The princess of Sithein's blond curls fell in front
of her sapphire blue eyes as she sat spinning the
jeweled dagger on the table. It was carving a tiny
perfectly round indention in the wood. Not that
anyone would ever have noticed. The table had been
so abused over the years that there wasn't an inch of it
without a scar. It sat before an enormous
fireplace in the great hall of Sithein castle. The
ceiling here was high with arrow slits that could be
reached by scaffolding, but they hadn't seen an arrow in
her lifetime. A soft scent of herbs rose up from
the fresh rushes on the floor and mingled with the
comforting smell of the burning wood in the hearth.
A hand came down and grabbed the top of the dagger
pulling it from her hand. "Fiona, why must you
play with this thing? It's just about the least
ladylike toy I've ever seen!"
Fiona looked up at her mother now. She and the
queen looked a lot alike. Those who didn't know
them mistook them at first for sisters rather than
mother and daughter. Fiona actually even looked a
little bit older than her mother. Queen Dana was a
dragon, and dragons don't age like normal humans.
Fiona held out her hand for the dagger. "I'll
put it away."
Dana handed it to her with an unhappy sigh as she
watched her daughter turn so that her legs were unseen
under table and pull up her skirt to slide it back into
the sheath strapped to her ankle. "What am I going
to do with you, child?"
King Patrick walked out of the meeting room with the
guests. Dana watched as her daughter turned her
eyes on the company and flashed a dazzling smile that
would have convinced anyone she was interested.
Fiona played the game well but everyone they introduced
to her as a marriage prospect bored her to death.
Dana would never allow an arranged marriage. If
Fiona didn't absolutely love them, then it wasn't going
to happen.
"Fiona, why don't you take Prince Liam on a tour of
the city?" Her father was waiting for a smart remark.
Fiona could see it in his eyes, but she just smiled
happily at him and offered the skinny, little prince her
arm.
"Why, of course, Father, it would be a pleasure."
Prince Liam looked more than a little bit pleased
with himself and held her arm firmly. The moment
he turned his head she rolled her eyes and stuck her
tongue out at her parents. Her mother bit back a
laugh, but she could almost see the steam rising off of
Patrick.
* * *
"I don't see why I didn't get to go with Arlan to see
Grandmother and Aunt Dagmar!" Her aunt was the
queen of the dragons. One day soon her big brother
Arlan would become king. Dagmar was tired of
ruling and had no children of her own. The next in line
for the throne would be her sister Annika, Fiona's
grandmother, and then her mother, but neither of them
had expressed any interest in being the next Dragon
Queen.
"You know your father wanted you to meet the prince.
He's the last man in any of the nearby kingdoms that you
haven't turned up your nose at."
"Well, they're all just pompous, little boys!
That's not the kind of man I'm going to marry!"
"Well then for the love of all the gods tell me what
kind of a man it is that you'd be even the slightest bit
interested in." Her mother sat on the bed
next to her, looking into her eyes.
Fiona thought about that for a long time. "I'm
not sure."
Dana gave an exasperated sigh. "That isn't
helpful."
Fiona rolled her eyes in annoyance. "He'd have
to be brave and strong. I'm not going to marry one
of those fluffy diplomat boys. I want a warrior
and handsome, of course." She winked at her mother
with a little smirk.
Dana sighed and took her daughter's hands.
"Darling, sometimes what we think we want isn't what
falls into our laps. You have to be open enough to
see that what's in front of you might not be all that
bad."
Dana knew exactly why Fiona had been turning down
every single suitor that had ever made his affections
for her known. She'd had a crush on a man since
she was a little girl, who in all likelihood she would
never lay eyes on again. Of course, who knew what
fate had in store?
Dana looked across the room at her husband, Patrick,
who seeming to sense her eyes on him looked up and
smiled. Fate certainly had dealt her an unexpected
hand. She was raised by a wonderful old healer
woman with no knowledge of her true family, and somehow
she'd managed to fall in love and marry the king of
Sithein. Yes, fate could definitely be tricky at
times.
* * *
"Daddy, I don't like him, much less love him."
King Patrick put both hands on the table in front of
him and leaned forward looking into his daughter's eyes.
