Page 2 of Courting the Dragon Prince (A Royal Arrangement #1)

Chapter Two

P rince Luther was doing everything in his power to stop himself from vomiting on the floor of the banquet hall.

His stomach roiled and convulsed, the contents of his gut sloshing around. He could almost believe his upset stomach was the result of being betrothed to someone who so clearly hated him.

But the truth was Luther had gotten shit-faced drunk. Of course, that was still Warden Onyx Obsidian’s fault.

Since the war, Luther had developed a deep appreciation for wine, ale, beer, mead, whisky, schnapps, brandy, and any drink that dulled the senses, pain, and memories. But there was something about being betrothed to someone who so clearly detested you that really made you want to drink until you finished the entire bottle. And then pick up the next one.

“We, the Monks of the Way of the Dove, have vowed to dedicate our lives to peace. As such, we are pleased to play a role in hosting this assembly and performing this marriage between two honourable men of such esteemed families.” The grand monk’s milky grey eyes gleamed with pride.

“We are truly humbled to assist in any way we can in the creation of this peace treaty between such mighty and noble nations.” The grand monk smiled.

Luther tried to follow the monk’s words. But they swam before him, muddling together.

Why did the grand monk always prattle on so much? Why couldn’t he just keep it short and snappy? Then Luther could slink away and empty his stomach in some dark corner before he curled up into a ball and succumbed to his never-ending misery.

He stared into the intimidating eyes of Warden Onyx. Warden was the title used in the Grey Mountains for princes or princesses. Word had it that Warden Onyx was a powerful earth elemental. He could hurl rocks, boulders, and stones through the air.

No doubt he can also bury people alive beneath them.

Luther’s fingers spasmed.

Warden Onyx was also clearly an uptight jerk with a massive stick up his arse.

Or, more likely, a massive rock.

A snicker escaped Luther.

Warden Onyx’s strong brows drew lower.

Why was Warden Onyx’s face fuzzy? Why was everything moving around so much?

Am I swaying? Fuck! I really am drunk.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

I just have to get through this announcement. Then I can find a quiet place to vomit away from everyone. Then Father won’t be angry. Then I won’t have let my king, my family, and my kingdom down.

Ever since they’d met, Warden Onyx’s disdain for Luther had been so abundantly clear.

Luther wasn’t sure what he’d done to piss the earth elemental off. Sure, they’d been literal enemies, their kingdoms at war with each other. Perhaps they’d even fought each other on the battlefield. But they were here to make peace!

Since he’d arrived at the assembly at the White Monastery, Luther had pulled himself together as best he could. He’d turned on his dazzling personality and been as delightful as he could be. And whilst that seemed to have worked with many from the other enemy kingdoms, Warden Onyx was apparently immune to his appeal. He appeared almost angry when Luther tried to be charming.

It’s almost like he sees straight through all the bullshit to my true self.

As a result, Luther had done his best to avoid the earth elemental.

Then, a few days ago, his father had told him that he’d marry Warden Onyx. Luther opened his eyes and stared at Warden Onyx’s sturdy black boots. Bile stung his throat.

Since then, he’d been getting sloshed, or more sloshed than usual. Usually, he could keep it together at public events. But not the past few days.

And definitely not tonight.

Fuck. I should have stopped drinking earlier.

A buzzing rang in his ears as the grand monk jabbered on. “Their union will mark the second marriage that will seal the peace treaty. Peace for all is?—”

Luther tuned out the grand monk as he tried to quell his turbulent gut. He pressed his lips tightly together. He should not have eaten that mutton stew. Or the two thick slices of meat pie. Both had been far too greasy and did not mix well with the brandy and wine and whatever the fuck else he’d drunk earlier.

Maybe I should hurl on Warden Onyx.

Luther chuckled at the thought.

Warden Onyx’s frown deepened.

What was wrong with Warden Onyx’s face, anyway? Did he always look so severe? So stern? So serious?

The man needed a good fucking.

And since I’m marrying him, I’ll have to be the one to do that.

Under other circumstances, Luther might not mind.

Warden Onyx stood taller and broader than Luther, and Luther himself was rather tall and broad. His betrothed’s strong features might be considered attractive, if he didn’t glare so much. The deep pools of his eyes, so dark, almost like the colour of onyx itself, were something a lover could definitely lose themselves in.

And those big, strong hands. He remembered Warden Onyx’s grip. Those hands would be perfect for holding a lover in place whilst he fucked him hard, deep, and fast.

But no doubt Warden Onyx is terrible in bed. Probably just sticks his dick in and thrusts. No skill. No finesse. No doubt he’ll be cold and unyielding.

It will be just like fucking a rock!

A laugh, which he tried and failed to smother, escaped Luther. Warden Onyx let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing.

Applause broke out, and Luther looked around. The grand monk had stopped talking.

Fucking finally!

Luther turned to make his escape, but the monk spoke first. “Congratulations to you both.” The grand monk inclined his head. “You are truly an example to all.”

Suddenly an endless sea of rulers, princes, princesses, wardens, shadow lords and ladies, monks, diplomats, and dignitaries descended on them.

