The Dragons' Chosen (20 page)

I held out my hand. “I would like to see the compact, please.”

Hugh looked startled. “Compact?” He blinked. I pressed my back against the hard rock wall, trying to look regal and confident. It was difficult; I could not forget that dragons surrounded me.

“The agreement. I want to see the Princess Pact.”

He frowned.

“Is there some difficulty with this request? I have never seen one, nor, I am certain, had my father. Why should I believe your legendary tale?” I asked. He stood stony-faced across from me. This was a contest of wills, and no one who knew me ever doubted my will.

“There is a written agreement, is there not?” I arched one eyebrow. Be they dragons or wolves or men too full of themselves, I would not flinch. I held his eyes.

“The contract, please.”

He blinked again and a small furrow of confusion crossed his face. He flicked a glance at Chris standing at my side in her sunshine yellow chemise that read, “A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.” I could almost see inside his head as he struggled with several emotions.

He snorted at me, indignation writ on his face. “You think we carry it around like a stick?” Somewhere behind us, I heard a rustle.

James coughed, then cleared his throat. “Actually, we do. A copy is stored here, that is. It is one of the original conditions for the transfer.”

Hugh did not look pleased, but seemed satisfied with glowering at his cousin, a promise of later consequences possibly. I didn’t care. I was determined to see the document. What agreements had been made and how was it worded? Perhaps there was a missing signature or an ambiguous turn of phrase, anything I could use to turn to my advantage.

James rummaged through a leather bag tucked beneath a ledge and pulled out an oilskin-covered packet. Hugh stepped over and snatched it from him. He held it out to me, almost disdainfully. “Would you like me to help you read it?”

I lifted the cover, extracted a packet of folded documents, and met his eyes with equal disdain. “I believe that we can manage, but if we need any help, I certainly know who to ask.”

As I turned to leave, I chanced a look at Tristan. A single eyebrow lifted.

---

Back in our quarters, I sat reading page after page of tiny archaic script. I recognized the seal of Gaulen on each page. The language was formal and pedantic, laden with legal terms and conditions. I sighed, struggling with the curly script and thanking my tutors for forcing me to read scroll after scroll of ancient text. I would not compromise myself by asking the men for assistance. I would figure it out. Nearby, Chris fussed with her pack and hummed to herself.

“What day is it?”

I didn’t look up. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Chris turned toward me with a silly grin on her face. “It’s the sixteenth of October.” A ridiculous sliver of a candlestick was lit, and as she carried it over to me, she sang a little ditty, repetitive, but sweet. I had never heard a birthday song before.

I bowed my head in acknowledgement and clapped my hands as she concluded. “You remembered.”

“Yep. Make a wish and blow it out.”

I closed my eyes and thought of my home and my family and all that I loved. And I wished them safe. I blew until the stick no longer burned. I wondered if my wish would come true. It seemed likely that I would never know.

Chapter 28

Hugh and the other four men stood gathered before me. I took in a hasty breath, hoping they wouldn’t notice my nervousness.

I held the contract in one hand. “I thank you for providing me with this.” The men stared at me, as if any moment they might change into what they were—dragons. I resisted shivering at the palpable smell of sulfur that engulfed me. “It’s been so illuminating.” I stood planted, swallowing any fear that might undermine my words. Beside me, Chris squeezed my hand in encouragement.

“This has provided me with a more complete understanding of what the first princesses negotiated, and why, those many years ago.” I looked directly at Hugh. “I also see that it is my choice whom I marry. One of the reasons that several nobles are traditionally sent, is it not?” At his expression of outrage, I quickly looked down at the document, paraphrasing, “Five men are needed to bring a princess safely through the high pass between your lands and mine.” I trailed my finger across the wording. “Hale and healthy men of honor for her to choose from.” I looked up at them. “So that puts a very different turn on this. The contract is valid as long as I marry into the royal family.” I chanced a look at the other men through my lashes. “I may select any one of you and meet the conditions of this treaty.” The room was so silent you could hear the click of an errant bat flapping around in the uppermost climes of the cave.

Hugh stepped forward. “No, this is not possible.”

I smiled brightly at him and, with my fingertip, underscored the wording in question. He wasn’t looking happy.

“Each of you will be evaluated to see if any one of you meets my standards—as I was evaluated by yon three envoys there.” I allowed myself a flash of annoyance toward Tristan. “A contest is reasonable.” I looked out at each of them in turn. “Perhaps three, to give careful deliberations of your strengths and suitability,” I finished, throwing their wording back at them.

Hugh had the most interesting scowl, but I stuck to my speech.

“While I’m sure you are all truly wonderful, we don’t know each other and, given the circumstances,” I reminded them, “my father has not been afforded the opportunity to select one of you.”

They looked at one another in disbelief and then at Hugh, who sputtered, “It has always been the eldest son of the king.”

