Page 18 of Courting the Dragon Prince (A Royal Arrangement #1)

Chapter Eighteen

O nyx wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever fought anything so disgusting in my life.”

“That smell is seared into my nostrils.” Luther laughed. “I’ll never forget it.”

They walked along the dirt path through the wheat fields, heading in the direction of the village. The sun had set recently. An orangey-pink glow lit the sky just above the horizon.

It had been a long day. But they’d completed their couple’s quest.

“And I have to say you were pretty impressive. Just pounding them with rocks, one after another.” Luther mimed throwing rocks.

“You didn’t do too badly either,” Onyx said.

After all, Luther hadn’t panicked. Onyx knew many who would when faced with a surprise attack. But Luther had kept his head on straight. He’d done a lot better than Onyx would have expected of the prince.

“And you came up with the idea that got us out of there alive,” Onyx said.

Luther waved his hand, dismissing the compliment.

“You also threw that torch at the snail, saving my arse from snail spit,” Onyx acknowledged.

“That was just reflex.” Luther paused and smiled. “But you’re right. It was pretty impressive. Although, I did not like having to run through the tunnel in the pitch black.”

“At least there weren’t any turns. Just the one way in and out.” Though, since Onyx could connect to the stone, he could have navigated in and out in the dark even if there had been tunnels.

Onyx glanced at Luther. Surprised that they were actually getting along.

But fighting and almost dying together could make you forget that you hated a person. It could even make you see that person in a whole new light.

Luther’s clothes hung askew, covered in mud and grime. Dirt streaked his cheeks. No doubt Onyx looked similarly dishevelled and worse for wear. Luther limped along, having lost one of his boots to the snails. But he didn’t complain.

Maybe Luther wasn’t quite as bad as Onyx had originally thought. Or at least he had a few redeeming qualities.

One of the things that had bothered Onyx from the start was that Luther had always seemed so ready to smile. It felt like nothing hurt Luther, like the war hadn’t scarred him when it had the rest of them. He resented that Luther could smile and laugh so easily after all that pain, death, and destruction.

But perhaps Onyx had been too hasty in his judgement of Luther.

He stared ahead as they walked, wondering if they could find a way to get along, at least some of the time. If they just focused on developing a working relationship, that might be enough.

Onyx might have hoped for a love match once upon a time. But that was a foolish dream.

Right now, he’d settle for not hating each other. Perhaps he just needed to focus on developing a functioning, amicable relationship with no strong feelings, no love, no hate, and definitely no more sex. That would complicate things for sure. They just needed a pleasant, working relationship.

They walked in silence for several minutes.

Onyx frowned at the golden fields of wheat ahead of him. “Something has been bothering me.”

“And that is?” Luther glanced at him.

“We almost died today,” Onyx said. “We were sent to face a deadly foe without being at all prepared. We didn’t have any weapons. We couldn’t use our powers. I mean, what if we’d entered the chamber and the snails attacked us before we could reach the key?”

Luther’s brows furrowed. “Well, it was meant to be a quest. It was meant to test our abilities. And we are fighters.”

“But what if we’d died? That would have caused problems for the peace treaty. I assumed the quest would be challenging but not life-threatening. It seems bizarre to risk everything, our lives and the treaty, for some symbolic quest.” Onyx shook his head. “My uncle was involved in organising this event. I can’t imagine him being so careless.”

Luther stared at the ground as he continued to limp forward. “I’m pretty sure my brother and sister were also involved.” He reached out and grabbed a wheat stalk, tugging it free. He waved it back and forward. “Maybe they didn’t realise how dangerous the snails were.”

“Maybe.” Onyx stared ahead at the slowly darkening sky.

“We could ask when we get back to the monastery,” Luther said.

Onyx nodded.

They reached the small village, which was just a cluster of modest wooden houses, as the last of the light disappeared from the sky. They made their way to the only inn.

Soon they sat on stools by the bar, being served ale by the innkeeper, Mistress Fisher. Village folk sat at tables around them. Word had spread quickly about the two lords who’d rid them of their snail problem. It seemed every villager had descended on the inn to find out more.

