“My lady, why aren’t you dressed yet?” Jacqueline, one of the maids, came rushing into my bedchamber. She threw back the curtains surrounding my canopy bed before moving on to the ones covering the window. I often wondered how she moved so quickly. “Up, up, up, my lady!” She made an up motion with her hands as she began digging through my trunks to find the dress she wanted to put me in.

I wiped the drool away from the corner of my lip as I sat up. I picked his letter off of my nightstand, running my thumb over the royal seal as I wondered what he looked like now. Jacques always had a boyish appearance about him, round cheeks and a constant flush on them. His floppy hair never stayed in one place and it was a miracle if he would let someone on his staff brush it.

“Miss! You have to get dressed! The prince was coming through the gates minutes ago. You have to be there to greet him!”

I’d never seen Jacqueline so flustered so I quickly stuffed the letter under my pillow and allowed her to dress me. She chose a surprising dress for my reintroduction to the prince. It was a bright yellow, the color of the Dannamorian flag, and a large slit along my right leg. It plunged halfway down my back before sweeping into a long train. I peered at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t unfamiliar with dressing this way as most in Dannamore do. However, when officials from the mainland visited we often covered up more. I couldn’t tell if Jacqueline was making a political statement or playing matchmaker.

She rushed through my hair, didn’t bother with makeup, and pushed me through the door in record time. I nearly ran through the halls of nightwell to make it to the receiving courtyard. It was reserved for official visits only but the landscapers and gardeners always kept it pristine for surprise visits. Father stood next to Samson with Clarissa and Leighton behind them. The upper staff formed another line behind them. I took my spot next to Father as Jacques came in through the main gate.

He stood tall on his white horse. The morning light created his hair to shine an auburn orange before coming down to reflect the red ruby in his sword hilt. One hand held the reins while his other was wrapped at his side like I remembered. I’d heard he was a master swordsman but I couldn’t quite believe it. I only wanted to see the kid I played with.

Clarissa and I dipped down into a deep curtsy while the men bowed from the waist. I closed my eyes, listening as I heard his boots crunch against the ground before stopping not in front of father, but in front of me.

“Lady Loch,” Jacques said.

“Your Royal Highness,” I replied, not coming up from my curtsy.

“You may all rise.”

We did as we were commanded. Jacques and I locked eyes but they weren’t the same. Gone were the days of youth replaced with the violence of war. I’d seen it with my brothers but I never imagined to see it in the prince.

Father smiled at Jacques, reaching for his hand. Jacques took Father’s hand in his own, a smile on his own face, “Your Grace, it is wonderful to see you. It has been far too long.”

“Your letters have given me great comfort, Your Highness.” I hadn’t seen Father this jovial in a long time.

“As have yours. Let us all go inside. I don’t want to keep you all out here in the heat for too long. However, I have missed the sunshine.” Jacques’s laughter was like a bottle of honey. Sweet and languid. He turned to me as Samson led Father away, offering me his arm. I didn’t reject Jacques and linked our arms together. He smelled like a campfire and dirt, two things I never expected.

“So are you mad at me?” Jacques asked. He was relaxed while I stood rigid.

“I’m not sure I understand, Your Highness.”

“Lady Loch,-”

“Ava, please. You know how I feel about formalities.” I cut him off too quickly, I knew it.

“Thank the gods.” He breathed before stealing a glance down at me. I wasn’t short by any means, but I was sure he would have to be on his knees to be my height. I used to be the taller one. “I’m not mad at you,” I finished.

“I would hate myself for making you upset especially when we’re beginning again under new circumstances. I know you would have never wanted this for yourself.” He said.

“Yes,” I began, pausing before deciding carefully about my next words, “You’re correct. I only care about making sure a Loch stays in power. Once Father is gone, well I don’t want to imagine what Clarissa and Leighton are planning. If I had a less powerful husband, then I don’t want to think about it.” The word husband burned against my tongue.

“Thank you for being so candid.” Jacques replied.

We trailed behind everyone else, growing silent as we moved towards the main dining room. It was nearly time for breakfast and I wanted nothing more than a bowl of strawberries. Samson sat Father at the head of the table before going to his post by the door, then Jacques and I sat to his left with Clarissa and Leighton directly across. The servants brought out more food for the five of us than I’d ever seen on a normal day. However, they knew to bring me one bowl of strawberries with sugar and forgo serving me anything else.

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Jacques and I shared an amused glance as I bit into my first one. I raised an eyebrow, asking him, “What?”

“Glad to know one thing hasn’t changed.” His voice raised barely above a whisper and for a moment I wanted to see him as more than the fourteen year old boy who I desperately wanted to love.

The young prince never strayed from my side in the days following his arrival. We didn’t speak to each other but instead found a steady rhythm within each other’s company. I often wondered if the burden of being the future king weighed on his shoulders or if his education, training, and courtly attributes took the weight away. Titles found their way into our thoughts most days. If we spoke, it was about what we were going to do together. Even if together was still a foreign and strange concept.

