Page 6 of Courting the Dragon Prince (A Royal Arrangement #1)

Chapter Six

T he shimex mushroom dust was definitely a mistake.

The previous night had been the first time Luther had tried it. It would be the last. He’d wanted something to help him relax. Not hallucinate.

Luther’s whole body ached. His head throbbed. He’d gotten lost in the city and stumbled and tripped around until he collapsed in a doorway. There he’d been stuck in a waking nightmare until his head cleared enough for him to make his way back to the upper monastery.

His father had frowned at Luther when he returned. He’d informed Luther they needed to attend a meeting to discuss the details of his wedding. His father had looked thoroughly unimpressed by Luther. But what was new?

Luther had only just had time to get washed and changed.

“I don’t know what’s come over you,” his father snapped as they left the rooms provided for the Draconian royal family. “You’ve been such a mess since I told you that you’d be marrying Warden Onyx.”

Luther didn’t disagree. Although, truthfully, he’d been a mess long before that. He’d just hidden it better.

“Why can’t you be more like your older sibling?” His father glared at him.

It was on the tip of Luther’s tongue to ask which one. But he was pretty certain his father would prefer he behave like any of his four older siblings. All of them were the very model of responsibility.

In the meeting, Luther tried to sit up straighter. He tried to appear more alert and like he was listening to the grand monk. He tried to be what his father wanted him to be. But Luther doubted he looked anything other than the wretch he felt like.

“I believe I have covered the courtship rituals, which will help you become better acquainted with each other.” The grand monk steepled his thin, veined hands. “And I’ve explained what you can expect from the wedding ceremony.” He sat at the head of a long wooden table.

Royals, nobles, and dignitaries from the different kingdoms sat on either side of the table, along with several monks. Since it was Luther’s wedding, he got to sit near the top of the table, right next to the grand monk. Opposite him, on the other side of the long table, sat Warden Onyx.

When Luther had entered, Warden Onyx had given him a quick once-over, lip curling before he turned away. He didn’t even acknowledge Luther.

Luther flushed. He knew he looked terrible. The servant’s attention couldn’t fix the bags under Luther’s eyes or the redness. And not even the best clothes could make him look presentable when he struggled to sit up straight.

Warden Onyx kept his gaze on the grand monk throughout the meeting, hanging off his words.

“Are there any concerns or questions regarding the courtship rituals or marriage?” The grand monk gazed around.

Does Warden Onyx ever smile?

Although Luther had to admit that even when Warden Onyx was glowering, his face held a lot of appeal. Deep, furrowed brows over dark eyes combined with a strong nose, firm, full lips, and a chiselled jaw had surely made several princes, princesses, lords, ladies, and wardens swoon.

Those broad shoulders must be wonderful to grip onto in the throes of passion. Luther imagined that beneath the man’s rather dull-looking cloak were all kinds of delicious muscles.

And what would his cock be like? Big? Thick?

Luther shifted in his chair as his dick perked up.

What was Luther doing ogling the man? He despised him.

He suppressed a sigh. This was what happened when you got no sleep and had been befuddled by shimex mushroom dust. Luther’s brain had completely forgotten that he couldn’t stand the sight of Warden Onyx.

Then again, they were getting married. And consummating the marriage was required in order to seal it. Maybe Luther should try to get something good out of this marriage. Everything else would be shit. An orgasm or two might make it mildly less so.

“I would suggest that certain preparations be made for the ceremony.” Warden Flint, who was Warden Onyx’s uncle, sat beside his nephew.

But where was Warden Onyx’s mother, the grand warden of the Grey Mountains? She was in attendance at this assembly. Luther was pretty sure of that. Shouldn’t she be the one arranging her son’s marriage?

Come to think of it, he had a vague feeling he’d heard his father talking about the grand warden with Luther’s siblings. But he couldn’t remember what he’d said about her.

“Considering the attack that took place at the last wedding, it would be wise to be ready should something similar occur.” Warden Flint looked along the table.

Several nodded in agreement.

“I think that would be a good idea. We do not want a repeat of the events that took place at my son’s wedding,” Queen Azalea of Botanial said, referring to the marriage between Prince Ash Rosewood and Lord Barrett Morton.

Luther had actually fought alongside Lord Barrett during the war. He was a decent fellow, and they’d always gotten along. Barrett was also Luther’s half-brother, one of his father’s illegitimate children.

Luther and several others had competed against Barrett for Prince Ash’s hand in marriage at the beginning of the assembly. If Luther had won, he would have been married to Prince Ash and wouldn’t be engaged to Warden Onyx now.

Still, Luther was happy for Barrett. He seemed besotted with Prince Ash.

“A very prudent measure, Warden Flint,” the grand monk said. Then he gestured to Luther’s father. “King Alaric raised a similar idea with me earlier. He suggested several guards be placed outside the ceremony chamber at all the doors leading in.

“And I have spoken with the grand shield about this.” The grand monk indicated down the table to where several monks sat. Unlike the other monks, the grand shield wore armour with a beige surcoat over it. A dove had been sewn onto the fabric of the surcoat. The grand shield was the head of the warrior monks.

Sometimes these monks were called warrior doves, often with derision. After all, how effective could these warrior monks be? As far as Luther knew, they were an army of monks who protected the White Monastery and defended the non-warrior monks when they travelled. He doubted they’d ever been properly bloodied and battle tested.

Still, the warrior doves might be effective against a handful of bandits. But could they really face a proper attack?

Although now that Luther thought about it, he knew some had joined the monastic order after fighting in the war. But Luther had no idea if they’d joined the normal monks or the warrior monks. In fact, Luther had heard that one of his cousins had joined the monkhood.

