The Dragon Prince's Consort

Three

Before he opened his eyes Valen reached for and carefully squeezed the small, soft body next to him and buried his nose in it, inhaling the scent of the human woman who'd appeared as if by magic in his bedroom. She'd looked so...otherworldly last night, like something from a dream standing in his room, in his favorite robe, as though his loneliness and melancholy had finally devolved into a hallucination to break the monotony of his life. But when he'd kissed her, taken her breast in his mouth and tasted her skin, her realness engulfed him with his own Flame. Feeling around now he found that breast or its twin and cupped it, sighing as it just filled his hand. She was too strange to be beautiful by Drass standards, but her deep brown eyes with their long dark lashes and her scaleless pale skin had caught his attention from the start. Was that what Ben had seen in her that made her bring Fang back here?

You know why Ben brought her here, whispered a cruel voice that lived in a corner of his mind, you know. You're small and weak and ugly, no Drass woman wants you. None of the Wardens wanted to put up with you, so they bought you a whore to keep you busy on your birthday. He shook his head, willing the voice to shut up. So what if his father's Wardens had pooled their money to buy him a girl for his birthday? A gift was a gift, and he couldn't turn down a gift lest he look ungrateful. He would simply thank Ben for the kindness and move on with his life. His lonely, miserable, sad, pathetic, pointless life.

Fang made a small noise and Valen opened his eyes. He watched her stretch and turn over to face him, glancing down at the hand grasping at her and giving him a coy smile. She wiggled across the bed and cuddled up close to him. "I guess you didn't wake up last night."

"Eh? Oh, I suppose not." Would she have actually liked being woken up in the cold, silent hours before dawn to his seeking touch? Valen ran the tips of his claws over her skin, the points rounded off for the application of gold lacquer. Her body was safe in his hands, claws or no claws, and for a long moment Valen shut his eyes and savored the feeling of her body against his, her small breasts pressed against his chest. Looking down he caught her eye before he bent to kiss her. Like last night Fang rose up and Valen's hearts fluttered at the idea that she was moving towards him, not away. He could feel his Flame rising, the desire to fill her with his heat again right now, but Valen pushed down the urge. "Now, how about that breakfast – is there anything you'd prefer?"

"Do you have coffee or tea?"

"I have just about anything you could want. How do you take your coffee?"

"Black, please."

"Right," Valen hauled himself out of bed to dress. He waved Fang down when she tried to follow. "Oh no, I'll take care of it! That dressing table has combs and oils for your hair, and your clothes are where you left them. I'll be back soon."

In the halls he passed some of the preservation staff oiling the joints of the dozen or so suits of armor standing along the walls. Most of them ignored him, which Valen was accustomed to, and the ones who didn't either gave curt nods or abbreviated bows as he passed. One of the new maids stepped back as he turned a corner, evidently startled by him, and Valen apologized quietly and wished her a good day. She stared after him, but Valen ignored her – he was used to people looking at him like he was a freak. 

He pushed through the doors of the long dining hall and headed to the sideboard laden with dishes, bowls and trays piled high with food. Valen took a plate and looked over the arrangement, trying to guess how much a human would eat. He decided to get Fang about half as much as he might eat and began assembling an array of items – hot brown bread with butter and soft white cheese sprinkled with herbs, tender biscuits with fruit and nuts baked into them, a bowl of thick, creamy porridge with fruit, fried meats and soft-boiled eggs still in their shells. Carafes of fruit juices and pots of coffee and tea sat every few feet, steaming or sweating as their contents dictated. Valen stacked as much as he dared on the plate before setting it down, but as soon as it left his hand a roll and the eggs disappeared, along with a piece of fried meat and a wedge of hard cheese. Valen rolled his eyes and began again. He split a fluffy roll with a knife and stuffed it with cheese, only for it to vanish to the sound of a rumbling chuckle as an enormous shadow fell over him.