Page 22 of The Dragon Queen Complete Series Collection

Chapter 22

Nadia didn’t mean to fill me with a sense of foreboding as she moved around me, as she and Sue, the local seamstress, held up bolt after bolt of fabric against my skin. Luckily for us, Arabella and Cecily had had quite the stockpile of rich fabrics, which really came as no surprise. The way they looked had always been more important than anything else.

And I felt the exact opposite.

I’d had some pleasure in receiving a new gown before I was exiled. Crisp, untouched fabric, especially in a style that was flattering, inspired fledgling feelings of pride, of a growing sense that I might be quite pretty, with the right adornments. But now? I’d said goodbye to Pig at my parents’ graves, but some aspects of her still lingered to react to the idea of having so many dresses. The two women were discussing at length what I would likely need in the capital, planning out my entire trousseau between them.

But I wanted to shove it all aside, pull the fabric draped around me off, leave a shower of pearl headed pins behind. I wanted to step free, my feet taking me out of the room and?—

“She’ll need ballgowns,” Sue said, Nadia scribbling down notes. “Day dresses and evening wear. And then there’s the dress she’ll wear when presented to the king and queen.” The older woman’s eyelashes fluttered at that, her hand going to her bosom. “How long did you say we have?”

“A day or two at most.”

The arrogant male voice cut across everyone else’s as Draven arrived in the doorway, looking at the three of us with a slight frown.

“And you won’t be responsible for the lady Pippa’s entire wardrobe. Such a task would be too much to ask at such a short notice.” The seamstress flushed as his voice grew gentler, full of rationality and reason. “Just the one dress, one that suits a woman of Lady Pippa’s standing, sufficient to get her to the capital and before my parents, where we’ll be able to employ a phalanx of seamstresses to concoct dresses for every occasion.”

He looked back at me, something that offended the rules of propriety, but he didn’t seem to care.

“The silver.” He nodded, decisively. “It brings out the grey in her eyes and the sheen of it might go some way to softening her frame into some semblance of femininity.”

When he turned back to the other two women, they just stood there, frozen still at his implied criticism, not able to say or do a thing.

“You’ll be paid richly for your time, both of you. Thank you for taking on this task for me.”

He nodded to each of them, but not to me, leaving me standing on the damn step stool, wrapped in fabric, like a dead body in its shroud, and due all the same respect.

“Don’t worry, milady,” Sue said, turning to me. “There’s tricks of the trade we can use to help you. You are lovely and slim though, which goes a long way. I can pad out a dress, but it’s hard to hide a double chin.”

“Don’t,” I replied, the two women going quiet again. Before I was banished, had I ever noticed how much our rank silenced those around us? I did now. “I appreciate what you’re offering me, Mistress Sue, and I thank you for that offer, but…” I smoothed my hands down my body, feeling the slight curves there. “I go to the capital as I am, for good or ill. Neither the prince nor I asked for this, but trying to preserve some kind of illusion is hardly likely to help.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, don’t you worry,” Sue said with a definite nod. “And with your frame, you’ll suit some of those lovely high necked fashions the more busty girls can’t manage. You’ll be as elegant as a queen in silver with a golden dragon.”

Glimmer was curled up in an armchair, sleeping soundly right now.

“Thank you, Mistress?—”

“Just Sue.” Her plump hand came to rest on my arm. “After what you went through… And after I used to make your gowns and your lady mother’s…” She blinked, her eyes filling with unshed tears, but mine were resolutely dry. “You’ll have my best work, milady, to go some ways to making amends to what happened to you.”

I took her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze, dimly aware of my mother’s direction as I did so. Treat the people that serve you well and they’ll do so for the love of you, not the obligation.

“What’re you doing in men’s clothes still?” Draven snapped the morning of our departure. He frowned at the sight of me, all of the riders ranging around him. “You were given armour to wear for the duration?—”

“You’re ripping me away from my estates before I’ve had enough time to set up a manager to run things in my stead,” I snapped back, Draven’s eyes flashing in response. “But I have one task I need to complete before I leave. Then I’ll don the dress, the wig”—one had been found in the depths of our attic— “and the armour and we can be off.”