The grand shield sat tall with a slight upward tilt to her chin. “Our warrior monks will be outside the ceremony chamber and on the lookout for any attack.”

“I can also provide some soldiers from Draconia to assist your warrior monks,” King Alaric said to the grand shield, “to ensure that the ceremony goes forth undisturbed.”

“We would also like to provide some Grey Mountains soldiers,” Warden Flint added.

The grand shield’s expression remained neutral. After several seconds, she nodded slightly. “That will be most welcome.”

Luther couldn’t tell if she was offended or not by King Alaric and Warden Flint’s lack of faith in the warrior doves’ ability to defend against potential attacks during the wedding ceremony.

But would someone really try to stop Warden Onyx and Luther from getting married?

Under other circumstances, Luther might welcome someone hindering their nuptials, but not if it meant interfering with this treaty. Luther did not want the kingdoms to return to war. He was done fighting.

King Alaric turned his gaze to the grand monk. “What about magical interference? Have you decided on the best way to stop that?”

“I have. We will place wards so that magic cannot be cast within the ceremony chamber.” The grand monk paused. “Except for our own magic, of course.” He smiled at Warden Onyx and then Luther. “We need to use our magic for the marriage contract to be truly binding.”

“Of course,” King Alaric said.

“Do Prince Luther and I need to do anything to prepare for the ceremony?” Warden Onyx lowered his thick brows. “I mean, do we need to prepare in a different way than we would for a typical marriage ceremony?”

“An excellent question, Warden Onyx.” The grand monk smiled at Warden Onyx. “But that won’t be necessary. You and Prince Luther just need to be present on the day. We will take care of the binding magic.”

Luther held in a sigh. The binding magic meant he could never break from the marriage contract. And there were certain vows they would bind themselves to when they married. For example, Luther and Warden Onyx would need to live within close proximity of each other for the rest of their lives. If they were apart for extended periods, madness and illness, and eventually death, would occur.

And only his death would free Luther from this union. But if one of them killed the other, the murderer would die almost instantly. Their heart would just stop beating. You really didn’t want to fuck around with the vows and contracts that had been created by the monks with their binding magic.

The monks would then use the same magic to bind the six kingdoms to the peace treaty.

Luther pondered that. “Why do you need eight marriages to seal the treaty if the treaty is going to be sealed with your binding magic?”

All gazes fixed on him. A flash of the previous night, of the musicians turning and staring at Luther, flashed in his mind. His heartbeat sped up. The hairs on the back of his neck stood.

That never happened. It was just a hallucination created by shimex mushroom dust.

Luther licked his lips and pressed on, “Can’t the treaty just be signed by all the rulers, and you use your binding magic to … bind everyone to the treaty? Why do we need to get married too?”

The grand monk smiled, a patient and rather condescending smile. “Unfortunately, the magic does not work like that, Prince Luther. You see, considering the longevity and the intensity of the war, it is not enough for the rulers of Draconia, Botanial, the Grey Mountains, the combined Kingdoms of Voltaria and Zephyrias, and Necros to merely sign.”

Luther regretted everything as the grand monk continued to speak. He shouldn’t have asked. Now he was stuck listening to the grand monk babbling on about some obscure magic whilst his head throbbed.

“The commitment to the peace treaty must be shown through actions, in this case through marriages between the nobility of the different kingdoms,” the grand monk said. “By binding and weaving your family lines together through these sacred marriages, you prove that you are all dedicated. That allows the peace treaty to be truly binding. One must prove they are committed through actions, not just through words and signatures. That is the only way that the magic will work.

“I hope that answers your question, Prince Luther,” the grand monk said. “If that doesn’t make sense, another way to look at it is?—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Luther interrupted. He forced a smile. “I understand. You’ve more than answered my question. Thank you, Grand Monk.”

“Excellent.” The grand monk clapped his hands together. “I am glad. But if you have any more questions, please ask.”

“Yes. Thank you, Grand Monk.” Warden Onyx flicked his gaze to Luther. “Especially because you talked about it at length earlier in the meeting. Today.”

Anger flared within Luther. It wasn’t Luther’s fault he hadn’t been listening.

Well, it was. But why did Warden Onyx have to be such a raging arsehole about it?

“I am always keen to assist anyone in understanding our magic, Warden Onyx. It gives me such great pleasure. Such a great pleasure indeed to discuss it with others. And I am aware that our magic is not the most straightforward form.” Grand Monk Ferdinand chuckled. “In my experience, repetition and further explanation can often assist in greater comprehension on such a complicated topic.”

“That makes sense,” Warden Onyx said.

Luther glowered at him. Why did Warden Onyx have to be such an arrogant dick about everything all the fucking time?

“It is such an interesting topic too,” the grand monk said. “I could talk about it for hours and hours.” He chuckled. “Are there any other questions about our magic?”

The grand monk looked around the table with obvious eagerness. “Or perhaps our healing magic. As you know, the healing monks perform a magic different from the binding magic.” He looked towards the other end of the table, where the grand healer sat.

“No?” When no one spoke, the grand monk deflated slightly. “Well, then I should go ensure all the preparations for the ball are going smoothly.”

“What ball?” Luther blurted out before he could stop himself. He blamed the exhaustion. Because Luther really didn’t care, and he just wanted this boring meeting to be over so he could collapse somewhere.

Warden Onyx took a deep breath.

“The ball is in honour of your betrothal to Warden Onyx,” Luther’s father said tersely. “It is part of your courting rituals.”

“Of course.” Luther laughed. “I knew that. I am very much looking forward to it.”

The grand monk rose, gaze on Luther. “And I must say that I am looking forward to seeing you dance together.”

The smile stayed frozen on Luther’s face.

Fuck me. When will this torture fucking end?