Dragon and the Princess by Jo Beverley Read Free Book Online Page A

knot worse and worse as she accepted that she couldn’t walk home, anyway.
    Even if the Dornaan allowed it, it was too far.
    Even if she made it there, her people would send her back.
    Even if they didn’t, the pattern would remain broken. No tribute would be sent. Aurora’s baby would die in her womb. No woman of the blood, including herself, would ever bear a live child. And there would probably be war.
    She was simply sitting there, misery a rock in her heart, when he knelt beside her, a sharp knife in his hand. “You would permit me to cut your ribbons?”
    She almost felt as if she’d permit him to cut her throat.
    “Very well.”
    He slid his fingers beneath the ribbon, a warm contact she wasn’t prepared for, and the knife parted the silk as if it were air.
    He pulled off the dirty slipper, then did the same with the other one. He kept hold of that foot, brushed off some dust, and pushed on the boot.
    “It’s a perfect fit,” she said, wriggling her toes.
    “The cobbler who makes the royal shoes provided the measurements.”
    She considered that as he slid on the other boot. It had been obvious that today’s events had been carefully planned, but it startled her to learn that the Dornae had been making arrangements within Saragond.
    In fact, it frightened her. What else did they get up to, sneaking around? And if they were able to sneak around, they couldn’t all look like him. She was churning with alarm, but with excitement, too. She might be the first Saragondan to explore Dorn. Might she be able to find ways to create harmony between the two peoples? She could keep a journal and one day write a book.
    He was still kneeling, looking at her as if he’d like to read her mind.
    “Thank you,” she said, rising to try the boots, revived by purpose. But then a gust of wind caught her hair, tugging at her crown again. “Now take off my veil.”
    He rose. “Rozlinda, I don’t take orders. A
pray thee
will sweeten it.”
    “
Pray thee
, then, Sir Rouar, take off my veil.”
    A brow twitched at her tone, but he bowed, hand to the dragon-eye stone on his chest, and walked to her back. He released the veil from its many hooks, and managed it with little pain. Then he tugged at the crown.
    She clutched and yelled, “Don’t! It’s glued on.”
    “Whatever for?”
    “How else would it stay on?”
    He came round to face her. “You have to wear it forever?”
    “Of course not. Until the glue can be washed out with hot water. Which, I assume, is not available.”
    “Not here, no. Again, my apologies.”
    The words were polite, but he looked as if he thought all Saragondans idiots. He put the veil in her hands and walked away. With no purpose that she could see, he simply moved to stand a few rooms’ lengths away from her. Was this some requirement of Dornaan propriety, or blatant rudeness?
    Oh, she hated this! If nothing else, she’d always been certain of the correct thing to do and say in every situation. She was expert at reading nuances of behavior, but he was an enigma.
    And only look at the veil. In meant nothing to her, but she had so few possessions that its state could break her heart. One end was heavy with dragon goop, most of it was streaked with green dust and there was even the smear of her blood from the ritual that now seemed so long ago.
    She couldn’t bear to throw it away, but it was too messy to put in the bag. With a shrug, she tied it around her waist like a bulky sash, which reminded her of the bunched-up skirt beneath the bodice, and the breast cups stuffed with silk.
    Had it only been this afternoon that she’d dressed? Only hours since she’d approached the Dragon’s Rock, expecting giving some blood to be the full extent of her sacrifice? If all had gone as it should, she’d be back home now, enjoying a leisurely bath before the Princess Ball. She gazed sadly in the direction she thought home might be.
    Would they still hold the ball? It wouldn’t be fair to Izzy not to