Chapter Three

 

 

I awoke in a soft bed which smelled of lavender and chamomile. The pillows were full and cushioned my head perfectly. The blankets were thick and warm. A canopy of rich, blue velvet hung above my head, swathed with gold cords. Across from the bed, mullioned windows looked out on a stormy sea, waves pummeling the boulders which dared to stand steady in the shallows.

I sat up and noticed that someone had removed my outer dress. I was sleeping in my cotton shift. No matter. I was still covered, and I wasn't in any pain. It was unlikely that anything nefarious had been done to me while I slept. That was something to be thankful for, though perhaps I would prefer to be asleep when the time came for my deflowering. I swallowed hard, pushing that thought away resolutely, and got out of bed.

There was a pitcher of water sitting within a basin, on the far side of the room. An oval mirror in a gold frame hung over it. I went to wash my face and revive myself, wiping off the water with one of the linen towels stacked beside the basin. I looked up into my reflection and took stock.

My skin was even paler than usual, with dark smudges beneath my eyes and within the hollows of my cheeks. My eyes, normally a bright green, were darkened with anxiety. My hair seemed darker too, nearly mahogany instead of its usual flaming auburn. It fell around me in wild tangles. So I took up the wood comb laid out beside the basin, and put my unruly locks back in order. Vanity? No. A princess had to use whatever she could to survive, and her beauty was high on that list. I would have to use my charms to soften the beast as much as I could. And so I needed to look my best.

I found my dress draped over a chest at the foot of the bed. I slipped it on but had no one to tie the laces for me. So I sat in a high-backed chair beside the window and waited. Hopefully, they would send a woman to help me dress. I folded my hands in my lap and tried to be patient. Outside, the storm continued to grow steadily stronger, and I wondered if we had flown through it. But no, my hair was dry. Surely it would still be damp if we had come through that weather.

“Adelysia,” the hissing purr seemed to creep up my spine. I stiffened as Saunder walked into the room. “Did you have a nice rest?” He smiled, absolutely amused that I could sleep through my abduction.

“Well enough,” I stood to face him. “I require some assistance with my laces. Would you be so kind as to send a lady to help me?”

“Would I...” he blinked at me in surprise, and then burst into laughter. “Ever the princess,” Saunder shook his head. “I'm afraid you must rely on me for all your needs.”

Saunder strode over and turned me around briskly. But then I heard his intake of breath, and his hands gentled upon me. He carefully pulled the heft of my hair over into one mass, and draped it across my shoulder. Then I felt Saunder's lips at my neck, his breath tickling my skin. The urge to squirm was nearly impossible to resist, but I managed to stay still. I had to win him over if I wanted any chance at happiness.

Saunder moaned when I didn't pull away, and eased his bulk closer to me. Thick hands, as large as my head, crept over my shoulders and held me firmly in place. I felt the warm wetness of his tongue flick out to taste my skin, then he trailed it down to the edge of my shift. I closed my eyes and pretended to be somewhere else. Then his hands shifted to my hips and pulled me back against him. I felt the massive length of his shaft press into the crevice of my backside as he ground himself into me.

I fought the urge to vomit.

“Adelysia,” Saunder said into my ear, “I have dreamed about you naked beneath me, writhing in pleasure. I can give you that. I can make you scream in ecstasy instead of fear.”

“Will I be your wife or your whore when I do this screaming?” I asked calmly.

Saunder chuckled and pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I will have you for my wife,” he promised, and I relaxed a little. “You thought I would debase you? I love you, Adelysia. Besides, we would have to war with your kingdom if I made their princess into a whore. And as much as I love war, my father has grown weary of it. So we shall be married, rest easy, my sweet.”

“So be it,” I sighed. My father would have married me to a prince anyway. What did it matter if the choice was taken from him? A prince was a prince.

“You've made me so happy.” Saunder eased around to my front and lowered his lips to mine.

At least he had cleaned his teeth since the last time he'd kissed me, and this time Saunder tasted of mint instead of meat. Maybe this wouldn't be so awful, after all. I tried to relax against him. But then he pulled my dress down, and I gasped, yanking away from him.

“Easy, Princess. I'll offer you no harm. I just want to look upon what's mine. Something to tide me over until our wedding night. Unless you'd like to submit to me now?”

“Look your fill,” I ground my teeth together and dropped my arms. But then he started to pull up my shift, and I snatched at his hands again.

“Just a look,” Saunder promised, his blood-red eyes gleaming. “And maybe a little taste.”

“No,” I ground out. “I'll allow you your look, as long as you don't touch me.”

“Bargaining already,” Saunder smirked. “Very well. I find myself in a generous mood since you have pleased me by accepting our engagement. Remove your shift.”

I pulled the dress over my head and stared at the floor as he stared at me. His hand reached out, and I jerked my angry eyes up to his. Saunder held up his hands in a surrendering gesture, smiling wickedly. But he wasn't surrendering. He was taking everything he wanted with his stare. Saunder looked me over lazily, walking around me in a circle, and then finally, he took the shift from me and helped me back into it. Then he lifted the gown around me and laced the back. When I was fully dressed, Saunder pulled a ring from his pocket and slipped it onto my finger.

“I have claimed you now,” he kissed my cheek. “By might, by sight, and by right. You are mine.”

He left me without another word. I looked down at the ring upon my finger. It was a thick band of gold with a shield shaped crest on top. The crest had a dragon carved into it, filled in with black enamel, wings spread wide. It was Saunder's house crest.

“So, a dragon's bride it is,” I sighed and went back to my seat at the window.