Chapter 7

Chapter7

Briar

It takes more courage than I’ll ever admit to strip down and utilize the gargantuan bathtub to warm up after the trip back from the spring. No one appears to take advantage of my nakedness, though, and I almost fall asleep cradled in the scalding warmth of the water.

At least until I hear someone moving about in the bedroom. I jerk up, fear thick in my throat. “Who’s there?”

“Aldis.” A brown dragon peeks her head into the bathroom. “I brought up human-approved food and got a fire going. It gets chilly at night this time of year.”

I sink deeper into the water. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that this isn’t Sol. “Oh. Thank you.”

She studies me for a long moment. “It’s a lot to take in. Don’t worry. Sol’s a grump, but he’ll be good to you.”

I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “If you say so.”

“Also, here’s a robe.” She ducks into the bathroom and drapes a long length of fabric over the hook near the sink. “We dragons are a bit larger than you, but it should work until we get some clothing tailored.”

It’s all too much. My brain feels fuzzy and slow. “Thank you,” I manage.

It’s hard to tell, but Aldis gives me what seems to be a kind expression. “We have some adjustments ahead of us. Please try to give Sol a bit of grace, and I’m sure he’ll do the same for you.” She’s gone before I can come up with a response to that.

It’s just as well. I’m exhausted and fresh out of grace.

Sol doesn’t cometo see me the next morning. Or the one after that. By the third day, I tell myself I’m relieved and not disappointed. Yes, that must be the source of the sinking sensation in my stomach. Relief.

Or maybe it’s boredom.

I’m nearly certain the rooms he gave me are actually his. It’s more than the large bed situated low on the floor, the mattress made of some material I don’t recognize. No, the thing that makes me certain these rooms are Sol’s are the little mementos tucked about.

The high table is scattered with books and papers written in a language I don’t understand. There are more books stacked haphazardly on shelves about the room, enough that I can’t help thinking about the old legends in my world about dragons and their hoards. I bet he has a proper library somewhere in this place. Not that it will do me any good. Apparently my new tattoo—a strange symbol inked in a deep red on my right shoulder blade—doesn’t extend its translation magic to the written word.

There is clothing as well, all Sol-sized and tailored for someone with, well, a tail. On the second day, Aldis returns to deliver a chest full of human clothing. She doesn’t linger this time, though. She ducks out of the room so fast, I’m still deciding if I want to try to strike up a conversation. I’m not sure where they got the clothing, but it fits perfectly.

On the third day, I tell myself I’m only wearing in the white dress with its empire waist and low neckline because it’s comfortable and makes me feel pretty. Not because of the way Sol stared at my breasts in the spring.

A knock on the door has my heartbeat picking up. In fear, not excitement. Surely. I cross my arms and say, “Come in.”

The person who walks through the door is not Sol. They’re not even a dragon. I stare at the crimson skin and the horns sprouting from their eye socket. A second set curls back from their temples. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my room?”

“Ramanu.” They press a black-clawed hand to their wide chest. They’re dressed much the same as Azazel was during the auction—black pants and a black tunic-type shirt that’s belted about the waist, all made of obviously expensive materials. “Azazel sent me to…take stock of the situation.”

They appear to be looking around the room, and I barely manage to stop from blurting out a question asking how when they don’t have eyes. Obviously some magic is involved. Still, I don’t like the mocking little smile pulling at the edges of their almost-human mouth. I draw myself up. “There’s no situation to take stock of.”

“Hmmm.” They step into the room and utter a soft laugh when I tense further. “You have nothing to fear from me. Even if Azazel wouldn’t skin me alive for touching one of his precious contracted humans, I like my playmates with a bit more…” Their smile turns into a full grin. “Spice.”

I don’t know if they mean that figuratively or literally, and I’m not about to ask. If this is who Azazel is sending to check up on people… I shudder. “As I said, there’s no situation to take stock of.”

“Now, that’s interesting.” They meander about the room, taking up too much space. They’re shorter than Sol by a good six inches even with the horns, but I keep expecting their horns to scrape on the ceiling. “Fascinating that the blessed dragon leader has already managed to scare off his human bride.”

I just met this demon, and I barely know Sol at all, but that doesn’t stop me from firing back, “He’s a gentleman. He hasn’t done a single thing wrong.” I don’t know why I’m defending him. Maybe he eats puppies in his free time. Do they even have puppies in this realm?

“A gentleman.” They laugh. “He is, that.” They move to the door and cast a look over their shoulder. Or at least I think they do. “Come along, little bride. Let’s find your wayward dragon husband.”

Nothing good can come of this. Obviously Ramanu wants to stir the pot; they haven’t exactly been a sympathetic ear in the short time they’ve been in my presence, and, beyond that, there is obviously tension between Azazel and the other leaders.

Still, I’m curious, and I’ve been cooped up for days. Sol never came to see me. Wandering the keep with a demon at my side isn’t exactly peaceful, but surely it’s better than wandering about alone?

