The Reluctant Lord (Dragon Lords) (21 page)

It took a moment, but she located an area assessable through an opening in the far wall. From a distance, it gave the illusion of being solid stone, but when she stepped close she found an entire dressing section through an opening. Her trunks were there, as were the bolts of material. She opened the first and found the wig she wore on her wedding day. After the mine, that day felt so long ago. The faint smell of perfume wafted over her when she lifted the heavy piece to set it on the floor. Her smile faded.

Would her parents understand her decision to stay? Would they respect it? Or would they try to force her to return to Redde to have her children? Her opinion of Qurilixen had changed, but how she saw her husband would not be how her parents saw him. She knew the Draig to be honorable, happy people. Her parents would think them overly emotional barbarians, primitives whose only redeeming quality is that they produced male children. But what good were male children to the great lord and lady if they could not raise them in a Redding home?

Stepping back, she held perfectly still and stared at the towering hair. Clara wanted to stay. She knew that unquestioningly. But she also knew when her parents wanted something done, they got it done.

Clara turned her back on the wig, pushing her fears down. Vlad wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She trusted in that. Though her parents might try, this was her home and she wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

Vlad tried not to look up at the many eyes staring down at him. The portrait completely dominated the space, giving the feeling of a stoically judging audience inspecting his every move. Now, he wasn’t exactly prudish by any sense of the word, but he had a hard time imagining doing the things he wanted to do to his wife with that inexpressive gathering watching on. The banner of his adopted family’s dragon standard had been moved to accommodate the piece and now hung over his front door. He could just imagine the laughs as the servants put the monstrosity of a wedding gift up.

Vlad vowed never, ever,
ever
—for the happiness of his marriage—dare to call the portrait a monstrosity out loud. His wife loved it so he would learn to live with it. He glanced up. Every creepy, unamused inch of it.

Though it had been a while since he’d stayed in the fortress home, he wasn’t surprised to see it had been cleaned. Without looking, he knew the bathing room to the right would be stocked with soaps and drying linens. His office would be lined with scrolls he rarely acknowledged and reports Mirek liked to write for his brothers—longwinded things that bespoke of his ambassadorial missions in agonizing detail. Too bad Mirek hadn’t found a bride at the ceremony. Perhaps then the man would have less time for reporting. Undoubtedly, a new stack rested there untouched since the servants had set them down.

To the right, his kitchen would have basics, including a food simulator he didn’t like. As soon as the servants learned he was at home, they would make sure to stock his home with perishables. Hidden inside the wall would be his liquor stash. Actually a drink didn’t sound so bad at the moment.

“Vlad?”

He stopped mid-action and turned to the door as it slid open. His brother Alek stepped inside. “Cenek said you had arrived. Now, would you like to explain why we have double the amount of ceffyls milling about outside? They will overrun the pastures within a year if we keep them all here.”

“Actually, not at the moment,” he answered.

Alek stopped and looked up. He visibly retracted. “What in the name of—?”

“My wife’s family,” Vlad inserted before his brother could say anything insulting. He pointed to his room where Clara was, letting Alek know they were not alone. Loudly, he added, “Isn’t it a lovely gift.”

Alek made a weak noise and nodded his head. Just as loud, but not very convincingly, he said, “Yes, lovely.”

“I hear you and Bron have found wives,” Vlad said. “Many blessings, brother.”

Alek’s face softened and Vlad could tell his brother had been blessed with a well-made match. “Mirek too. There was some confusion as to his luck because she was not in the traditional receiving line. Actually, his luck now is…”

“Is she…?” Vlad prompted, willing Alek to continue his comment about Mirek’s bride.

Alek looked up and gave a small frown. With his hands, he gestured first to the painting and then above his head to indicate all the women had cone-shaped heads in the portrait. He pointed up to Vlad’s room. Silently, he mouthed, “Is she…?”

Vlad grimaced and shook his head in denial.

Alek gave a dramatic, soundless sigh of relief. Vlad very happily punched him. Hard.

Alek laughed. “I deserve that.”

“What about Mirek’s luck?” Vlad prompted, trying to draw his brother’s gaze off the portrait.

