The Reluctant Lord (Dragon Lords) Page 17

  “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 cl
eaned 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.”

  Clara stiffened. A familiar perfume surrounded her.

  “Clara?” Aeron whispered.

  Clara turned wide eyes to find her parents standing in the middle of her Draig home. Their dispassionate faces gave nothing away as they stared at her.

  The great lord was immaculate, from his powdered wig to his long jacket. Jaene was just as ornate with a pink gown encrusted with green gemstones, wide hoop skirt and a tall wig that was nearly half the woman’s natural height. Her mother’s face was paled by cosmetics, expect for the bright pink lips and cheeks, and green lashes and brows.

  The couple matched, which only made Clara feel all the more out of place. Clara took a deep breath and then another before locking eyes with them. They both looked at her, not realizing who she was. No wonder. Decorum had many rules, and Clara currently was breaking most of them.

  “You should leave,” she whispered to Aeron. The woman looked as if she might protest, but in the end she did as Clara indicated.

  Clara drew the expression from her face and stoically made her way forward. She lifted her wrist to her mother. “Welcome to my new home, Great Lady.”

  Her mother stood, unmoving, simply staring at her unpainted face. Clara turned to her father and lifted her wrist. Before she could finish the gesture, he snapped, “What dishonor is this? You dare to greet us dressed like a commoner? I thought you a servant.”

  Clara drew her eyes to the floor. “Forgive me, Great Lord, for my appearance.” She felt like a child again, only worse. Out of all the things she’d done, of the times she dared to question them or acted even slightly contrary, she had never broken as many Redding customs as she did on this planet. She thought when she saw them she wouldn’t care about traditions, instead showing them how happy she was in her marriage. Instead, one smell of her mother’s perfume, two disapproving looks and she was reduced to what she was raised to be—their noble daughter…who was currently disappointing them.

  “What did I tell you when you left?” her mother demanded.

  Clara recited the words, “Remember the lady I have raised you to be. You represent all of your family with each action you take. I mourn your going, but rejoice in the next generation.”

  “And yet your hair is loose and your skin is naked,” Jaene said. “Did the barbarians take your cosmetics?”

  Clara thought of the young boys who’d thought her cosmetics were war paint. She started to chuckle. Her mother’s gasp stopped her and she dropped her head lower.

  “Monitor yourself,” her mother demanded in a flat tone that was edged with hardness.

  “Forgive me, Great Lady, for my new home’s customs,” Clara said in a docile tone. “I am only acting as the Great Lord of the Redding and the Emperor decreed and embracing the culture of my husband’s people. This is how noblewomen are expected to appear on this planet.”

  “Do not be contrary to your mother, Clara,” her father asserted.

  “Forgive me, Great Lord, for displeasing you,” she apologized yet again. Inside, a heavy sensation began to fill her. It left her a little sick to her stomach. She knew they disapproved of her and she was unable to say anything that would make them understand her new life—a life they had sent her to. “Has the new generation started?”

  “All female,” the great lord answered. “Not the best start to a new line.”

  Jaene lifted her hand and hovered it over Clara’s stomach. After a few moments, she said, “Perhaps this one will be male, Great Lord.”

  Clara looked at her stomach. A baby? Vlad’s baby? Excitement filled her and it was very hard for her to keep it down. Luckily, the nobles were more focused on themselves than their daughter, and they missed the jittery fluttering in her chest.

  News of her condition seemed to brighten her father some. “Then our timing is well planned, Great Lady.”

  Clara wondered why she had never noticed the stilted way her parents spoke to each other. She thought of Arianwen and her sons. She thought of their laughter and warmth.

  Her father continued, “When your mother told me of what your companion reported to her, I knew we must come as soon as it was convenient for us to do so.”

  “All that beautiful material wasted on the floor.” Jaene gave a single shake of her head. “When I heard about the ruined bolts, I wished I had forced you to take the Emperor’s confidant, Lord Camern. Then the Emperor would not have been so angry and insisted you come here to these barbarians.”