He had that stubborn look that told her this fight was
going to go on for hours. "You didn't even give the boy
a chance. You'll never fall in love with anyone if
you think everyone you meet is completely uninteresting
and never give them the opportunity to
Fiona turned to her mother who was sitting by the
fire embroidering a purple dragon on a piece of white
linen. Queen Dana quickly looked away from them
and back to the work she was doing, obviously not
wanting to take part in the argument. "Mama, tell
him he's wrong." She saw emerald green eyes peek
out from behind her mother's snow white hair, and she
knew without a doubt that she'd get no help.
"Darling, I'm not saying to marry the first boy who
walks in off the street, but you really should give some
of them the benefit of the doubt."
Fiona loosed a sound of frustration. They'd
been trying to marry her off since the moment they
realized she'd taken after her father and wasn't going
to get dragon powers. When one parent was human
and one dragon, there was always the chance that the
child would be completely without powers or the dragons'
long life. She wasn't her brother. She never
would be. He was set to be King of Sithein and
King of all the dragons in northern Europe, and she was
nothing but a princess they had to worry about putting
together a dowry and finding a husband for. She'd
never get magical powers, and she would grow old and die
like any other human. Was that a reason to throw
her out? To marry her off to anyone that would
have her?
"I don't want to get married at all, and you can't
make me! I refuse to be sent off to marry some
spoiled, little rich boy so that you can strengthen your
alliances."
She knew it was a mistake when she said it. Her
father's eyes turned dark, and he slammed his fist down
on the table. "You will marry whoever I say you're
going to marry and for whatever reason I see fit."
Her mother stood up now and laid a hand on his arm.
"Patrick..."
"Not a word, Dana. I'm sick and tired of her
attitude. By the end of this year, she is getting
married whether she likes it or not. I'll make all
the arrangements."
Fiona's heart was in her throat. She wanted to
scream, to rage, to tell him exactly what she thought of
him, but no words would come and that made her all the
angrier. So instead of giving him the satisfaction
of believing that the tears she felt welling up in her
eyes were because he'd hurt her and not because she was
so angry she wanted to beat him senseless, she turned
and walked out of the room slamming the door behind her.
As she walked down the hallway toward her room, she
saw the flames jump in the torches along the walls and
heard her mother's angry voice arguing with her father.
When she was back in her room she immediately went to
her trunk, pulled out her travel packs, and laid them on
the bed. If he was going to try to make her get
married then she was just going to have to leave so that
he didn't get the satisfaction. She shoved her
favorite dress, a couple of pairs of britches, and a
tunic into the bag. She'd probably have to travel as a
boy. Women traveling alone in these parts were a
rare thing.
When she was done she looked at herself in the
mirror. The tunic clung to her all too buxom
chest, but there was little to be done about that.
Surely she could pass for a boy with her cloak on.
She pulled it around her shoulders and pulled up the
hood. It covered all but a few escaping tendrils
of her long, blond hair.
Fiona looked at her hair in the mirror for a long
time. She should cut it. She knew she
should. It would be almost impossible to keep it
hidden. Her curls had a way of escaping any time
she tried to bind them, but she just couldn't bring
herself to do it. It was her favorite feature.
She knew she had pretty eyes too. People always
complimented her on them, but you couldn't hide behind
your eyes like you could a curtain of thick curls.
No, she wouldn't cut it. She'd have to find some
other way.
She slipped her dagger in the sheath at her waist and
pulled her tunic down over it. It was her favorite
possession. A man named Beltran had given it to
her a very long time ago, and it was her most beloved
possession. When she was only five years old,
she'd been captured by the Devantes. They were a
family of vampires who wanted to use her as a pawn to
bring down the Penndragons, another family who was
trying to ally themselves with the dragons. She'd
been taken to a fortress near Toledo. Most of them
had been very nice to her. At least they'd given
her everything she asked for, despite her kicking
several of them in the shins, but Beltran had been
different.
After some time they'd become friends. When
the Devantes along with two other families they were
allied with decided to turn her into a vampire, Beltran
had refused to have any part of it. She was only
five years old, and she'd heard the argument they'd had
about it. Her Spanish had been somewhat limited;
having only learned it in the time she'd been with them,
but she clearly understood that he would have no part in
the changing of such a little girl. His family had
cast him out, and he'd turned against them.
Eventually he'd come to Sithein and aided her parents in
her rescue. Before he left, he'd given her the
beautiful dagger and the black mare that she still rode
to this day.
She left a note for her mother on her trunk.
She'd see it when she came looking for her for supper.