Master Gerald appeared in the open back door, hat going to his hands when he saw my audience.

“Ready, Gerald?” I asked.

“When you are, milady.”

Tramping through the trees was a strange experience, full of memories, of sounds and smells both familiar and an assault on my senses. When we reached the clearing where the hut stood, I stopped at the treeline, the stench of the place hitting me so much harder now that I didn’t live and breathe it every day. I took one step forward, my father’s boots clean and gleaming as I stood on the bare earth, this far out not churned up and stunk out by pigs.

It looked so very small. The hut was barely the size of my father’s room. The rough-hewn planks that made the walls were too far apart, with mud jammed into the gaps in the winter, only to fall out and let the icy winds in.

“What on earth could make you want to come out here?” Draven asked, holding his gloves to his nose, but the others, the riders, Gerald, they knew. They knew what I needed done here.

“Pull it down, Master Gerald,” I ordered, feeling a thrill of satisfaction at those words. “Burn everything inside it and then scatter the ashes.”

“Of course, milady.”

“Then rebuild a cottage here, made from good stone and mortar. There’s no point making it grand, but something that makes the very hard work of swine herding tolerable.” Gerald nodded, his entire focus on me, even as Draven muttered something in response. “Move the pens away from the house so whoever takes over, they’re not reduced to traipsing through mud and shit endlessly. Install a bathhouse on the side with a pump to get water.”

“No gilt taps?” Draven snapped. “No marble floor?”

“It will be as you say, milady,” Gerald said, dropping me a brief bow.

Not long afterwards, I was trussed up in the silver dress, the feel of the fabric fluttering around my legs feeling strange as I moved to pull on the leather armour I’d been given. Apparently, ladies rarely went up on dragon back, so I’d be forced to wear the trousers under the skirt of my dress. Flynn had suggested I wear men’s clothes under armour. That we’d have time for me to dress properly when we reached the dragon keep at the centre of the capital, the massive building that housed all of the throne’s dragons. But Draven wouldn’t have it. He glared at my father’s best suit, the same way he had the entire time since he’d arrived.

“My intended isn’t running around the country, looking like a stable lad,” he’d complained at dinner last night.

“If your stable lads are dressed as well as this,” I had said, flicking my fingers across my lapels. “Then perhaps you’re paying them too much.” I watched Draven’s jaw lock tight in a way I’d come to look forward to.

Because he was able to have civil conversations with each of the riders. He spoke to Brom like he was an equal, to Flynn like they were long lost brothers. With Soren he was all respect and deference, and with Ged there was a rough camaraderie. Even with my staff, Draven was polite, thanking them for all that they did, praising Cook’s dishes until the woman puffed up with pleasure.

Then there was me.

Nadia had mentioned it. I’m sure everyone downstairs had remarked on the coolness between the lady of the house and the crown prince. I had felt a flush of shame at that initially, but now? I’d smiled across the dinner table as I saw his eyes flash with blue fire that rivalled Glacier’s scales for their brilliance. I’d let my eyes linger on his full lips, now pressed into a thin line, for a few heartbeats too long, then dragged my gaze back to meet his, head on, in a way that he no doubt felt was terribly unfeminine.

I did the same now as I walked downstairs, feeling as though I was trussed up like a chicken in this strange combination of dress and armour. But did Draven look any happier at the sight of me, appropriately dressed?

No, if anything he looked even more pained, as if my crimes against fashion were committed in his name. And perhaps that was the issue. He had no choice in taking a wife, just as I didn’t my husband, and, worse still, this stranger that was thrust his way due to a twist of fate would stand by his side as queen. My gaze softened then, for just a moment, and I saw Ged exhale in response before the prince spoke again.

“The wig?”

That was Draven’s response? Not: lovely frock, darling; you look quite fetching. Or, at the very least, that I was passing pretty. Not one positive remark. So I hoisted the horrible scratchy thing like one might a recalcitrant cat and held it in the air.

“It will need to stay in my bag. It’d get whisked away in the first stiff breeze,” I informed him.

