Page 74 of Courting the Dragon Prince

Tears fell, sliding down the grand warden’s cheeks. But still, she smiled.

“I’m sorry you lost her,” Luther said.

His mother reached out and patted Luther’s hand. “Me too. Me too. I miss her so much.”

They sat silently together. After several moments, his mother’s eyes drifted shut. Her breathing grew heavy, and her hand slid off Luther’s and dropped into her lap.

Luther looked up then, meeting Onyx’s gaze.

ChapterThirty-Two

Onyx stared down at Luther. No surprise registered on Luther’s face. Clearly, he’d seen Onyx enter the room from the corner of his eye.

Luther placed his cup and saucer down. He rose and walked towards Onyx. “I need to say something to you,” he said, voice low.

Onyx nodded. Luther led them away a short distance to a spot by a window overlooking a garden filled with cherry trees. Several monks moved amongst the trees.

Onyx stared blankly at the monks, his thoughts spinning, trying to process what he’d just witnessed. He could feel Luther staring at him. But honestly, Onyx had no idea what to say to him.

A few moments ago, he’d hated Luther. And now?

He’d seen a side to Luther that he couldn’t quite fit with the image he held of the dragon prince.

“I’m sorry,” Luther said softly. “I … I vaguely remember hearing of the Grey Mountains’ heir dying. I don’t remember when. But at the time, we were enemies. So many were dying back then. I—” He shook his head. “And of course, I didn’t know you or that we would marry one day.

“But that isn’t an excuse. I … I should have …” Luther took a breath. “When I was told we would be marrying, I should have at the very least asked my father or siblings or someone a few basic questions about my betrothed.” Luther paused. “I’m sorry.”

The monks picked the fruit and placed them into the pouches that hung over their torsos. Onyx found something settling in watching them go about their work.

Of course, Tourmaline’s death hadn’t impacted Luther or been memorable to him in the way it had been to Onyx. To the dragons, Tourmaline’s death would not have been a loss or something to mourn. It would have been a victory. After all, it had been the dragons who’d killed her.

But it had hurt to know that Luther could be so oblivious to Tourmaline’s death when his people had been the cause. That it would have gone unnoticed to Luther when it tore Onyx’s own world apart.

And it was true that once Luther had known they’d be married, he should have shown enough interest in Onyx, in his betrothed’s family, to realise Onyx’s sister had died.

Still, Luther had apologised.

And at least he’d been kind to Onyx’s mother. He’d made her laugh. Onyx found he could forgive a lot for that.

Outside, two of the monks stopped to speak to each other.

“I haven’t heard my mother laugh in years,” Onyx said finally. “Not since my sister died.” Onyx turned back to Luther. “For years, she’s been so shut down, so lost to her misery. And today, you made her laugh. Thank you.”

Luther shook his head. “It was nothing.”

“It was not nothing,” Onyx said firmly. “You spoke to her and made her smile and laugh. I have not been able to do that.”

It was difficult for Onyx to admit it. But still, he could not deny the truth of it, nor the gratitude he felt towards Luther. Onyx had dutifully visited his mother, checked in on her, spoken with her, and tried to distract her from her grief and thoughts of Tourmaline. But for all his fulfilment of his responsibilities to his mother, he’d not been able to make her laugh.

“My sister and I were close,” Onyx said. “We trained for years side by side.” He snapped his mouth shut, worried that if he kept speaking, he might fall apart.

“I am sorry. Truly,” Luther said.

Onyx nodded. He cleared his throat. “And you know that stuff you said earlier about finding you disgusting.” This was easier than talking about his sister. “I don’t.”

“But you do look down on me.” Luther gave a bitter laugh. He glanced down at his feet. “Don’t pretend you don’t. You think I don’t take my duty seriously. That I can’t fulfil my responsibilities.” Luther smiled tightly. “I don’t blame you for thinking that. After all, my father thinks so. My siblings think so,” he said, voice sharp.

Onyx frowned. He couldn’t contradict Luther. Onyx did think Luther didn’t take his duty seriously. But it surprised him to realise it bothered Luther so much.