“Did you hear, Magnus? These two defeated the snails!” Mistress Fisher called out over the chatter in the inn to an old farmer as he entered. She smiled widely, revealing several missing teeth.

Magnus looked between Luther and Onyx. “Did you really defeat the snails?”

“We did indeed.” Luther smiled. “The White Monastery sent us to rid you of your snail infestation, and we have done so. I burned them.” He pointed to Onyx. “He crushed them with rocks.”

Onyx chuckled and gulped his ale.

“And this fine lord”—another farmer pointed at Luther—“he says the drinks are on him tonight.”

Neither he nor Luther had corrected the assumption that they were merely lords. No need to cause more fuss.

“You rid us of the snails and you pay for our drinks!” Magnus’s eyes widened. “May peace soar within you!”

An older woman clutched Luther’s wrist. “So many of our people have been afraid to work in the fields near the snail cave. We’d worried we’d need to abandon all that wheat and let it rot where it stood.”

Murmurs of agreement followed her statement.

“We’re glad we could be of service.” Onyx inclined his head.

“And how many giant snails did you say you faced?” A young boy leaned forward.

Luther took a deep breath. “When we entered the cave, creeping along the dark tunnel, we had no idea any snails were present at all,” Luther once again began the tale.

He’d told it several times now. Every time someone entered the inn, they were keen to hear the story. And those who’d been in the inn for a while appeared eager to hear the tale again and again and again.

Luther improved with each retelling, getting more animated and adding extra details and flare. In another life, Luther might have made a good bard.

If Onyx had been on his own, he’d have arrived at the inn, told them about the snails’ defeat, and either bought or rented a horse to get back to the White Monastery. He’d not have bothered to stick around and talk to the villagers.

Onyx gazed at the crowd. He was glad they had.

The villagers were amazed at the fact that Luther was a dragon and Onyx was an earth elemental. Although, they seemed more interested in the whole dragon thing. Dragons seemed to impress people more than earth elementals.

Onyx didn’t mind. He didn’t particularly like being the centre of attention. So Onyx sat on his stool, drinking his ale and listening to Luther once again weave the narrative of their victory over the disgusting snails.

Honestly, it impressed him how well Luther seemed to get along with these villagers with whom he had so little in common.

Once again, Onyx found himself reassessing his belief that Luther was just a selfish, greedy, and egoistic prince.

They spent the next couple of hours drinking in the inn. Over time, the villagers’ attention turned away from them.

Mistress Fisher brought them bowls of a hearty fish stew, thick slices of a dark bread, and freshly churned butter. They gobbled it down, having worked up quite an appetite.

“We’re glad the monks sent you,” Mistress Fisher said. “The warrior monks are nice enough. But all rather dull.” She laughed. “They wouldn’t join us for a drink and a yarn.”

Onyx swallowed. “But the monks usually deal with any issues you have?”

“It’s part of being a half-brethren.” She nodded. “They always look out for us.”

“What does that mean, being a half-brethren?” Luther asked.

“Well, we take vows,” she said. “Nothing like the monks do, of course. But we pledge to always work towards peace. We sign in some book with ink mixed with a tiny drop of our blood. Then we become half-brethren.

“Then we live on the island, pay taxes, obey their rules, and they provide us with protection and assistance when we need it.” Mistress Fisher refilled their mugs. “All in all, it’s a pretty good deal. It’s peaceful here on the island.” She laughed. “It’d be upsetting if it wasn’t peaceful, considering the monks are always going on about peace.

“Every now and then, a monk will come and give a speech on it here in the village.” She lowered her voice. “It’s pretty boring, actually. And long. But if that’s the price of not being overrun by bandits, I’ll take it.” Mistress Fisher chuckled and went off to serve the other customers.

A woman pulled out an old hurdy-gurdy. She held the instrument in her arms and began to turn the crank with one hand whilst pressing the keys with the other. A rich, lilting melody filled the inn, mixing with the talking and laughter of the villagers. Several rose to dance.

Luther stared at the woman on the hurdy-gurdy, nodding in time with the music.

Onyx watched him. “I’m surprised. You seem well at ease here, considering you’re a prince.”