The Dragon's Rose Page 8

  “My queen!” she said happily and clapped her hands.

  “Yep, I’m back.” Bella intoned, and Alannah excitedly sat beside her as the wagon began to move once more through the trees.

  “Your majesty, you look affright!” Alannah said as she fussed about Bella. Bella nodded and looked out into the distance through the window, her mind on the kiss that she and Rogan shared. Alannah’s hands were in Bella’s hair, and Alannah was making quick work of pulling out the twigs and pieces of leaves in her thick mane.

  She began brushing the knots from Bella’s hair. Alannah’s nimble fingers felt soothing, and soon Bella was dozing off in her chair. Alannah was about to cease her motions, but Bella stayed her hand and relaxed beneath Alannah’s continued ministrations. Soon, Bella was in a deep sleep.

  Bella awakened sometime later in a bed. She shot up and looked around. She was in a tent of some sort, and it looked even more luxurious than the wagon had been. A fire roared cheerfully in a hearth to the side, and Bella lay beneath a mound of furs and covers. Bella kicked off the covers and swung her legs off the bed. She stalked over to the entrance of the tent and then felt a tug at her ankle.

  “What the hell?!” she exclaimed and looked down. There, resting around her ankle, was a manacle. Candescent light was spilling from the chain, and Bella tugged. She continued to pull against the chain and attempted to get it off her ankle. She roared in frustration.

  “Hildevar!” she yelled, but was greeted with silence.

  “Alannah!” she tried once more and then tugged on the chain again.

  “Damn it! Rogan!” she yelled, and this time she heard the shuffle of footsteps approaching.

  “You called, my queen,” Rogan said in a teasing tone, and Bella growled with anger.

  “What the hell is this on my leg?” she demanded, and he shrugged.

  “You went to help a servant who dedicated her life to protect you. That is not the proper behavior for a future queen.”

  “I went to help a friend.”

  Rogan huffed. “Is she really? Or is she a servant who has been bound to you?”

  “I don’t care what you say, Rogan. She’s been one of the few people who’s been nice to me here. There was no way I was letting her die.”

  “Hildevar can take care of herself.”

  “But what if she couldn’t? What then?”

  “Her life does not match your own. It is a small sacrifice for the safety of the queen.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. Unlike you, I actually care about people.”

  Rogan’s eyes went hard. “And I do not? You do not think that my every action is done with the welfare of my people in mind?” Rogan’s voice was rising with each syllable, and Bella shrank back.

  “I sacrifice every day to make sure my people survive. I make hard decisions that often cost the lives of the few to save the many. It is my guilt and my burden to do so, and I do so willingly and with the respect that my kingship deserves!”

  Bella said nothing for a moment and simply stared at the floor. “So, I get that you want to be good to your people, but what does shackling me to this—goddamn pole…” Bella yanked her leg angrily “…have to do with your people’s best interest?”

  Rogan ran a hand through his thick mane and sighed. He rolled his eyes heavenward, as if in frustration.

  “Bella, you do not understand. You are important to my people. I need you by my side. As insufferable as you are,” Rogan sniffed disdainfully, and Bella gasped.

  “Whatever, Rogan. You’re just angry that I don’t jump to your every whim. Now, get this off of me!”

  “No.”

  “Rogan!”

  “I have made my decision. You would be much safer here. I can’t have you gallivanting about trying to save servants when your place is at my side as queen.”

  “You are such an ass.”

  “Harsh words. But nevertheless, this is for your own good.”

  “I don’t need you telling me what’s good for me. I’m an adult and can decide for myself.”

  “So running off into a dark forest full of creatures intent on killing you was an adult decision?”

  Bella wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. Instead, she simply glared.

  “Just because you didn’t care enough to save Hildevar doesn’t mean I don’t.”

  Rogan said something low, and Bella strained her ears.

  “What was that?”

