4. Chapter Four
My fingertips tapped angrily against the arm of my chair, and my other fingers pressed against my temple. The agony of hearing this woman talk.
"I'm so disappointed in you," my mother said, tipping another spoonful of sugar into her coffee. "The Dragon Prince prefers blondes. I knew I should have checked the invitations one final time before having them printed."
The corner of my mouth tugged into a grin. "Well, sue me for knowing what I want, Mother."
She put her teacup down dramatically. "Now how are the brunettes and redheads going to feel, Dorran? Hmm? You're going to have half of the kingdom bleaching their hair blonde."
Chuckling, I snagged a piece of bacon that Glendora put down for us. "Thanks, Dora," I said.
"You know I was a blonde in my day," she said, winking at me.
Glendora was our cook and had been since I was a small child. "I remember those days. Where do you think I gained my preference?"
"Knock it off," Mother said. "Neither of you are taking this seriously."
I sighed and hurried to eat my food so I could leave the table. I had plans to do some digging on my little blonde friend from the bridge.
"I already agreed to this stupid ball, you can't expect me not to put my preferences out there for the kingdom to see. It'll eliminate a lot of time with just the blondes—,"
Mother stood up, placed her teacup in the sink, and left the room. Thankfully.
Dora pinched my cheek. She was the only human allowed regularly in the castle. For most, it was for safety purposes, because being around a hot-tempered dragon could land you with no hair, or third-degree burns.
"I liked your little note, but I do think she's right, there will be many girls with blonde hair showing up on Friday."
I was only worried about one girl ...
Speaking of.
Finishing my plate, I walked toward the stairs and the bridge. I knew I could get to her house easier that way, and I could avoid the slew of dragons and women in the courtyard.
The guards stood to attention when I stepped out onto the bridge. "Don't worry, my mother isn't coming."
A few of them snickered, and the newbies kept a straight face. "Listen," I said, stopping to glance over my shoulder. "If my mother comes asking for me—like I'm a fifteen-year-old—just tell her I'm spreading my wings?"
"Yes, Sir."
I followed the bridge down toward her house, leaping to her rooftop; I crouched down beside her window and glanced inside.
It was empty.
She probably had a life unlike A Dragon Prince, whose life consisted of waiting to marry and take over the kingdom. I could follow her scent, but going down into the courtyard would be risky.
It depended on the amount of females out for the day.
I could get stuck in the middle of a group of dragons, or groped by the confident ones. Not being in the mood for a possible sexual harassment charge, I bent down, with a little force, popped open her window, and stepped inside.
Her scent nearly knocked me down.
It was mild but called to my dragon.
He stirred within me, something he rarely did. He was more unimpressed than I was daily. Asshole came to mind when I thought of my dragon.
This scent called to him. A scent he wanted to remember. A scent of a mate.
The tiny twin-sized bed was made with even corners and a perfectly fluffed pillow. The little mouse looked like someone who kept her things tidy. Walking into the tiny space of her room, which was too small for me, I stepped on a board, and it squeaked beneath me.
Bending down, I hooked my finger into a hole and lifted it. There sat her laptop. Odd that she hid it. Panic surfaced. Maybe I was lusting after a kid.
"Dammit, Dorran," I mumbled, standing up, I began rifling through her drawers. There had to be something about her age somewhere. "You child molester."
Finally, I found her high school diploma hiding in a small bookshelf on a wall in her closet.
Amara Marie Tremaine. 2016.
Amara, it fit her. She was twenty-five years old. Sighing, I laughed at myself, but it raised too many more questions for me. Why was a twenty-five-year-old living in an attic, and sneaking out like a teenager?
Biting my lip, I slipped the diploma back into its spot. I could find out the dynamics of her household. Maybe she enjoyed the privacy, but I doubted it. Her mother looked protective.
Or cruel.
There weren't many personal items like décor in her room. The only thing I saw that seemed aimed toward a hobby was a scaled mannequin that looked like it was on its last leg.
A scream came from downstairs.
"Mother! It's a ball at the castle! The Dragon Prince is looking for a mate!"
There was more screaming, but I knew it wasn't her. It wasn't her voice. Walking toward her window, I slipped out and onto the rooftop, giving her room another glance to make sure I was leaving it as I found it.
Every woman needed to attend the ball, but something told me that it might not happen for her. It was a hunch. I had to make sure she made it.
Stalking toward the bridge, I grew restless; my wings burst from their prison and flew off her roof and toward the front doors of the castle. A few people gasped as I landed in the middle of the steps and ran up them.
The guards opened the doors, letting me inside a busy house. There were designers everywhere getting ready for the ball at the end of the week. Our usual crew of workers darting around the castle.
My father sat in his study, a cigar hanging out of his mouth. I never understood his need for it, but he stayed out of my hair and I would do the same for him.
"Father."
He half-glanced up from his newspaper. The paper was news from the neighboring kingdom, and he seemed to enjoy their troubles more than he should.
"Son?" he asked casually.
"How will we know that every woman will attend?'
"Because it's on the invitation."
"But how do you know everyone will obey?"
He glanced up, swinging his size eighteen feet to the floor. "Why? Do you think people are disobeying our laws, son?"
I needed a legit reason to get him to make an announcement. He'd had everyone do everything for him for so long that anything extra was too big of a workout for him.
"I don't know. I overheard some dragons saying they weren't sure they could make it."
He huffed. "And miss a chance to become A Dragon Queen? Piss on them," he mumbled, leaning back against his chair.
I inwardly groaned. "I also heard that some dragons were worried about the East Kingdom attending. They think there may be a fight."
He sat back up, putting out his cigar on the newspaper, and glaring at me with concern. "Well, I'll put an end to that right this second."
Dad marched out of his office toward the front steps of the castle. I walked casually behind him, smiling at how easily my father was manipulated.
He swung the castle doors open, his wings spanning wide as he descended the first step and stopped in between the guards. "Attention," he boomed to the courtyard.
Everyone stilled.
My mother came running from inside the castle and stopped with wide eyes beside me. I shrugged as if I didn't know what was happening.
"I'd like to announce the ball this Friday. Every eligible woman in this kingdom must show up. Human or Dragon. If I find out that one woman didn't attend without reasonable cause, I will make certain they pay the price. Dorran wants every possible choice in making someone his queen. Tell everyone you know, because I'd hate for anyone to get left out. As for the rumors of fights breaking out with the East Kingdom. The people of my kingdom will always be safe, and I don't want to hear anything else about it."
I could almost see the huge question marks sitting above each person's face. "Now," Dad said. "On with it."
He turned and walked past me, and I poked my head through the closing doors. In the corner of the courtyard, I noticed the girl from the rooftop with Amara.
She was craning her neck to see inside.
When her gaze caught mine, I pointed at her with two fingers, and she hurried into the crowd.
I chuckled.
She'd make sure that Amara knew I wanted every woman there.
Now, I needed to go buy a new scaled mannequin for Amara's room. I couldn't have my date for the ball learning to sew with a mannequin older than my mother.