“Chantal.” James nodded as if pleased with the memory. “After the First Princesses, she’s the only one who didn’t. She married Clement, the youngest of old King Allard’s sons. All the rest married first sons, as has become tradition.”

Hugh jumped on that. “There must have been some reason, some pressing reason not to follow tradition, not to marry the king. He was ill or deformed…”

“The language here is that they were ‘hale, healthy and of honor.’ Do you doubt this?” I waved the papers.

“This was agreed upon by your high consul and by our advisors, then ratified by our Kings.” I stared at them for the full space of a breath, letting it sink in. “Are you saying these men weren’t learned enough to define the scope of a treaty?”

No one spoke.

“Or should I be asking if all of you are ‘hale, healthy and of honor’?” I looked at the strong male bodies across from me. Tristan’s face paled but I didn’t give him the pleasure of my curiosity. “If that is not the case, I will be happy to return to my home.”

I scanned their faces. Disbelief, anger, interest, reflection and yearning crossed different countenances.

“Certainly, I wish to comply with the Princess Pact. As you said, you chose me based on careful deliberations. I propose a series of challenges for me to select an appropriate groom. As I said, three seems a reasonable number.” I smiled again, hoping I could outmaneuver them.

“What kind of challenges?” Hugh spat. I thought I saw the hint of flame in his mouth and my stomach clenched.

“If you accept my decision, I agree to return with you,” I said, ignoring a kick from Chris. “But it would be my choice, my decision, which of you I wed. These challenges will show me who you are, your strengths and your skills. And show, by your own behavior, who my choice should be.”

Hugh rallied, staring down each of his kin. “No. This is not possible. You were chosen for me.” He reached out as if to grab me. Chris insinuated herself between the two of us.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said slowly. They both froze, eyes locked, staring one another down. Something flashed between them, something I couldn’t read.

I intervened before it escalated into something more. “You took time to choose me for your kingdom, to form an alliance that will maintain the compact. I also need time. This is too important a decision to rush, to close my eyes and randomly pick. I would know you, each of you.”

I looked at Hugh seething in front of me. “Perhaps you are the one I will choose. But first we will have the contests,” I reminded him.

A muscle in his face twitched. “We cannot wait here for you to playact a game, a farce. The storms will come. This can be addressed later after we return home.”

I raised my head and stuck out my chin. “No, I will decide here. You think I don’t know what will happen once I’m in your lands? There, you are king. No other men would dare offer for me. I’d be herded into marriage with you like a lone calf by wolves. No, I will decide here.”

A vein pulsed in his forehead. The others imperceptibly drew away from him. “You are here alone without counsel.”

I waved my hand at Chris, pointing out his oversight.

His eyes landed on her. He gave a dismissive jerk of his head. “She’s a stranger from a place far-off. This is not a decision that a mere chit should help make, one that could affect both our lands.” He spoke in a tone calculated to reduce my argument to that of a willful child.

My face flushed. I could feel my temper rising also. “I see. I’m good enough to be your queen and bedmate, but not good enough to choose my own counsel, nor make a decision this important to my life and welfare.” I sensed the others stirring restlessly.

“I repeat: I do wish to adhere to this compact, but you also are bound by it. The Princess Pact is clear. You choose the princess, but I choose my husband.” I dismissed him and his posturing.

He started to speak but I was tired of it, tired of being agreeable, tired of smiling as I was going to my death, and very tired of others controlling my fate. “You may decide not to enter these contests; that is entirely up to you.” I moved a step closer, projecting my voice. “But I will do the selecting of my husband!”

Chapter 29

There was a subtle change in the room as each of the other man-dragons seemed to consider the possibilities. It was obvious that not one of them had read the contract closely; I wondered how its original dictum had been lost, when it was so clearly spelled out.

Hugh smiled as if he had one last move to make. “Do you truly understand the consequences, My Lady? If you chose another, you won’t be queen. You’re a proud woman, bred to rule. Would you remain a princess, sitting powerless in a foreign land? My cousins and brothers are good men, but I am king, not them.”

I frowned. From a princess to a morsel, to queen, and back to princess, my status ricocheted.

Chris looked incensed. “You’re such a jerk. You devalue all women with that statement, not just Genny. Like that’s all women think about in marrying, not love or friendship but only status and money.”

Hugh was right and Chris was wrong. Money was important and status more so. How could it not be? Love was but a word in a troubadour’s ballad. And friendship…I wasn’t a dreamer. But I wasn’t about to give Hugh any more leverage than he already had.

I smiled. “My decision stands. As we have seen from the documents, you are merely my suitor, one of several.” I waved my hand at the other men.

Rauf spoke then so quietly that I almost missed his words. “She might marry any one of us? Who of us wouldn’t wish for that?”