to seal the peace treaty. Still, he’d have preferred anyone but Prince Luther.
Onyx stopped before the grand monk. The elderly man dressed, like all the monks, in robes of plain beige. A white dove had been sewn onto the centre of the robes. Copper chains hung around his neck, symbolising the vows he’d bound himself to when he joined the monastic order and to show his role within the monkhood.
Prince Luther halted opposite Onyx.
“Your Highnesses.” The grand monk bowed his shaved head. He held out his hands in front of him. “Please clasp hands with each other.”
The dragon prince’s lip curled as he held out his hand. Onyx gripped it. Tight. Prince Luther grimaced. A sense of satisfaction unfurled inside Onyx.
The grand monk gazed past them over the crowded banquet hall. “In approximately one month, these two individuals representing the Kingdom of the Grey Mountains and the Kingdom of Draconia will marry. They will marry here in the White Monastery, binding themselves in a sacred covenant.”
The Monks of the Way of the Dove often performed diplomatic marriages like this. They practiced an ancient form of binding magic that would make the vows unbreakable. And if one did not fulfil one’s vows, it could result in illness, madness, and even death. They’d also be creating the peace treaty between the kingdoms.
The grand monk smiled at them. “Their marriage will be one of the eight that will herald a time of happiness and prosperity amongst the six noble kingdoms. And of course we hope for a happy and prosperous marriage between these two dignified nobles.”
Prince Luther scoffed. Onyx squeezed Prince Luther’s hand, and the prince winced, glaring at Onyx before yanking his hand free.
The grand monk’s smile didn’t waver.
Onyx suppressed a sigh. He had never said the words aloud, but deep in his heart, Onyx had always hoped to marry someone he loved or, at the very least, could come to love. His parents had had an arranged marriage. But they’d fallen in love at first sight. That was what his mother had told him.
Onyx stared at his betrothed, disappointment settling heavily in his gut. After all the bloodshed and loss of the war, Onyx yearned for someone with whom his heart could rest and with whom he could find some peace.
Prince Luther continued to glare at him.
But that wasn’t to be. Not in this marriage.
Onyx couldn’t bear to stare at his betrothed a second longer. He looked out over the crowded banquet hall. His gaze fixed on one of the gold-and-white tapestries that lined the wall.
In the Grey Mountains, a marriage meant fidelity and devotion. That was what one vowed on one’s wedding day.
But Prince Luther and Onyx’s vows would be different. The marriage contract he would sign had been negotiated by the six kingdoms with the assistance of the monks. Fidelity had not been included and would not be expected. There was a pledge “to be true,” but what that meant was open to interpretation.
Still, even if the marriage contract did not explicitly state a requirement of faithfulness, Onyx would not dishonour himself by seeking relations outside their marriage. It would go against everything he had been taught was honourable.
He doubted Prince Luther would hold himself to such high standards. But that did not matter to Onyx. Even if Prince Luther would happily debase himself, Onyx would not. He would not lower himself to his betrothed’s level.
So he’d resign himself to a marriage and life devoid of love.
Because whilst Prince Luther might be beautiful, with his bright-green eyes, high cheekbones, smooth brown skin, deep-brown wavy hair, and muscular body, he was clearly a prick. Onyx would rather stick his dick in an anthill than put it anywhere near Prince Luther.
Still, they’d need to fuck. That was specifically written into their marriage contract and was required for sealing the marriage.
Tension vibrated through Onyx’s blood. He took a deep breath, trying to focus his mind, using the techniques he’d been taught over years and years. He pictured the sky over the mountain peaks, a view from the mountain temple where he’d spent many years training alongside his sister.
That mountain temple had been burnt and torn apart, reduced to nothing but rubble and ruins. His sister had died there, trying to defend it from a dragon attack.
Onyx’s throat convulsed. He lifted his gaze, staring up at the vaulted ceilings of the banquet hall. They had been painted to depict the sky on a sunny day.
He took a deep breath, wishing he were anywhere but here.
But he’d bury his disappointment. His rage. His fury. His grief and pain. He’d marry this spoiled, self-centred, vile prince.
The greed of the dragons had started the war.
Dragons had killed his sister.
But he’d marry one of them if it meant peace.
Mountain spirits guide me.