She hated to worry her, but the thought of having a
husband chosen for her gave her a horribly sick feeling
in the pit of her stomach. With one final look
around the room she'd lived in since she was a little
girl, she slipped out and down one of the corridors to
her parent's bedroom. There she followed the
secret passageway leading from behind one of their
tapestries to the stables. Fiona slipped in
silently and saddled her mare. "Mirabel, we have a
long way to go. Are you up for it?" The
horse nuzzled her looking for oats.
They made their way to the gates of the city.
The guards were standing at their posts, and she took a
deep breath pulling the hood securely over her head so
that a stray wind wouldn't blow it away from her face.
As long as they didn't recognize Mirabel she'd be fine.
It was just now dusk. Many people were leaving the
city. She just had to make it far enough away that
they couldn't find her when they realized she'd gone
missing.
Dana found the note on Fiona's trunk and held it in
trembling fingers. So she'd run away. How
could Patrick have been so stupid as to threaten her
like that? With the temper Fiona had, of course
she'd run off to avoid being sold off in marriage to the
highest bidder.
She took the note and slammed it on the table in
front of him. He looked up at her, and his eyes
filled with horror. "What have I done? Where
would she go?" He lowered his head to his hands
and rubbed his eyes. Suddenly he looked his age,
and it sent a tremor of fear through her. Patrick
was sixty-two years old. He usually didn't look a
day over forty, but the fear seemed to amplify the lines
of his face, and his age showed through. His hair
was dark grey with one streak of white that spread out
from his forehead. "Dana, I just want to see her
taken care of when I'm gone. I'm not a young man
anymore."
Tears stung her eyes as she laid a hand that was as
smooth and young as it had been on the day they were wed
on his cheek. She aged so slowly, and he aged like
a normal human despite the fairy blood he'd gotten from
his mother.
The years they'd spent together had been so wonderful
and the thought of him ever leaving her left a hollow
feeling that she didn't know how she could ever fill.
"Patrick, don't talk like that. Please?" She
kissed him and knelt down, burying herself in his arms.
"I think I know where she's gone. As soon as it's
full dark, I'll go and warn them she's coming.
We've got to let her get this out of her system. I
don't know how you could have said such a terrible thing
to her. You know you wouldn't really make her
marry someone she didn't love."
He pushed the soft, white hair off her cheek, running
his hand through it. "Sometimes duty comes before
love."
"If I thought you really believed that, darling, I'd
never speak to you again." She gave him another
lingering kiss. "I'll go as soon as it's dark enough.
It's only a few hours flight."
* * *
Arianna was stretched out in the soft grass in the
small garden behind their home. She could hear the
sounds of a bard playing next door in the tavern.
It was the reason she'd insisted they buy this
particular house when they moved to London to search for
the last remnants of the Penndragon family. They'd
almost been completely wiped out by the Southern
Alliance, a group of three families from southern
Europe, just twenty years before.
It had taken a little convincing to get her husband,
Caedmon, to agree to the noisy house. Having grown
up in Sithein, he was used to a much quieter life than
anything that could be found in London. Of course,
besides the entertainment of the music, the tavern made
a wonderful place to hunt. Caedmon and Arianna
were vampires, and though they never killed their
victims, they did need blood to survive, and it was easy
to find it among the drunken patrons of the tavern.
She saw a strange shape in the night sky overhead.
There was something white that appeared to be flying
over the city hundreds of feet above the ground.
From this distance it looked like it might be a bird,
but as it began a slow circling decent she knew exactly
what it really was. The snow white dragon made a
graceful circle before completely disappearing, just as
it would have been within view of human eyes. She
looked around the courtyard knowing that Queen Dana
could make herself completely invisible if she wished
to.
Sure enough within moments the cloud of darkness
seemed to unwrap itself from the body of the beautiful,
white creature. It had a long, graceful neck and
iridescent skin almost like it was covered in a thin
sheen of frost. The body was no larger than that
of a very large warhorse, but the tail that whipped
around looked as if it could have taken out a team of
horses.
Suddenly the dragon was shrinking back into the human
shape of a beautiful young woman. Arianna noted
with envy the broad hips and full chest. Her own
body was more lean and muscular, and she'd often wished
it looked something more like Queen Dana's despite the
fact that Caedmon told her she was perfect just as she
was. Arianna offered her cloak to the queen.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Dana?"
Dana smiled, but she looked clearly exhausted.
"I think that Fiona is on the way here. She's run
away."