Luther fused his lips together. He could taste the vomit rising into the back of his mouth. He glanced around, swaying back and forth, looking for an escape. The room spun.

I need to get out of here. Now!

He took a step, and a large hand gripped his arm. Luther stared into the piercing dark eyes of Warden Onyx.

His betrothed lowered his head and muttered, “At least hold yourself together for a couple more minutes.” The warmth of his breath brushed Luther’s ear. “For the sake of the peace treaty!”

“Fuck you, you boulder-brained gravel licker,” Luther whispered.

The earth elemental’s nostrils flared. “This is important. This treaty is important. The war needs to end. How do you not understand that? How can you be so drunk at such a vital moment? How can you be such a self-centred embarrassment?”

Furious, Luther tried to tug his arm away. But Warden Onyx tightened his grip.

Luther bared his teeth. How dare this man treat him like this?

Luther was a dragon! A prince of Draconia! Maybe he should shift and burn him with dragonfire.

Then Luther’s father and stepmother approached. With all his strength, Luther tried to stand up straight. He did not wish to look a fool in front of his father. Warden Onyx released his grip on Luther’s arm.

“The announcement went smoothly enough,” King Alaric said before fixing his gaze on Luther, giving him a once-over.

“Yes. It went very well.” The queen consort smiled. “I’m sure you both will be very happy together.”

Luther almost laughed. But he didn’t dare under his father’s sharp gaze.

“Thank you, Your Majesties.” Warden Onyx bowed.

Luther inclined his head. He kept his mouth shut, desperate to stop himself from vomiting. His father would definitely not tolerate that.

With all his strength, Luther kept himself together as more people approached and congratulated them. He fought against the nausea, not wanting to prove Warden Onyx correct, that Luther was just a self-centred embarrassment.

But isn’t that exactly what you are?

An older man smiled at Luther. “I’m sure with you by my nephew’s side, he will make a wonderful grand warden one day,” the man who must be Warden Onyx’s uncle said. “And I have no doubt you will be an excellent consort.”

Luther blinked as the man’s words hit him.

Fuck!

Warden Onyx would one day be grand warden, ruler of the Grey Mountains. And if Luther was married to him, that would make him his consort. Of course, he should have realised that before now. But to be honest, he’d just been mourning being married to such an uptight arsehole who always stared at him with open hatred.

Luther couldn’t handle the responsibility of being a ruler’s consort! He could barely get through a single day and hold it together.

Then another realisation hit him. He’d have to move to the Grey Mountains, away from his family and home and into enemy territory where people would despise him, just like Warden Onyx.

Luther couldn’t breathe. The weight of the future bore down on him. His stomach rebelled.

Not caring, he turned away. He stumbled through the crowds, giving poor attempts at smiling. He covered his mouth, desperate not to barf on the floor.

Getting free of the people, he practically ran to the terrace door. A guard opened it. He rushed out. The brisk night air slapped Luther in the face, and he tripped. He righted himself and raced to the railing. He threw himself over it, stomach heaving as he emptied it into the garden below.

Slow, even footsteps echoed on the stone terrace.

Body shaking, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Luther turned to face the glowering expression belonging to Warden Onyx Obsidian.

They stared at each other. Luther sucked in air. His throat burned with vomit and shame.

He expected a derisive comment, something mocking and sharp. Luther tilted his chin up.

But the earth elemental just pressed his lips together, gaze dripping with revulsion before he turned and walked silently away. As if Luther wasn’t even worth insulting.

Luther slumped. He slid down onto the cold stone. He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. His stomach no longer revolted, but his head swam.

Well, Warden Onyx wasn’t the only one disgusted with Luther.

“We have that in common at least,” Luther muttered.

And married couples needed things in common, didn’t they? Maybe Warden Onyx and Luther could build their marriage on their mutual hatred and disgust of Luther.

He clothed his head in his hands as he let out a shuddering breath. He squeezed his eyes shut.

It was hard to believe there was a time when Luther hadn’t been like this.

Once upon a time, he’d been fun, charming, the life of the party. And not in a way where he’d end up spilling his guts in a garden. He’d made friends easily. He’d cared for others, and they’d cared for him. He’d been happy and cheerful.

Then he’d fought in the war. And everything had changed.

Luther had thought he could move on after. He’d tried everything to forget and escape what had happened. But it was like the memories had become his very own shadow, following him into every moment of every second of every day of his life.

Even at this assembly, dedicated to forming the peace treaty, he couldn’t leave the war behind. Luther wanted to be better, for his kingdom, for his family, for his people, for peace. He just wanted to do better. But he couldn’t seem to hold himself together no matter how he tried.

Now he felt like he was just pretending to be the person he’d used to be. And his betrothed seemed to see straight through that pretence to the broken mess Luther was.

Luther knew no peace. But then again, he didn’t deserve any.

Perhaps this was exactly what he deserved: a husband who despised him. A husband who saw him for the worthless piece of shit he was.

“And one day, I’ll be his consort.” Prince Luther laughed silently as he stared up at the stars.

When he’d joined the war, he’d done so with dreams of proving his worth, of making his family proud, of doing his duty for his kingdom.

He’d tried. He really had. But he’d failed.

And now he had to live with that failure.