I waited until his steps crunched down the path. I had a lot of work to do, and didn’t want any more distractions. Arrayed on dressmakers’ dummies in front of me were not one or two, but three gowns.
Or at least the remnants of them.
There was Marta’s remade gown, covered with pinkish baby dragon goo that had dried nasty and stiff. There was the bodice of my original wedding gown. The skirts had been ruined, but the bodice had survived with only a little crumpling of the heavy silk.
And there was the gold gown.
Quite possibly the finest gown I had ever made, finer even than my wedding gown, it was reworked from a castoff of Princess Amalia’s, the gold velvet and satin almost entirely covered with my richest embroidery. On the heavy overskirts were images of stained glass windows telling the story of the Maiden Irial and her beloved dragon companion, Zalthus. On the bodice and down the sleeves there was red and blue and green embroidery in abstract patterns. In its last incarnation, for Miles and Isla’s wedding, I had replaced the gold satin underskirts with blue silk, the memory of which had given me an idea. And the bodice, really, for all its fine work, was nothing when compared with the glory of the skirts. The gold gown had been a gift for Gala in order to rid myself of the apparently cursed garment, but when I told her of my dire need she had graciously handed it back. I promised her that I would return it after the wedding, although it might be altered somewhat.
Somewhat.
Brides married before the Triunity in Feravel were supposed to wear white from the skin out. But we weren’t in Feravel, and I was being married before a thousand or more dragons.
Their hushed voices were not reassuring.
Alle had covered the mirror while she and Marta got me dressed and did my hair, and now I took a deliberate step toward it. The wedding would start any minute, and I had to see.
“No, let me,” Marta said softly. She whipped aside the long shawl that obscured the glass.
Rice powder had been brushed on my face, lightly, to make my freckles less prominent, and coral paint applied to my lips. My hair was braided with strands of creamy white pearls (a gift from Isla) and wrapped around my head like a crown. Around my throat was a white satin ribbon with a golden dragon brooch (a gift from Luka) pinned to it.
The bodice of my original wedding gown was silk, embroidered with shimmering white threads in patterns that looked abstract at first glance. Close up, though, they were the entwined figures of dragons. It had a stiffened collar, about half a hand wide, to frame my neck, and was cut daringly low. The sleeves were tight to the elbow and then flared over my forearms. They stopped short of the wrist, to show off the pearl bracelets that had been Miles’s gift.
I had sewn the gold overskirt to the white bodice. It was split, front and back, and beneath it I had sewn in the white silk underskirts from Marta’s gown. Hagen had bored a small hole in the lumpy glass flower Shardas had made for me, and I had sewn it to the waist of the gown, right where the gold overskirts split. The gold velvet, with its rainbow of embroidery, stood out starkly against the white silk of the rest of the gown.
Even I had to admit: I looked magnificent.
“No bride in Feravel has ever looked as marvelous, or ever will again,” Marta said in a hushed voice. “And other than the dragons there are only a dozen people to see it!” Her voice rose to a wail at this.
Alle and I just laughed at her, and then it was time to begin. Miles came to fetch us, and I watched his expression as Marta opened the door to reveal me in all my glory. He was dumbstruck, and then a grin took over his face.
“So beautiful!” He kissed me carefully on the cheek. “Are you ready?”
“I suppose I am,” I said.
Luka and Tobin met us at the foot of the path. Their eyes widened when they saw me, and Luka whistled. Luka and I kissed as he took my arm. We waited there together, breathing nervously, while our friends and family preceded us down the beach to the place marked for the ceremony. I couldn’t really see anything: there were so many dragons gathered there. But they had left an aisle for us, and a rich, narrow carpet had been laid over the sand so that we wouldn’t stumble.
There were no musicians, but the dragons hummed low. Clutching each other’s hands tightly, Luka and I made our way down the long, carpeted aisle between rows of staring dragons. At the front of the gathering were the humans: Hagen and the Mordrels, Miles and Isla, Tobin and Ulfrid. Marta and Alle were to stand ready behind me, to fan me if I became faint and to pass me Luka’s rings when the time came.
Just behind them were Shardas and Velika, using their tails to confine their day-old children. Shardas lowered his muzzle, and I stroked it with the hand that wasn’t clutching Luka’s.