  “I said,” Rogan said louder as he turned back towards Bella, “that I care. I have known Hildevar since we were children. I care deeply for her and for her safety. But she took an oath to protect our kingdom even if it meant at the cost of her own life, and as king, I cannot sacrifice the greater good for the life of just one servant.”

  Bella knew that what Rogan was saying was entirely logical, but the thought of simply sitting back and letting Hildevar die didn’t seem like a good option to Bella either.

  She sighed and then sat on the bed in a huff.

  “I think you need to take these off,” she insisted, and Rogan shook his head.

  “I will not. I need to get you to my father’s kingdom in one piece.”

  “You know, I’m not really feeling the whole “meeting your father” thing anyway,” Bella remarked, and Rogan looked unsurprised as he walked the length of the room.

  “I’m sure,” Rogan agreed and then continued. “But you will. And you will sit and be the good little queen I know you are.”

  Bella groaned. “I am. Not. Your. Queen!”

  Rogan chuckled. “You are. You just have to admit it.”

  Rogan turned to leave, and Bella cried after him.

  “Don’t you dare leave! You get back here and take these off! Rogan!”

  Bella screamed and railed for what seemed like hours before settling down once more on the bed. She kicked futilely at the manacle and glared at the opening of the tent before flopping on her back in aggravation.

  After a long while, she heard the soft whoosh of footsteps and the feel of cold air. Bella popped up and saw Hildevar approaching with a tray in hand.

  “I thought you would like something to eat, my queen,” she said softly, and Bella snorted.

  “Don’t you dare “my queen” me! You allowed this!” Bella told her and tugged on the chain.

  Hildevar looked down at the manacle and sighed.

  “I know you only wished to save me, and you did—but—I agree with the king.”

  “You are a traitor!” Bella snapped.

  “My queen, I don’t want the kingdom to suffer because I did not fulfill my duty in protecting you.”

  “So, this is all I am to you? Just some kind of charge you have to look after?”

  Hildevar’s face fell. “No, my queen--”

  Bella rolled her eyes and then stood, only to turn her back to Hildevar.

  Bella felt a hand touch her shoulder.

  “Bella,” Hildevar called out, and Bella turned to her, surprised.

  “I—you’re everything I never thought a queen could be! You are brave and outspoken and you care about people and not just about things!” Hildevar paced the room before sitting in a chair facing Bella.

  “You are frustrating and funny, and you give me hope that our world can be better. And I must

  admit--” Hildevar looked down at her hands. “It made me feel good to know that the queen of all our clans came to save me. ME! You made me feel as if I matter. And that is something I never thought a queen would do. I thought for sure Rogan would be married off to some sort of prickly princess who was spoilt and uncaring, but here you are--”

  “Yeah, here I am,” Bella remarked. “You didn’t seem so happy when I first got here.”

  “I--” Hildevar began and then stopped. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully and then leveled her gaze onto Bella’s. “I wasn’t, I admit that. I thought you were a handful. And you are. But you’ve given me something I never thought possible. You have made me believe in our wo
rld again. And that—my queen—is a good thing.”

  Bella nodded and was shocked when Hildevar rushed up and embraced her. Hildevar then abruptly stood and wiped away tears forming in her eyes.

  “I—I am sorry for doing that, my queen,” Hildevar said, and Bella shot her a smirk.

  “You really need to let loose. But don’t be sorry. That meant a lot to me. Thanks!”

  Hildevar nodded, hesitated a moment and then hurried off outside the tent.

  Bella tugged at the chain once more and then groaned. She sauntered over to the tray and looked over the fragrant food before reluctantly digging in.

  Bella was idly contemplating her escape when Alannah strode in, flocked by a bevy of women.

  They all looked at Bella with varying degrees of respect, awe and outright admiration. Bella heaved a sigh and then spoke, her tone resigned and heavy.

  “What is it, Alannah?” Bella queried, and Alannah came close to Bella.

  “Our king requests your presence at our merriment,” Alannah explained, and Bella groaned.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Alannah shot Bella a look. “Oh, come on! Not you, too! I thought you had my back, Alannah. But you’re just like everyone else. Choosing Rogan.”

