The last time he had seen her, she had been taller than him and painfully self-conscious about it, with bones too pronounced for her skinny frame. Her hair had been the color of ash, and her skin and lips so pale that she forever appeared on the verge of fainting. Only her eyes had been beautiful, gray as storm clouds and framed with thick black lashes.
Raluca had changed. She had grown into her height and seemed comfortable with it, radiating graceful poise. Her chiseled bones now lent her a fierce and elegant beauty. Her skin was flawless ivory, her lips were red as wine, and her hair shone silver as molten metal. Not a trace remained of the awkward girl she’d been, except for her storm-gray eyes.
/> His fiancée-to-be was every inch the dragon princess now. She was beautiful. Exquisite. A treasure any dragon would be proud to claim.
And yet she was nothing more to him than a lovely stranger.
Raluca too was looking him over. Unexpectedly, she let out a chiming laugh, then clapped a slim hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I am not laughing at you. Only at my memory of how awkward we both were. I am glad I am no longer eighteen.”
“So am I.” Spotting the table set for two, he formally bowed and offered Raluca his arm. “Shall we dine?”
She took his arm, allowing him to escort her to the table. Lucas tried to ignore the pointed selection of food— champagne, oysters on the half-shell, roast venison in berry sauce, and broiled quails— all of which was considered either romantic or aphrodisiac.
He’d dated in the years since he’d left Brandusa. He’d even had affairs with women. None had made him catch fire inside, as mates were said to do, but he had enjoyed himself. This would be no different.
Raluca was a charming dinner companion, not to mention extraordinarily beautiful. The dinner passed pleasantly enough until Lucas reached for the dessert, a golden globe set into a platter filled with ice. When he uncovered it, he was confronted by a heart-shaped raspberry sorbet decorated with a scattering of red rose petals and a pair of chocolate wedding rings covered in edible gold foil.
Lucas and Raluca stared at the romantic dessert, then at each other. The acute embarrassment he felt was mirrored on her face. Then they both burst out laughing. Lucas supposed it was either laugh, or fling themselves out the window and refrain from shifting on the way down.
“I hope it’s as delicious as it is unsubtle,” Raluca said at last.
Lucas removed the rings, then took the gold spoons and molded the heart into a diamond. “There! Now it’s a reference to a game of cards.”
Raluca snapped the wedding rings into small pieces and scattered them atop the diamond. “And the coins one might win.”
He smiled at her, the chill in his heart easing a little. “Do you wish this marriage, Raluca? If you choose to refuse it, I will too. I would not let you accept dishonor alone.”
Her chin lifted and she straightened her back. Someone had taught her just as Grand Duke Vaclav had taught him. Her uncle, Duke Constantine, perhaps. “I swore a vow of honor on my country and on my hoard. Many dragons before us have had such marriages. It is only the lucky few who find their mates.”
Lucas stifled a sigh, realizing how much he’d hoped she would beg him to break his vow. “That is true.”
“But it was kind of you to offer.” She smiled, though a shadow of sadness clouded her gray eyes, and took his hands in hers. “Let us make the best of this partnership. It need not be terrible. We clearly have much in common. I hope we may become great friends.”
“I believe that we shall.” Lucas squeezed her delicate hands, wishing that everything could be different. He sincerely liked her. He would do his best to be a good husband to her.
They ate the dessert, but Lucas didn’t taste it any more than he’d tasted the rest of the meal. It was impossible to forget that at midnight tomorrow, he would be engaged to a woman who could never truly love him and whom he could never love as she deserved.
Tick-tock.
Chapter Two
Journey
Journey Jacobson always imagined herself as Cinderella when she hauled out the ashes. As she dumped the ash bucket out on the compost heap, a flock of colorful wild parakeets flew up from a nearby tree and circled above her head, making annoyed-sounding chirps.
Journey was pretty sure that had happened in Cinderella, too. But since she couldn’t afford either an internet connection or an international call, she couldn’t check. Instead, she stood and watched the parakeets flutter against the sapphire sky. When she’d first come to Brandusa, she’d been amazed at the flocks of wild parakeets with their feathers of pastel green, blue, pink, lavender, or yellow. They were like living Easter decorations. She’d been in Brandusa for three months now, and they still amazed her.
The parakeets settled back down into their tree. With a sigh, Journey hefted her bucket. She’d have been happy to stay in Brandusa longer, but she was about to lose her position with the Florescu family, who paid her a small salary plus room and board to be an au pair and a companion for their seventeen-year-old daughter, Stefania. But Stefania was about to turn eighteen and no longer needed a chaperone.
The Florescus, who had grown fond of Journey, had helped her search for a new job. But to her dismay, she hadn’t been able to find another position in the city. She had enough money saved for a plane ticket out of the country, but none left over to cover her expenses while she searched for a new job. It looked like her year of backpacking across Europe was over.
“Oh, well,” she said to the parakeets. She’d spent so much time in cities where no one spoke English that she’d gotten in the habit of talking to animals. They couldn’t talk back either, but at least they didn’t give her annoyed or embarrassed or apologetic glances when she addressed them in English. “It was wonderful while it lasted. I got to live my dream! And at least I’m going out with a bang.”
The parakeets chirped excitedly, as if they wanted to hear more.
“I’m going to a ball at the palace!” Journey informed them. “Can you imagine? Stefania was invited, so I’m going as her chaperone. I don’t have suitable clothes and I can’t quite fit into hers, so her mother is going to help me dig through the attic to find something I can wear. The ball is traditional garb only, so it won’t matter if it’s old— it won’t be out of fashion.”
The parakeets seemed to approve of this plan. A bubblegum pink parakeet flapped its wings and a powder blue parakeet let out a piercing screech.