As an alchemist, Leontes had the authority to marry us as long as we registered the marriage with a priest of the Triunity within the next six months. We simply wouldn’t tell anyone that this particular alchemist was a dragon. Leontes cleared his throat, and I turned to face him.
And saw the altar he stood beside.
It was a three-tiered Triune altar made of scarlet and gold glass, only slightly lopsided. I looked over my shoulder at Shardas, who winked at me.
“One shouldn’t break all the traditions at once,” he rumbled.
I winked back, and gave my attention to Leontes.
He didn’t talk about duty and responsibility, as a priest would have. He talked about love, and respect, and caring for each other always. Luka and I slipped rings onto each other’s right hands: one on the third finger to symbolize fidelity, one on the fourth to symbolize love.
Then we kissed, and Leontes bowed, and Velika stepped forward. She spread her wings over us like a canopy, and blessed us as only the queen of the dragons could: that we would have long life, and prosperity, and children to bring us joy.
Then we kissed again, and everyone cheered, and the banquet began. As we danced later, under the two moons and the sparkling stars, I thought that I had never had a more perfect day.
“You see,” Luka breathed in my ear, “that dress is not cursed.”
“I just needed to find the right time to wear it,” I said, laying my head on his shoulder.
“The right person to wear it with,” he corrected me.
We became aware of a dragon staring at us.
“Hello!” Feniul grinned at us. Ruli was sleeping on top of his head, and Pippin yawned delicately from between his foreclaws. “Would you like to see your surprise now?”
Butterflies began a furious twirl in my stomach. “I suppose so.” I felt a sudden dampness on Luka’s palms.
“Feniul,” Shardas said, overhearing, “I said
I
wanted to take them.”
“But that I could come,” Feniul reminded his cousin.
“Very well.”
We said our good-byes to our family and friends; then we got on Shardas’s back, and with Feniul following, flew to the eastern side of the island.
A little house gleamed in the moonlight, set perfectly on the shore of a peaceful lagoon. The walls were made of beautifully carved stone, and the roof was of shining multicolored glass.
“I wish you every happiness in the world, Creel,” Shardas said as he set us down. “You deserve it.”
“As do you,” I said, hugging his neck as best I could.
“My life has never held more joy,” he told me in his deep, rocky voice.
“Nor has mine,” I agreed, and let Luka lead me into our little cottage on the shore of the dragons’ home.
Y
ou look radiant,” Isla told me as I slid down off my horse in the courtyard of the New Palace.
“So do you,” I said slyly.
She blushed and put one hand over her stomach in an unconscious gesture. Miles came forward to give me a hug, blushing as well.
“Now remember,” Miles whispered as Luka dismounted and joined us. “We kept our promise: no one knows about the wedding in the Far Isles. So I hope you’re ready to do it all over again, only this time with a thousand
human
guests and a regular priest!”
“We told everyone that we had gone to my home in Dranvel to see the sheep festival,” Isla said.
“Oh, yes, it will all be wonderful!” I said, with an airy wave of my hand.
It hardly mattered now. Luka and I were married, and the people and dragons most important to us had been there. We had spent the last six weeks lounging in the Far Isles, playing with Velika and Shardas’s hatchlings, as well as Amacarin and Gala’s, who had hatched while we were rescuing Velika. I had had Marta and Alle send me back some white satin when they returned to the King’s Seat, and had nearly finished stitching yet another wedding gown. This one was very simple, but rather elegant, and Luka was teasing me that I would put myself out of business by starting a fashion for embroidery-less gowns.
Now I could stand easily in my pure, white dress and smile while King Caxel glared away.
“But what’s taking up most of Father’s time is the trade negotiations,” Miles said with a mysterious smile.
“What trade negotiations?” Luka glanced at the main doors of the palace, where news of our arrival was bringing a slew of servants and would no doubt soon rouse the king himself, despite the early hour.
“It seems that Moralienin traders are bringing some very interesting things to market,” Miles said.
“Like exotic pet birds,” Isla said with a giggle.
“Strange fruits, and scented woods,” Miles added. “It’s sparked some heavy trading among the Citatians as well, and the Roulaini. Merchants are sailing night and day, and Father wants a piece of the profits.”
“Does he realize where these things are coming from?”
