The Dragon's Arranged Mate(7)

My younger brother was waiting for me when I arrived at my rooms, and I  was pleased to see him. It had been such a hectic event the day before,  I'd hardly had time to speak with him. Morgan was only 18 years old, and  while my temper and stubbornness were often a problem for me, his more  placid nature made him easier to deal with. Oftentimes, people with  questions for me would go to him, first. And while he was still quite  young, I fully intended to name him senior member of my council very  soon. After all, I'd become King at 17; he wasn't too young to sit by my  side. And there was nobody's opinion I trusted more than his.

We embraced warmly. "Brother," Morgan greeted me, then sat opposite me  as I tore into my bread and cheese. "So it seems everything's well in  hand for today's celebration. I've checked with the head cook, the  sexton, all of the servants. I've inspected the hall and even the place  settings for the feast. Everything looks fine. You should have another  successful event today."

I felt a swell of affection for my baby brother; he was better at  managing my affairs than Dogal, by far. I couldn't imagine the uproar  when I announced that I'd be replacing him with my brother. Of course,  part of me enjoyed the thought of Dogal's face when I told him of his  demotion.

"So," he continued, and I could tell by the wicked look in his eyes that  he wanted to get to the real matter at hand. "How was it?"

I laughed heartily and took a bite from my apple. "Yes, why not get to  the real reason for your visit?" I asked, snickering at him.

"I managed to give my report first, didn't I?" he asked, with his own laugh. "So, do, tell me. Was she everything you'd hoped?"

"Oh, brother. She was so much more," I told him, reflecting with  pleasure. He had flown with me many of the nights I'd taken to the sky  in frustration. He knew how I'd struggled to hold myself back during the  long days between our first meeting and our first night together. He  had wisely deduced that I might need protection  –  or, rather, that  others might need protection from me. No sense in burning down an entire  forest simply because I couldn't wait to fuck my bride.

I described her ripe, soft body and the way she had eventually succumbed  with pleasure to me. He sat back with a heavy sigh. "You get all the  luck," he mourned with a frown. But I knew he was only half-serious.

"Just wait, Morgan," I assured him. "Your time will come soon enough;  now that I'm finally wed, you'll be next. Here's hoping you won't have  to wait as long for your bride as I did."

"You didn't have to," he pointed out. "You could have wed her any time within the last four years."

I frowned. This was still something we didn't see eye-to-eye on; I'd  think that with all of his wisdom, he'd understand why I hadn't wanted  to be wed to a child. According to law, I could have taken Anabelle as  my wife as early as her 12th birthday. But the idea of marrying a child  did not appeal to me, and in that respect I had taken after my father. I  knew that while they had been betrothed since childhood, he had chosen  to wait until his bride was 16 before they wed. I had done the same.

"I wanted a woman, not a child," I argued, as I had so many hundreds of  times over the years. "It's enough for both of us that neither had any  choice in the matter of our union    . I at least wanted her to want me,  to be a woman full-grown with desires and needs."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Just trying to buck tradition, you mean," he said sarcastically.

"If you demean my actions, then you demean those of our father as well;  he waited until mother developed, too," I pointed out. "But yes, I grant  you; I do what I want. To hell with tradition and law. I am King. I do  what pleases me."

Morgan shook his head at me, his expression so like our mother's when  she was chiding me. Sometimes I wondered who was truly the older  brother. "You forget, though, that in your determination to have your  own way and go against law and tradition, you left the kingdom without  an heir. An heir is what truly solidifies the family's possession of the  throne. You know that getting Anabelle with child is your top priority  now. And you wasted four years when she could have easily born you a  child."         

     



 

We would never see eye-to-eye on this, and I sighed heavily. Then I  remembered something. "You act as though you have no claim to the  throne!" I laughed, trying to release the tension in the room. But  Morgan was not so easily swayed.

"I just worry, my brother, that your foolhardiness and hardheadedness  might be your downfall. I speak to you out of love," he told me. "And  frankly, I don't want the throne. I'm more than happy to leave it to you  and your children, thank you."

It was a shame, I reflected to myself, that Morgan was so adamantly  against ruling; he would probably have made a better king than I did,  though I would never admit it to anyone else. He might not have  possessed the fiery temper and brash nature of our father, but he had  all of his wisdom and even more.

Just then there was a knock at my chamber door, and into the room swept  Rhiannon. Her expression was one of happiness at the sight of her sons  enjoying each other's company; we were her only two sons, my three  sisters having been married off long ago and living in far-off  locations. They had made the journey to County Cork for the  celebrations, but this was the first time many of them had been back for  years. My brother and I were the only children my mother had on hand at  all times, and I know it pleased her that we got along so well. I had  heard many tales of brothers fighting and dying, trying to get the  throne away from each other. And here I was, with a brother who wanted  anything but to reign.

Still, for all the happiness she derived from our presence together in  my chambers, her expression soon turned just as troubled as it had been  prior to the wedding ceremony. I almost didn't know what to do with her;  my concern was turning into frustration, and my temper was beginning to  simmer beneath the surface. I pushed the dragon deep down. No need to  lash out at her and only make things worse for her.

"What is it, Mother?" Morgan asked, rising to take her hand and lead her  to the space beside him on the settee. The room was laid out and  furnished much the same as the one in which I had slept alongside my  bride the night before, down to the seating arranged before the hearth.  It seemed as though no matter the time of year, the climate was damp and  cool and a fire was required even for those of us whose blood naturally  burned.

My mother shook her head, reluctant to admit her fears. "Morgan, I  cannot get this feeling of utter dread to stop plaguing me," she  murmured. Then she looked at me, fear written all over her face.  "Caside, something has been put in motion which cannot be undone. And I  feel helpless; I don't know what to do to help my son, and his lovely  bride."

"Mother, what is it you've seen now?" Morgan asked, stepping in to  soothe her while I seethed inwardly. I almost didn't recognize her; it  was as if she had aged a decade in the last few days. I knew I could  trust Morgan to stand between us while I controlled my temper.

"I've heard reports of the selkies leaving the isles," she whispered.  "The word was just brought to me, Caside, when I left your marriage  bed."

This got my attention, and I sat up. "The selkies have left?" I asked in  amazement. "This can't be. Where would they go? Why?" The selkies,  mythical creatures of the sea, had lived in the waters off Ireland for  longer than anyone could remember.

Rhiannon merely shrugged. "No one knows; all I hear is that they were  seen swimming away in droves this morning. Now they're done, and there's  no indication of why or where they went."

I had to admit, this puzzled and worried me. I still didn't see what any  of it had to do with my wedding, however; my mother, of course, was  convinced it was an omen of doom.

"They say the animals know even sooner that humans when there is danger  approaching," my mother reminded me. "If they left, there must be  something evil on its way here."

Morgan took her hands in his and rubbed them gently. "But mother," he  reasoned, "both Caside and I are dragons. Neither of us has felt any  foreboding of doom. If it were true that there was some sort of evil  force in the air, we'd be certain to pick up on it as well." I nodded  –   he had a point, as always. I could count on him to keep a clear head. It  was true; when we were changed into our dragon forms, we took on the  instincts and keen abilities of the dragon. We sensed danger, just as  all animals did.

"Morgan is right, as always, Mother," I agreed. "Perhaps there is  something wrong with the water, or there is a storm coming; I'll have  someone look into the problem and report back to me at once. In the  meantime," I added, rising to my feet, "I think we should all prepare  for the coronation. I'm sure it will reflect poorly on all of us if we  get there late, or undressed."