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

celebrate her ascendance, and it was part of tradition. Tradition must be upheld. When the mother stone and other tribute arrived, would they build a bonfire even though there was no dress to burn?
    That settled one thing. She’d send the regalia back with the tribute. They’d certainly want the crown back. Yes, that way, everything would be just as it should be.
    Heartened, she looked to see what else was in her bag. A smaller bag contained soap, cloth, comb, brush, toothbrush and powder. She tried the comb in her hair, but the crown made it painful to comb anywhere.
    Three identical garments confused her until she realized that they were tiny pantalettes that would fit snugly and come down only inches on her thigh. She supposed that under the yellow, waist-high hose her full, loose undergarments would bump and bulge all over the place. Another reason not to wear the hose.
    She glanced over at the Dornaan, wondering what he wore under his shameless hose. Even active men of Saragond didn’t expose their legs above the knee. It was disgusting—but she had to make herself look away.
    Face hot, she dug out the remaining contents of her bag. Two . . . shifts? Too short to be shifts. They were a thin underbodice. She looked down at her chest and was confronted again by the two mounds shaped for Aurora’s munificence.
    She hated these clothes.
    She hated the ones he’d brought for her.
    And there were no spare stockings.
    She checked again, but no. Because she was supposed to wear those obscene hose.
    She looked at him again—he as good as naked in his formfitting clothes. Tall, slim hipped and broad shouldered. As graceful in repose as in movement. Her mouth dried and her skin tingled.
    He was too dark skinned, she told herself. He wore his hair like a woman’s and it was as faded as an old man’s.
    No, it wasn’t. It was almost beautiful.
    He wasn’t going to get away with ignoring her, whether it was the Dornaan way or not. She hitched the front of her skirt higher into the belt, then marched over to him. “When will we reach Dorn?”
    He turned to her. “In three days.”
    She stared. “
Three days?
”
    “Are you sure you don’t want to change?”
    “Of course I do, but you haven’t provided any suitable clothes.”
    He shrugged. “Then we should be on our way.” He returned to the bags.
    Rozlinda remembered. Walking. Rolling her eyes, she followed him. “What about the dragon?”
    “She’ll find us.” He picked up both bags and passed one to her.
    She looked from it to him. “You expect me to
carry
that?”
    “It’s not heavy.”
    To say that princesses did not carry bags would be true, but clearly irrelevant. She was no longer a princess. She was a Dornaan wife, which apparently meant beast of burden.
    So. This was the adventure she’d never been allowed to have and she would embrace it. She took the bag and got the strap over her shoulder. Then suddenly, she laughed.
    He looked a question at her.
    “I’m trying to imagine what I look like, princess gown billowing, crown sparkling, and booted and bagged like a wandering laborer. Onward, sir, to the Shield, to Dorn, and to my new life!”
    Simply to show him, she set off in the lead.

Chapter 5
    Rouar of the Dragon’s Womb followed his wife along a rough track, cursing fate. This was the only way, and he’d never expected it to be easy. But he’d never dreamed that he would
like
a princess of Saragond.
    She was soft, pampered and arrogant, but she was also brave, high-spirited and resilient. Even Seesee seemed drawn to her, and it couldn’t only be because of the special blood that pulsed in her veins. The blood that could save the dragons, and thus his world.
    “You’ll have to bear with me if I’m slow,” she said without turning her head. “An SVP’s life doesn’t involve much walking.”
    A statement of fact rather than a complaint.
    “SVP?” he asked.
    “Sacrificial Virgin Princess.”
    Shockingly accurate. “When Seesee’s