Spark of Desire (The Dragon's Virgin Tribute) by Madelene Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

it was the only weapon she had. She slid it between her breasts and deep into her bodice where it pressed uncomfortably against her skin.
    They led her out of the castle - through the great entry hall where it seemed like everyone was gathered around to see her off. Everyone curtseyed or knelt as she was ushered past.
    Her guards' hands were firm on either arm. With a grimace of irritation Faith shook them off, determined to walk with dignity, but they stayed close - close enough to grab her if she tried anything.
    She held her head high until they were out of the hall and the sunlight hit her face, making her squint.
    Her parents were not there.
    She didn't know the king well. He had never bothered getting to know his daughter, perhaps because of her eventual fate.
    Her mother, the queen, had come to her bedroom last night and kissed her. Her face was red as though she'd been crying. but the woman was stoic. She had told her daughter how proud she was of her and how important she was for the kingdom; for the people. How she must be brave and well behaved and everything would work out alright.
    She would never see either of them again.
    In front of the cheering crowd of common folk, Faith stepped up into the waiting carriage. She stared out at myriad passing faces as the carriage began to move.
    Perhaps the people expected her to smile and wave - but Faith didn't care. She was torn between the ever-present desire to please her mother, and her own paralyzing fear. The end result was a numb, mute compliance.
    ––––––––
    T hey traveled for a few hours, out into the countryside. The sky was beginning to color with the orange of dusk when the carriage pulled to a stop.
    Faith abruptly woke out of the doze she'd fallen into, lifting her head from her arm. Now that the moment had come, fear gripped her. Her heart started pounding, and she raised a hand to her chest where the secret knife was hidden.
    The guards' horses came to a stop. Soon two of the armored men opened the door. One offered his gloved hand to help her down.
    Struck with terror, she shrank back from the door. "Please... no." She said helplessly, shaking her head.
    "Your Highness, don't make me pull you out of there." The guard said. He was a man who's name she'd never been told, but he had always been pleasant enough to her. Now his face was twisted with regret - but also determined.
    She was aware of a guard coming to the door behind her, blocking off the other possible exit. She began to tremble. The kind guard's hand was still stretched out, waiting, but still she couldn't force herself to obey.
    With a sigh, the guard bent low and clambered over the seat, grabbing Faith by the wrist. She cried out as he pulled her toward him, unbalancing her until he could grip her other arm.
    He was strong, and had no trouble wrestling her from the carriage. Faith growled and cursed indignantly, to no avail, as he set her on her feet. One strong arm remained around her waist to stop her from running.
    She fumed silently - how dare he touch her like that? But sensing there was no hope of breaking away, she fell limp.
    She looked up, taking in the surroundings. They were halfway up a hill, at the place where the track ended. Above them, she could see the tall pole that jutted from the top of the hill. A shiver ran down her spine. This was the place where her forebears had been chained.
    The guards began to bind her hands tightly together with white silk cloth.
    "Stop, please!" She blurted. "I'll come quietly. There's no need to tie me."
    "Sorry, Highness," replied a guard, "it's tradition."
    Faith sighed, and suddenly became aware of the stinging in her eyes; the tears welling up and threatening to fall. She gritted her teeth and set her jaw, determined not to let these men see her cry.
    They bound her to the stake, her back against the pole. Her hands remained tied tightly together.
    None of them said goodbye to her, perhaps sensing they would only receive vehemence