Jacques sat beside me now, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck as his eyes strained to see the distant boats out in the bay. Yellow rays poured down on us, the sweltering heat of a dying summer. I was used to the heat but it was clear my friend was not as he undid a few buttons on his collar, allowing for the breeze to sweep against his pale skin. I could already see a few more freckles beginning to appear on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not one of your books, Ava.” Jacques granted me a smile as he jokingly threw sand onto my dress. All formalities were gone as we sat alone in the sand, but neither of our guards were hard to spot on the rocks behind us.

Throwing a small shell in his direction, I said, “At least I know how to read, Your Highness.” He was distracting me from thinking about the engagement ball. I’d told him how uncomfortable I felt at the idea. Nobles from all over were beginning to arrive and I couldn’t stand the thought of Father having to pretend for them. Only those in our inner circle knew the extent of his illness.

Jacques glanced at me with a pointed look before his gaze returned to the calm bay. His arm was still cradled to his side. When we were children, young boys who were now lords or dead, would ask him questions about his arm as if they couldn’t understand. I knew what they were doing and I think that’s why Jacques begged to be trained. However, I never thought he would be the master he was today.

“Will you return to the front?” My words hardly register with me before they leave my mouth. It had been a common thought on my mind. I didn’t know the extent of his stay with Prince Luca or how long he contributed to the many battles to our direct north, but I often thought about what would happen if he died. Lyier would be left vulnerable and I would be left with a target on my back.

He doesn’t turn his head to look at me but I can hear his breath hitch at my question. If he decides to lie, I wouldn’t know it. He’s a Marat and their specialty are lies. Shifting in the sand, he sits up a little straighter but the air is still silent. I realize he doesn’t want to lie to me.

“Eventually,” is all he says.

Silence settles between us as we both gaze out into the bay. My eyes spot a storm in the distance but it moves away from us so as to not disturb the people of Dannamore.

“How soon will we be married?” It’s the one question I haven’t dared to ask and one he hasn’t wanted to bring up.

“Within the month. It has to be before my coronation.”

I nod my understanding as a dark shadow blocks out the sun above us. I look up seeing both Shajurn and Nesbith together. They begin their descent and land not too far from where we’re sitting. It had been nearly a week since I’d seen Shajurn. I’m sure he could sense my distress through our bond but I wondered about Nesbith’s appearance. Lillianna would surely be missing her.

Jacques jumped away in surprise and I realized this may be the first time he’s seeing a dragon, or like most at court, he only assumed the rumors about my dragons were false. I quicken my pace as I reach for Shajurn. He dips his head low so I can rub his snout and I no longer hide my smile. Our energies hum together and my skin begins to crackle like static.

I’ve missed you, Shajurn’s voice softly breaks through my mental barrier.

“And I’ve missed you.” We stand together a moment longer before I bow my head to Nesbith in respect. “Pleasure as always, Nesbith, but I figured you would be in Montcroix.”

No, we decided to come to Dannamore as it reached us that you’re marrying the prince of Lyier. Her words aren’t accusing me of anything but I also sense their distrust. Nesbith and I haven’t always gotten along. She believes my family sold our souls to the king of lyier to have our higher standing in society and I can’t exactly disagree with her, however, Jacques will be a different king than his father.

Finally, Jacques makes his way to my side awestruck by the beasts before us. He doesn’t say anything, instead he takes in the sheer magnitude of their size and power. I know he can sense the energy radiating off of Shajurn and I. It’s a side-effect of the bond we share, a bond so rare we were surprised when it happened.

“I wasn’t aware of the engagement until yesterday. If I would have known your whereabouts I would have sent someone to tell you both.” I reply.

“Beautiful,” Jacques mumbles to himself as he makes a move to reach Nesbith. I quickly slap his hand away as her eyes narrow and she lowers herself to his height. She expands her wings to their full length and her scales radiate heat. I know she would take her chances with an impromptu execution.

Nesbith, now is not the time, I say to her. Our link is weak and it isn’t easy to communicate with her on my end. I attribute it to our rough beginnings. She didn’t want to be trained and I was only a child when she came to us. The large female left her marks down my left arm and majority of my side. I was in a coma for weeks before I finally woke up.

Nesbith flicked her eyes between myself and Jacques who was now using me as a shield, however, if she decided she wanted to truly harm us then I knew she would. Eventually, she stepped away and took off to the skies into the direction of Montcroix. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I pulled Jacques out from behind me. I took his hand and directed it to Shajurn’s side as a way to allow him to feel the scales. Shajurn, I knew, would be more patient than his friend.

He better learn quickly not to mess with Nesbith if he’s going to be your husband, Shajurn says.

I stifle my laughter because I don’t want to explain how I speak to Shajurn at this moment. Jacques would probably not even believe me. He’s been off killing the same people who worship my friends, who would be riders like me if not for the laws and wars. It’s hard to see the two people as one. The same man who just regarded Nesbith as beautiful is not the same man who cuts down innocents.