The Dragon's Match

VI

It was a bracingly cold day and even in the room that had been warmed with the aid of the lit hearth and sconces, the chill still seeped through the wooden panelled walls. She hugged her cloak tighter around her neck, the fur-lined hood brushing against her skin, her scars, and she recalled why she enjoyed the cold.

Her scars were easily covered with large masses of fabric and nary a person would question why, or look at her askance and take her for a fool in warm weather should she choose to do so.

Oh, she wasn't so much ashamed of the manner in which her body was maimed that inspired her to shield her ravaged skin from prying eyes... it was more the memory they invoked and the feelings that came with it. The eyes that would alight upon her skin with curiosity and pity, silently begging for explanation while relishing in the notion that they were not the ones who were deformed.

For Lillian, it was better simply to avoid them altogether. Her scars were part of her, yes- but the past they brought with them was something she was still coming to terms with.

"And how," Lillian said, pulling herself out of those dark thoughts to focus instead on the matchmaker beside her, "do you suggest I proceed?"

Addilyn smiled lightly and made a gesture that was similar to a shrug. "I suggest that you enjoy it, first and foremost," she told her. "You are afforded the time and luxury to revel in the attention of being courted by various different men- human and fae- unlike Millie. Take you time to truly know your suitors."

Lillian couldn't help but snort- it sounded like a terrible waste of time. Even now, she was itching to wash her hands of this process so she could tend to matters of her estate with a level and clear head. Already it was being run amok by the coexistence of human and Other, and though she did not have any qualms allowing the merging of the two species to reside under her jurisdiction, there was already murmurs of discord among her tenants. Murmurs that Millie wasn't aware of, or providing their due acknowledgement.

With that thought lingering on her mind, her lips hardened with resolve and she retrieved the pen from Millie's fingers. Abruptly, and without truly considering every new applicant that swirled and disappeared upon the page before her, Lillian began to check every profile that swam before her eyes. "I have a better idea," she muttered, flicking her hand over the parchment. "Allow all the matches to convalesce here at Ravensfield for the day and I shall take my pick. I know what I am looking for and a piece of parchment will hardly tell me everything I need about the male. Make a show of it, if you must- society will be titillated, I am sure."

Both women present regarded her with mildly shocked and uncertain expressions mirrored on their countenances. "Are you sure? This sounds a bit rash," Millie began, but Lillian intercepted her with a brusque swipe of her hand across the tablet- another match made.

"I am quite sure," she confirmed unwaveringly. "Ever since you made me aware of this ridiculous clause in our father's last will and testament, I could not be bothered to draw out the ordeal longer than necessary- nor do I expect or want a love match. For someone in my position, it is rarely expected anyway."

"You may not expect it, but it is entirely possible," Millie pointed out softly. "And when it does happen, I wouldn't want anything less for you-"

"If it does happen," Lillian told her firmly, setting the tablet aside as she was confident that she had made at least a dozen matches, "I shall be wary of it- as to be expected. There are not many men who would take a duchess as wife with love on the mind, sister, even though you were one of the fortunate few. If I am to endure a husband, I can at least ensure he is worthy to be duke and it should commence with the males I've checked."

"I'll not apologise for being happy," Millie said gently, though conviction burned through her clear blue eyes with a tenacity that was familiar and aching to Lillian. She felt a pang of regret at her harshly jaded words, suddenly realising that her sister may have interpreted them as an attack on her and her duty to Ravensfield during Lillian's absence. She did not begrudge Millie finding a husband that adored her, a true love match marked by the gods of the Other, even if it meant Ravensfield became the catalyst for change and revolution of the unjust rights of the other.

Even through her temerity at encountering their presence so prolifically on the estate grounds, Lillian was well aware of the past and almost criminal treatment of those that dwelled among humans. She supported the motion, and everything her sister had put in place in order to ensure Ravensfield's stance was apparent- and the allies that had come forward were assuring- however she was also intrinsically aware of the repercussions.

It would not be an easy task to take on.

Ravensfield would need a strong, resilient duke to take precedence where Lillian could not.

The man she needed to marry had to encompass all of these things- a tenacity to rule, a steadfast inherence to the rights of those repressed and a willingness to meet confrontation head on, or a suave appeal to diplomacy. He had to be able to charm those that were more stubborn to the old ways of thinking and beliefs.

Lord, and here she was swiping profiles that waxed lyrical on their lovemaking abilities.

She rose abruptly from her seat, deciding that the cold weather would do just the thing to clear her mind and stabilize her thoughts. It was time, anyway, to practise her aim and compel her fingers to steady their endless tremors.

Perhaps replenish the violets that she had potted beside her father's tombstone where he lay buried atop a knoll on the estate. Derrick had always provided her stern yet sage advice when he was alive, perhaps he had some more guidance to provide even in his death.

"A moment, Lady Ravensfield," Mrs Holt said, realising her most prominent client was about to depart, "when would you like to meet your potentials?"

"As soon as they are able to venture to Ravensfield." She made to tighten the leather belt at her waist, cinching it over the thick woollen fabric before inclining her chin to both women. "Tonight, tomorrow, it matters not. Merely summon me when they are about."

She pivoted, intending to head from the door, and almost collided with Miss Cotton. "Isn't it peculiar to know that if you stare into the eyes of someone you love, it is claimed that your hearts will synchronise?" she announced so that all women turned to her with varying expressions of fright and shock.

"Good Lord, have you been here the entire time?" Mrs Holt asked Miss Cotton, fanning her face. "Do warn us next time, dear."

"I believe I have lost one year of my life," Millie breathed, her hand pressed to her heart.

"I was present for breakfast," Tiffany Cotton said, wide eyes taking in the company before her. "The eggs were rather runny for my tastes."

"Noted." Again, Lillian nodded her head to theother ladies and bit back a smile, leaving her companions to the remarkableMiss Cotton's presence.