The Golden Dragon's Princess (Love and Other Sorcery #2)

Chapter 11

　　He watched my face as I braided, frowning, his violet eyes clouded. When I reached the end, he tied it off with a length of gold wire, winding it tightly around the hair.

　　It took less time to comb and braid my hair and he leaned forward to wind the wire around the tail of my braid, his cheek close enough that if I inclined slightly forward, I could brush my lips across the skin. “Are you Fae?” I asked him.

　　He turned his head slightly and arched a brow with a sneer. “No.” He turned back to winding the wire around my hair, twisting it to break it off the body of the coil and tucking the two ends so they were invisible to the eye. He leaned back into his seat. “You should go to bed,” he decided. “If you are to make yourself useful for another day.”

　　He took up a book and began to read.

　　I woke, the warmth of Aurien’s skin under the palm of my hand. He slept naked again, and I had wrapped around and pressed myself against him like a limpet. It was nice, I thought, his big body against mine was warm and we fit exactly so, as if we were made to lie this way. It would be even nicer, skin to skin.

　　I wondered if he would taste as good as he smelled. I could feel beneath my fingertips the golden hair that curled across his chest, and the rise and fall as he breathed. I very much wanted to slide my hand down the tight plane of his stomach, along the valleys that delineated his stomach muscles, and through the golden hair that curled darker just above…

　　I managed to peel myself off from him very carefully, so as not to wake him, my heart beating frantically and my body aching with unfamiliar need. Whatever he was, this man, whatever type of brethren, he was an irresistible temptation to me. It explained why he would live alone in a dragon’s cave if he had this effect on every female.

　　I went to the kitchen and used the bucket and scoop to clean the ashes from the fireplace and stacked the wood ready in the hearth. As I returned from casting the ashes off the ledge, the torches in the main cavern were lit, as was the fireplace, and Aurien was dressed and preparing oatmeal.

　　He regarded me with inscrutable violet eyes as he handed me the pot. I hung it off the hook and swung it over the flames, standing with the spoon to stir it as it cooked, whilst he prepared berries. He did not speak, and the silence that fell between us was heavy with tension. Did he know? I wondered. Did he know about the effect he had on women, on me? Had he woken to find me wrapped around him?

　　“I left Uyan Taesil two weeks ago,” I said to break it, because if he spoke, I feared what he would say. “I rode first to the temples, to see the Seers of Seigradh. They advised that I needed to seek the Fae Court, so I tried the normal things from hearth tales. I hunted down mushroom rings, I wore blue in enchanted forests, I went to known Fae hills and monuments, sunken roads and wishing wells.

　　“Clareath sent soldiers in pursuit of me, and so I was forced to cross the border into these lands. I went to the Graceplains and slept amongst the standing stones for three nights before hearing word of a good-witch, in a little village called Benal, who was known to have connections with the Fae.

　　“It was she who sent me here, to seek out the dragon,” I used a rag to lift the pot off the fire and served the oats into the two bowls he placed before me. His eyes watched me, his expression unreadable, and he did not interrupt, but simply absorbed the information I gave him. “I guess the Fae don’t find me appealing.”

　　I filled the pot with water and returned it to the fire before sitting across from him at the table.

　　“My brother makes an annual pilgrimage to the Seers, to seek guidance for the year ahead. This year, he did not make it to them. He sickened on the road. His company encountered Clareath whilst they tended him. She is from these lands and says that she was driven from her kingdom by Dark Elves and the Fae,” I added berries to our bowls. “Mathhian married her right there, on the roadside.

　　“My brother’s illness grew persistently worse upon his return, defying the treatments administered by our healers. Clareath, as Queen, began to assume more and more responsibility and power,” I stirred the oats in my bowl fretfully, releasing their steam.

　　“The brethren of the castle disappeared first, and it was just a… curiosity. Something whispered like gossip between courtiers.” I drew in a deep breath. “When my maid went missing, I knew something was amiss. I made my way into the dungeons, and…” A tear made its way down my cheek and landed in the oats. I stirred it in. “I couldn’t save them.”

　　“Your brother’s new wife is poisoning him,” Aurien observed coolly, seeming unmoved by my story. “And it would be your Elven blood protecting you from the Fae when you trespass. They would not consider it such, because you are part brethren.”

　　“The Elven is so far removed, I didn’t even consider that.” I confessed. “And, yes, I know that Clareath is poisoning Mathhian. But no one else would believe me. Every time I said it was so, it seemed to make me look more unbalanced and I feared that I would find myself locked up…” I gestured helplessly. “But I couldn’t just stand by and… watch.