“Lady Riona, his wife, is in stasis. Mirek had an isolation chamber built for her. We’ve had the Medical Alliance doctors here but they’re not sure why she won’t wake up. After their ceremony was completed, Mirek found her in a patch of the yellow. The doctors said she’s not contagious and she doesn’t carry any known alien diseases.”

The yellow was a low-growing, ground-covering plant near the palace whose spores induced temporary sleep. Though fatal in long doses if the victim happened to never wake up and thus starved to death, its affects generally wore off quickly once a person stopped breathing it in. It wasn’t known to cause prolonged illnesses, especially none that required physicians and isolation.

“I’ve never heard if it making a person sleep for so long, but they think it might have been an allergic reaction,” Alek finished. “As luck would have it, Bron married Riona’s sister, Lady Aeron, so the sleeping lady is well cared for.”

Vlad didn’t doubt Mirek would ensure every comfort for his ill bride. He couldn’t imagine the worry his brother must be feeling.

“It’s you!” Clara’s cheeks were slightly flushed as she came down the stairs. She’d wound her hair to the nape of her neck, keeping it off her face. Vlad automatically smiled to see her. She stepped past him as she studied Alek’s face.

“My lady,” Alek said, bowing his head. “You recognize me without my mask?”

“Solarflowers,” she stated, as if that one thought needed to explode out of her body. “Please, for my sanity, give the ceffyls solarflowers.”

“My lady?” Alek glanced at Vlad in question, clearly not following.

“They won’t leave me alone. They follow me around. They keep showing me pictures of you catching babies that do not make it. I think they mourn because then they keep insisting they need to eat solarflowers. At this point, if I have to grow them myself, I will. But please. Solarflowers.”

“My lady…?” Alek gestured to her while turning to Vlad. “Is she…well?”

“Quite,” Vlad said. He waited a few more seconds, enjoying Alek’s helpless confusion before finally explaining his wife’s gifts and her communication with the beasts. Clara stood beside him nodding as he spoke.

“That is a remarkable gift, my lady,” Alek said. “I will take your words under advisement.”

Clare sighed heavily in relief. “Thank you, my lord.” Vlad began to speak when Clara suddenly stiffened. Her eyes darkened, ringing with green. “We have to go. Your brother is in danger. They put him underground.”

“What are you…?” Vlad touched her arm.

She blinked several times before grabbing him. “The Tyoe. That is what I couldn’t see earlier because the ceffyls kept insisting. But the Tyoe put your brother underground. They hope to distract you all into looking for him. They keep him alive in case they need to move him or use him. But he’s trapped.”

“She does have a gift,” Alek put forth in shock. “That already happened. Bron was captured in the forest and left chained in this underground prison near the hunting cabin. The Var seemed the more likely culprit at the time, though we are so far north from the borderlands and could not detect their cat shifter stink in the forest. However, since we didn’t recall there being an old underground prison in the forest, I have to assume the cell is a relic of the ancient wars. The Var most likely would have no way of knowing of the prison’s existence. Lady Aeron told us she intercepted a transmission saying aliens calling themselves Tyoe might try to take our mines by force.”

“Is Bron harmed? What happened?” Vlad demanded, wondering why no one had sent for him.

“It was over quickly. I found him and he is safe,” Alek assured him. “Mirek has just recently returned from space. He scanned the sky, or did whatever those ships of his do, and determined that an alien craft was recently over the mountains, but whoever it was has left. Precautions are being taken to ensure our protection. The king has ordered we take care of the matter. He has enough problems with King Attor. The Var have been crossing into our territory and he worries there will be a war before the princes properly settle their marriages.” He turned to Clara. “How did you know about the Tyoe’s plan?”

Vlad told the story of the mine and what his wife had done.

A subtle shift came over Alek’s expression, and by the time Vlad had finished, his brother lifted a hand to Clara’s shoulders. He nodded once in full approval of her. “Well done.” Then, hooking her about the shoulders, Alek didn’t give them an option but to follow him as he added, “Now come meet the rest of your family, my lady. I am sure they will want to hear of this. But I warn you, Lady Aeron is with child and you do not want to reach between her and a plate of Lithorian chocolates. She nearly bit my hand off.”