“I’ve got a helmet and goggles for you, milady,” Ged said, stepping forward with a ready smile, offering me what I’d need, but Draven held out a hand.

“Anything the queen-in-waiting needs will come from my hand.”

I felt a shiver travel through my body, even though we still stood on the good earth. Draven hadn’t used my soon-to-be title once since he’d arrived, but when it came tripping off his lips now, it didn’t fill me with satisfaction or pride. If he’d used a curse word to describe me, he couldn’t have done so with any more venom. Ged’s face fell, as did mine, Glimmer scaling my sleeve rapidly, then perching on my shoulder to hiss at the prince. I went to hush her, to quiet her or something, but he just stared at the small dragonling with absolute animosity.

The leather helmet and goggles were thrust at me, hanging from his hand as I just stared as if stupefied. My feet didn’t move until I heard his terse hiss.

“Take them.”

At that, I did as I was told, careful not to let our fingers graze as I snatched them from his grip. I moved to put them on, not bothering to ask for help, working it out as I tightened the chin strap, then tying the goggles around my head.

“Perfect.” Only Draven could say one word and mean the complete opposite. “Let’s get this sideshow on the road. The sooner we’re home, the sooner we can work out what the hell to do about this situation.”

What to do? I stared through the strangely distorted glass of the goggles as each rider passed me by. What the hell was there to be done?

“Ged…” I whispered his name as he passed, his steps slowing, then he turned on his heel and approached me. “I can’t stay here with Glimmer, can I? Another queen egg might be laid, a more suitable queen-in-waiting found.”

“Have you heard of the Mortimers?” he asked me, reaching over and tightening the chin strap further.

“No. Who are they?”

“Earl Mortimer was a prominent Tharfieldian nobleman with a large number of the northern families in his pocket. He bade his two sons, who’d bonded with dragons, to come home and help him hold his estates.”

“So?”

“So the entire dragon force was deployed against the Mortimers. Their dragons fought valiantly, from what I’ve read, but…” He shook his head slowly. “But they weren’t going to do much, not against the rest of the fleet. Every single Mortimer, down to the youngest of babes, was eradicated until there was nothing left of them.”

His brows drew down then.

“It’s one of the first lessons we learn about dragons when you bond with a dragonling. They really drive it home for you. Dragons exist as an extension of the crown or…” Ged’s fingers rested on my chinstrap longer than was needed and yet somehow, not long enough. “Or they don’t exist at all.”

“Ged!”

Draven’s voice had both of us jumping, Ged snatching his fingers away. We turned as one and then marched out of the house.

“Farewell, my lady.”

Nadia spoke the words, but it seemed the entirety of the staff had gathered outside to see us off. She handed my suitcase to me, with some of my favourite books and a few sets of Father’s clothes in it.

“Look after things here, until I get back,” I told her. I’d signed over the care of the house to her, the last housekeeper having been Cecily’s creature. She’d work with Gerald, who’d keep the estate running.

“You know I will. And you will, won’t you? You’ll come back after you’ve been made queen?”

I smiled then, to reassure her, to drive away the frown that was forming between her brows, but I didn’t reply, because I had no way of knowing. The riders had prepared me to care for Glimmer, ensuring I knew how to oil her, feed her and sort her saddle when she was ready to be ridden, but they hadn’t prepared me for this. Draven held out an imperious hand, and for a moment I thought he wanted to take mine, lead me over to Darkspire. But, instead he used it to snatch away my bag and lash it to his dragon’s saddle.

Glimmer and I were left to confront Darkspire, the massive dark green dragon staring at the two of us with a baleful eye. So dire was his gaze, I half expected him to alight to get away from us. Glimmer hissed at him, something that had me shoving her down into the leather jacket where I had stashed a hot water bottle, to keep her warm and secure during the flight. But Spire was in the same situation as us, suffering through this whole thing with ill grace.

I got up in the saddle, feeling the dragon move beneath us as we settled, then I found my position, Draven moving in behind me.

“Lean forward.” I complied with the order, wrapping my hands around Darkspire’s spine, then felt his arms around mine as he did the same. “Onward, lad. Take us home, to whatever the hell awaits us when we get there.”