  Clara lifted her gaze. That was the first she’d heard of this being an actual punishment. Before she could think to stop it, she said, “Lord Camern is in love with himself.”

  “Monitor!” her mother fervently whispered.

  They still stood in the middle of the room. Clara realized her parents thought themselves above sitting on the Draig furniture.

  “In such a short time, these primitives have done so much damage. I mourn the loss of my hard work.” The great lady shared a stoic look with her husband. “They have even taken her proper gowns and dressed her in this rag.”

  Clara looked at the gown Arianwen had made for her after the mine collapse. She rather liked the ornate stitches along the sleeves. Seeing Jaene’s expressionless face, she wondered what her mother would think about Clara being trapped in a mine, alone with several men for days, eating spiders.

  “And why is our family portrait on the floor?” Jaene gestured behind her.

  “My lord husband has decided to respect the Redde tradition and is building a portrait hall where this is being moved. It will be the first hung in a position of honor.” Clara thought it a very sweet gesture by her husband. He seemed very proud of the idea, so she didn’t tell him she thought the eyes of her family staring at her when she kissed him was odd as well. Let him think he had that one secret.

  “We will take her home now,” her father decided.

  “As you wish, always as you wish,” Jaene agreed. “I will manage the problem and ensure your grandchild is not primitive. I will not have my daughter without noble refinements. I believe this is enough punishment. Though, perhaps you would wish that I redress her here, before we are seen by the crew?”

  “That is what I so commanded,” the great lord answered, though he had said no such thing. “If the barbarians try to stop us, we’ll send armies to destroy them.”

  The way he said it was so simple and matter of fact, as if he commented that the sky on Qurilixen was green.

  “As you wish, husband, always as you wish,” Jaene said, never disagreeing with her husband’s words. Finally, as her parents’ will was decided, her mother lifted her hand to Clara in a loving gesture. Clara felt comfort in those thin blue veins, pale skin and fragrant per
fume, but it was merely the comfort of a fond childhood memory. Without touching her daughter’s disagreeably naked face, Jaene let the gesture drop.

  Clara instinctually repeated the movement with her own wrist to her mother. This had been the plan from the beginning. Come to Qurilixen, marry, become pregnant and then go home. She had done all they had sent her to do. When she looked at their expectant expressions, she knew she’d been a fool to think she would ever be allowed to stay with Vlad, no matter how much she loved him. Duty did not care about love. Her parents did not care what her heart wanted. She had no doubt her father would send his armies to take her by force if she tried to stay without their blessing. She had no wish for others to die on her behalf.

  As she looked at them, her face became the stoic mask they would expect in their daughter. She stiffened her body and mimicked their statuesque poses. The gesture came easier now that she’d accepted her place.

  “It will be as you wish,” Clara said, using every bit of strength she had not to cry. “But I have one condition that must first be met before we can go.”

  * * *

  Vlad growled as the castle finally came into view. He’d been running for nearly an hour in shifted form, trying to get home. Something was not right. His heart felt as if it was being torn from his chest. Clara had been a constant inside him and then suddenly, without warning, she’d disappeared. Though his muscles burned and his lungs heaved for air, he pushed harder.

  He followed his instincts down the center hall to the common rooms. Grabbing the corner edge of the wall to propel himself on, he slid to a stop at the scroll room door. A light gasp sounded but he ignored it. His eyes desperately sought Clara, and he sighed with relief when he found that she was there and she was well. Then he noticed her tall wig and painted face. She sat still, perched on the end of a wide chair. The furniture accommodated her wide skirt.

  The slow exhaling of breath was hardly noticeable to human hearing, but his dragon senses detected it easily. Next to his wife was an older Redde woman. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted. Though her face was devoid of any true emotion, he knew by the sound of her frantically beating heart he terrified her. By her face, he knew she was Clara’s mother. Vlad instantly shifted to human form and stepped forward.