“Wonderful,” Clara said, turning to smile at Vlad. “The first of her twenty.”

Alek opened his mouth to inquire but Vlad shook his head. “No, brother, don’t ask.”

Chapter Fifteen

Clara peered through the thick clear door to the isolation chamber where Lady Riona slept. The woman was covered in red blisters and kept under constant medical monitoring in the sterile room. The auburn length of her hair was twisted on the top of her head into a very neat, very plain bun. Clara was used to seeing people in stasis because of her sisters. Nothing about the thick yellow tubes inserted into the body and fine white powder covering the patchy skin was pretty, but the woman should be in a comfortable sleep.

Lord Mirek was not at home but his emotion output told Clara he derived comfort from others stopping to visit his bride, so Clara did her duty and came every day to stand quietly by the door. Mirek’s section of the mountain home had smoothed stone floors, thick rugs and oversized wood furniture. Couches were arranged in a square around a low table with a center fire pit. It was comfortable compared to the cold sterility of Lady Riona’s current room.

“I hope to meet you soon, Lady Riona,” Clara said softly, lifting her hand before her face to project a greeting to the woman. Like always, Lady Riona did not move, and Clara doubted the lady knew what she said to her.

The last several weeks in the castle home had been interesting as the new family tried to get to know each other. Lord Bron was the High Duke and his wife, Lady Aeron, was a communication specialist who oversaw the installation of communication upgrades. Lord Alek often called Clara to the pasture to speak to the ceffyls. She hated to go but thought it her duty to help when called upon. Clara didn’t complain. In some ways, she was still the lady her mother raised her to be. Alek’s wife, Lady Kendall, had a brilliant scientist’s mind. She spoke to Mirek and Vlad about the ore mines in a way that gave Clara a slight ache in her head. Though, despite Kendall’s frequent mentions of
galaxa-promethium
, Clara liked her well enough.

There could be little doubt that the Draig men loved their wives. The brothers’ emotions radiated off of them every time the women were near. The wives returned the sentiment wholeheartedly—well, except for Riona who probably didn’t know Mirek was even there. It filled Clara with love to be around them as a group. It was a feeling missing from her childhood. Clara had no doubt she’d been loved, but it had not been shown as it was here. When she had her children, they would know love. The thought warmed her heart.

“Clara?”

Clara turned to the door. The smiles came to her face more naturally now, though her new sisters-by-marriage confessed her moods were hard to read. Aeron crossed over to the room to look in on her sister. A wave of sadness emitted from the woman.

“I was just leaving,” Clara said. “I will give you privacy.”

“No, I can’t stay. I was actually asked to find you and bring you to your section of the castle.” Aeron touched the glass door lightly before turning to walk Clara from the home.

“Has something happened? Vlad should not be back until morning.”

Soon after their arrival at the castle, Lord Bron had sent an army into the mines to look for aliens. Reports also came that the fracking fluid was being cleaned up the best the Draig miners could manage and the hollow would soon be sealed. There would be no mining until the workers were safe. They’d even had to cancel their annual mining festival to deal with the immediate threats. Vlad had traveled down to the mines several times in the last weeks and Clara hated it when he left. However, there was a connection between them, stronger than anything she’d ever experienced, and she could feel him inside her no matter the distance. If he were in danger, she would know.

“I know not. I suppose Mirek might have more news from space?” Aeron frowned. “Or perhaps the men are back from the mountains early?”

Clara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t think so.”

“I managed to pick up some old Earth transmissions when I was up in the tower installing a new communication node.” Aeron walked with her through the quiet halls. They passed a few servants. “I’m recording what I can. We might be missing a little of the transmission, but if you’d like to join us, Kendall and I are going to have some girls only time. We’ll be hiding in my husband’s old home where the men won’t look for us.”

They reached Clara’s home and she nodded, hovering her hand over the scanner. “I would love to.”

“I told the servant to bring me Lady Clara of the Redding, not two more servants.”