I’m hurrying after Ramanu before I can think of a good reason not to. They stride through the halls with an easy confidence, and I honestly can’t tell if they’re faking it or if they know where they’re going. They did find my room, though. Maybe they’ve been here before.

We go down a set of stairs and through a series of halls that look out into the garden. Again, I’m tempted to stop and stare and soak up the atmosphere that comes from the trees and flowers. Sol’s bedroom has an interior window overlooking the private park—I’m not sure what else to call it, because garden doesn’t feel like it encompasses the feeling—which is the only reason I’ve lasted in the room as long as I have.

It’s been…peaceful. But too much peace has boredom closing in.

Ramanu’s long strides have me half skipping to keep up. I’m about to snap at them to slow down when they stop in front of a door that looks just like every other one we’ve passed up to this point. They give me another of those unsettling grins, and then they throw open the door.

I make it one step through the door and stop short. A library. It stretches up two floors, lined with more books than I can comprehend, the walls curving backward into shadows, giving the impression of a truly massive room.

A dragon hoard.

While I’m staring in awe, Ramanu has tossed their large body into an overstuffed chair, one of half a dozen varied pieces of furniture arranged in a cozy little sitting area off to the side of the door. I wander closer to them, still trying to take in the sheer size of the room.

They tilt back their head and bellow, “I know you’re in here, dragon. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

“Goddess damn it, Ramanu. Who let you in here?” Sol steps out from between two stacks and stops short. “Briar.”

“Someone’s been neglecting their pretty little bride.” They reach over and catch the hem of my dress where it brushes just below my knee. I don’t miss the fact that they don’t actually touch my skin, but I can only guess what it must look like from where Sol’s standing.

A dangerous hissing sound fills the room. “Take your hand off her.”

“You’re not touching her. Why shouldn’t I?”

I don’t know why Ramanu is baiting Sol, but I don’t like it. I step back and swat at their hand. “That’s enough.”

They turn that strange horned face in my direction. “You really are perfect for each other. Neither one of you has a sense of humor.” They glance back at Sol. “If she dies from neglect, that’s still harm.”

The dragon huffs out a breath. His crest flares, and the hissing sound deepens. “Get out.”

Ramanu chuckles as they stand. “All this effort, all this risk, and you’re mishandling the situation. I can’t pretend I’m even a little surprised.” They meander toward the door. “I’ll be around at some point to check on her. Maybe you’ll have stopped being a coward by then.”

Then they’re gone, leaving a growing awkward silence in their wake.

The temptation to flee the room is strong, but I remember Sol’s words from when he took me to the spring. If you run, I’ll chase you. That possibility should fill me with fear, and I won’t pretend there’s not a thread of it present. But it’s not the dominant emotion. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’d promised myself that if—when—I escaped my marriage, I would be cautious and careful and do whatever it took to never repeat history.

Now, here I stand, wondering what it would be like for Sol to chase me, to pounce on me, to…

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they intended to bait you, or I wouldn’t have come with them.”

“Ramanu is one of Azazel’s most challenging people.” Sol snorts, and I imagine I can feel the hot air of it despite the distance between us. He hefts the book in his hand and starts moving toward me in a way that’s almost reluctant. “I think that’s why he delights in sending them here any chance he gets.”

“Why did you do it?” This time, I manage not to clap my hands over my mouth after I blurt out the question, but it’s a near thing. “You took a great risk bargaining with him. What if I fall down the stairs and snap my neck?”

His crest flares again, though his voice is even. “Would you like me to move you to the ground floor?”

“What? No. That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” I lift my hands and let them drop to my sides. Why would he confide in me? He doesn’t know me at all. “I just want to understand.”

Sol sinks onto a deep chair and curls his tail around to make room. I stare. I hadn’t realized it was prehensile. There is absolutely no reason for that knowledge to send a surge of heat through my body. What is wrong with me?

For his part, he doesn’t seem to notice how he’s affecting me. He leans back and drops the book on the cushion next to him. “There was a time when the realms—mortal, demon, divine—were closer together. Or easier to cross.” He looks away, dark eyes going thoughtful. “There are a lot of theories why that changed, and no one quite knows for sure what happened. Obviously humans used to be here in greater numbers.” He motions to himself, to his humanoid body.

That makes sense in a strange sort of way. There are tales across many cultures about people stepping into fairy circles or answering strange voices calling in the night and never being seen again. It’s not so hard to believe they crossed into a different realm, especially considering where I’m standing right now.

But knowing that still doesn’t explain why Sol risked his entire kingdom for a human bride. Especially when he’s obviously avoiding said bride.

“Did Ramanu frighten you?” He studies me intently. “I won’t pretend they’re harmless, because they’re more assuredly not, but Azazel’s contracts are good. Ramanu won’t hurt you.”

Honestly, after I got over the eye horns, Ramanu is more infuriating than anything else, but I find myself nodding. “Yes, they frightened me.” What are you doing? I ignore the very reasonable voice in my head and press forward. “Would you… Could…” I drag in a breath. “Could I sit with you until I calm down?”