I felt a flutter of anxiety in my stomach. I had seen some of the dragons heading out toward the Moralienin trade routes with baskets on their backs, but hadn’t wanted to interfere. I still thought it was too soon for the dragons to reveal the varieties available in the Far Isles.
“It’s the worst-kept secret in the world,” Isla said, rolling her eyes. “The Moralienin are calling the birds ‘dragon-birds,’ and half the fruits are named something like ‘dragon-melons’ or ‘dragoneye berries.’ But His Majesty has apparently decided to ignore that, and is making arrangements with Tobin to have the first pick of his clan’s shipments.”
I let out a small moan. “But the Far Isles . . . people will come looking . . .” I grabbed Luka’s hand for support, and he squeezed back.
“Creel,” Miles said in his kind way, “no one is going to want to trespass on the lands of thousands of dragons. The rumor is that only the Moralienin are powerful enough—or foolish enough—to trade with dragons, that every one of their ships is met by a battalion of a hundred dragons, armed with black spears twice the length of a man.” Miles waggled his eyebrows. “Tobin and I started that last rumor ourselves.”
I dropped Luka’s hand so I could hug my brother-in-law again. He patted my back.
“They’ll be safe, Creel,” Luka said. “Don’t worry.”
“I know, I can’t help it.” I sighed.
“There are other things to worry about,” Isla said, with a breathless little laugh. She was looking up at the doors to the palace.
Framed in the grand entryway was King Caxel, and just to his left was Aunt Reena. They came down the stairs together, and both of them started to talk before they even reached the bottom.
“So you remembered your duties at last,” King Caxel huffed at Luka.
“Again I find you flaunting your legs in public,” Aunt Reena shrieked, and threw a dressing gown around me. She’d apparently brought it with her, just for this purpose.
“Much to be done,” King Caxel went on. “The new trade liaisons from Citatie and Moralien will be attending the wedding, and the feasts will begin next week.”
“There are ungrateful girls wherever I look,” Aunt Reena said. “I find good, noble husbands for Pella and Leesel, and how do they thank me? Elopements!”
I had been prepared to ignore my aunt’s ranting, but this caught my attention.
“Pella and Leesel
eloped
? With whom?”
“Their horrid, little, common suitors from Carlieff came in the night and carried them both off last week!” Aunt Reena threw up her hands in despair. “Now you’ll have two fewer bridal attendants, and I’ll have to start finding matches for the younger girls,” she grumbled.
My uncle joined us, hugging Luka and me, and kissing the top of my head. “Reena, dear, I still think that after Creel’s wedding we should return to Carlieff and make sure our older girls are settled with their new husbands. We can always return to the King’s Seat next year for a brief visit.” He winked at me, and I grinned.
“We’ll see,” Aunt Reena said reluctantly. “I’m half-tempted to cut those girls off without a penny of my fortune.”
I couldn’t help but snort at this. What fortune? I certainly hoped that Aunt Reena wasn’t hoping to negotiate a bride price for me from King Caxel.
“Don’t you make that face at me, my girl!” She shook a finger under my nose. “I’m a wealthy trader now!”
“It’s true,” my uncle said in bemusement. “Both the monkeys and the dragon-birds are selling very well.”
“The monkeys and the dragon-birds?” I drew back, exchanging looks with Luka.
“Horrid things,” King Caxel said, shuddering. “But they do bring in gold, don’t they, Reena?”
He and my aunt nodded like old business partners.
“Your aunt convinced one of these Moralienin traders to give her a dragon-bird and a monkey as gifts for the family of the new princess,” my uncle explained. “And within a week, the monkey had given birth to two babies, and the dragon-bird had laid four eggs. Reena’s been very savvy about it, selling a few, keeping the others to breed. Our rooms are quite full of small animals at this point.” He pulled back a sleeve and showed us some bright red scratches that were clearly the work of Ruli’s kin.
“Oh,” I said, unable to think of anything else to say. I fervently hoped that they would take their burgeoning menagerie with them when they returned to Carlieff. I was not keen on either monkeys or the so-called dragon-birds.
“And where is your brother?”
My aunt had just noticed that Hagen hadn’t returned with us. He was staying in the Far Isles to continue his apprenticeship, since he’d already seen me married once.