  Alannah looked at Bella crossly and sucked her teeth. “My queen, I am happy that Rogan seeks to keep you alive. You are the only one who believes in my ability to be a handmaiden.”

  “Oh, please. You’re a great handmaiden. I just can’t believe you let me get tied up to this bed. What kind of friend are you?”

  Alannah seemed to bloom beneath Bella’s gaze. “Friend? You think of me as a—friend?!”

  Bella nodded absently as she continued to pull on the chain fruitlessly. Bella found herself once again enveloped in a tight embrace. Bella could barely breathe and made a sound as Alannah crushed her against her chest.

  Alannah realized what she was doing, and she stopped only to apologize profusely.

  “I am sorry, my queen!” she said and smoothed down her skirt.

  Bella took in a deep breath and then nodded. “It’s fine. Just try not to—smother me again.”

  Alannah nodded happily and bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet.

  The women all marched in, smiling and bowing. Bella nodded and let them attend to her. She let them lead her to an ornate bathroom on the other side of the tent. Bella was allowed a bit of privacy to finish up her ablutions, but soon the women were busily moving about, bathing her, dressing her and fixing up her hair.

  When she was dressed in a long warm gown, the women, including Cyndra and her sisters, came around and slipped a warm, thick fur over her shoulders.

  “Come, my queen,” Alannah indicated, and Bella followed the group outside, surprised that the chain stretched. Bella frowned as Hildevar came by and sat her next to Rogan. Bella bristled and refused to look at him, instead looking into the roaring fire in the center of the camp. The wagons had all been drawn into a circle, with the tents forming an inner circle around the fire. The flames crackled, sparked and pierced the frigid night air with its warmth and light.

  “It has been quite the night,” Rogan began, and Bella sucked her teeth and turned away.

  “You are still angry?” Rogan queried, his tone amused.

  “I am shackled like some sort of prisoner,” Bella said, and Rogan gave her a toothy grin.

  “You’re not a prisoner. What kind of prisoner wears fine robes and furs?” Rogan asked, and Bella snorted.

  “A prisoner by any other name is still a prisoner.”

  Rogan chuckled. “True. But it is for your own good, even if you do not believe it. These are dangerous parts. I can’t have my bride rushing off to certain death.”

  “Have you seen my old neighborhood? If I can handle that, I’m sure your Darklands are a walk in the park.”

  “If I have learned anything at all about Earth, it’s that you all do not have magical creatures that fly and want to eat you.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. He had a point. But she was still angry that she was shackled. It put a real cramp in her plans for getting home.

  “How long do I have to wear this?” Bella asked as a sharp wind whipped through the camp, causing her to shiver. Rogan pulled a thick comforter over them and pulled Bella close. She tried to struggle but was drawn to his warmth, resisting a happy sigh as his body heat wrapped around her, pushing out the intense cold.

  Rogan looked up at the night sky and studied it a moment. “A storm is coming,” he said, and Bella wanted to ask more, but he turned away and gazed about the camp, his face closed and brooding.

  After a while, everyone, including most of the servants, were seated near the huge fire. Music was streaming lightly from instruments, and Bella hummed along, her mind unable to fight the feeling of warmth and closeness and musical notes dancing on the air.

  Bella noticed that when she sang, tiny sparks ran the length of the camp and glowed for a moment before disappearing. Curious, she began to sing softly.

  The camp was soon enclosed in a warm glow, and the servants smiled cheerily, many beginning to dance. Rogan even began to clap as the musicians turned out a jaunty tune. Bella sang louder and told the story of a girl in love with a boy who didn’t love her back. The girl didn’t want anyone else and spent her life pining for the boy who married another girl. The story had a happy ending as the girl and boy fell in love in the afterlife. After Bella’s song, everyone clapped and celebrated.

  Rogan smirked and pulled Bella close once more. Bella didn’t resist and leaned into him. The music continued, and Bella felt her eyes grow heavy. The contrast of the intense warmth of Rogan, combined with the roar of the frigid winds, made her feel cozy and safe. She couldn’t imagine ever sitting in the middle of a deadly forest in another world and laying upon the man she would soon call husband due to an ancient promise. If someone had told her such a story weeks before, she would have called them insane.

  She could feel her eyes growing heavier with each moment that passed and soon found herself in a deep slumber. She awakened sometime later in her bed, wrapped in a pile of warm blankets, furs and pillows, with the sound of wind crashing all about her and someone breathing in her ear. She stretched and collided with a hard, muscular body. She stopped for a moment and then stretched once more; this time her hands made contact with a bare chest.

  She screeched and sat up. In the dim light, she could see that her companion was none other than Rogan himself. He groggily sat up and frowned.

  “What is it, wife? It is not even dawn.”

  “Wife?! You’re not my husband, you—you pervert! What are you doing in my bed?”

  “I think you are mistaken. All of this, including this bed, belongs to me. Ah,” Rogan snapped his fingers. “Perhaps that means you belong to me as well.”

  Bella snarled, “Nope. I am not a piece of furniture. I belong to no one except myself.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, in that case, I suggest you go find shelter elsewhere. I will stay here.”

  “Fine!”

  Bella marched angrily towards the tent flap and landed outside. The chain around her ankle stretched as she went out. Bella took a deep breath of freezing air and could barely see in front of her. A storm had come, and it seemed white-out conditions were in effect.

  Bella groaned and then turned around. She walked back stiffly and ignored Rogan’s smug smile. Instead, she grabbed a few pillows and began to separate the bed in half.

  “My side,” she indicated and then threw her hand out dismissively. “Your side is over there.”

  Rogan laughed heartily. “You do not think you could at least try to get comfortable with me, love? After all, I will be the father to your children someday.”

  Bella wrinkled her nose and frowned. “I doubt that.”

  “So you say,” Rogan smiled. “It is written.”

  The wind suddenly blew hard and the tent shook.

  “
Wow, what was that?” Bella said, looking up at the tent’s ceiling as it rippled.

  “A Darkland storm. They are notorious this time of year. We have to stay here for a few hours and then try traveling once the storm passes. Come to bed, my love,” Rogan teased, and Bella shook her head.

  “I thought you didn’t want this marriage?”

  Rogan stopped grinning, his face suddenly serious. “It’s not my choice, but I have to do what’s right for my people. It’s a cross all kings must bear. Besides that, you amuse me.”

  Bella threw a pillow at him. “I amuse you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you infuriate me.”

  “I’m sure.”

  The winds shook the tent once more, the howling sounding more like unearthly voices than a natural phenomenon.

  Rogan shot Bella a meaningful look as she shivered.

  “Is that--?”

  “Come close to me; this storm will test the limits of our magic. That is no ordinary wind or cold.”

  “I thought we were safe inside some sort of protection circle.”

  “We are, but the Darklands’ magic is formidable. I have traveling with us master spell casters who cut the runes that protect this camp. They also fortified the camp many times over so that the incident with the creatures that attacked us earlier would not happen again. I was cocky. I should have listened to my advisors when they suggested this from the beginning.”

  “And we are traveling through the Darklands because--”

  “It is the only way to get to my father. With his kingdom being bordered by the Darklands, an army would think twice about going through the forests, especially if they are not the strongest in magic.”

  “A brilliant strategy.”

  “It is. But it also limits the time I can visit each year. The journey is arduous.”

  “Are we close?”

  Rogan looked at her without blinking. “No.”

  “Shit.”

  The wind whistled around the tent and, to Bella’s ears, it sounded taunting, teasing even, as it pushed past the folds of the tent. Frigid air creeped around the heavy tent flaps that fell to the floor, and Bella shivered. She found herself cuddling deep into the blankets and sighed happily as the warmth covered her.