Light Dragons 01 - Love in the Time of Dragons

family. I would not let you go, but indeed, I have no choice in the matter. And Lord Baltic said that no ill would come to you, not that I told him anything about your past. Still, he swore that you would not be harmed, and that is what we must hold to.”
    “I don’t care what that Baltic says,” I murmured, holding tight to Margaret. “I’m not an animal.”
    “I’ve explained to you, dear—dragons do not take their bestial form very often. They prefer to be in human form, and live amongst us as a mortal would.” She gestured to the maids to carry down my traveling baskets. “Come, Ysolde. It is time. Lord Baltic is waiting, and I do not wish for his anger at a delay to fall upon your father.”
    “Lord Baltic can go stick his head in the pig’s wallow for all I care,” I said, stalking out the door after the maids.
    Mama made noises of distress, but followed after me, speaking to herself as she ran over the things I was taking with me. “I asked him if he wanted the bed, but he said no, he wanted to travel fast. I have done my best by her, I hope he knows that.”
    Margaret hurried after me, wiping her face. “Ysolde will be able to visit us, won’t she, Mama?”
    “Of course I will,” I said as our little procession marched down the stairs to the great hall below. “No one can stop me from seeing you whenever I want.”
    “Is that so?” a deep male voice asked.
    I turned my head as I stepped off the last step, meeting Baltic’s ebony gaze with a level look. “Yes, that’s so.”
    He watched me for a moment, then gave a jerky nod of his head. “We will do our best to make you happy, chérie .”
    “Stop calling me that,” I hissed through my teeth as I passed him.
    His laughter rolled out across the hall in response.
    The leave-taking that followed was not something I ever wish to live through again. I clung first to my mother, then my father, unable to keep tears from spreading tracks down my cheeks, their wetness blending with that of Margaret’s when she hugged me, her face pressed to mine as she whispered her desire that I not be long in returning.
    By the time the imperious Baltic lifted me onto my horse, I wasn’t in much better shape than Margaret, although I had enough presence of mind to glare at him when he gripped my leg as he adjusted the stirrups.
    “I am not a strumpet to be handled such,” I snapped, my emotions frayed and irritated, placing my boot in the middle of his chest and pushing him backwards.
    One of his guards, the one he called Kostya, a black-eyed devil if ever there was one, laughed and said something in a language I did not know.
    Baltic shot me a look filled with ire, but said nothing. Before I knew it, we were riding across the bridge over the moat, the only home I’d ever known slowly slipping away behind me.
    I didn’t speak to any of the dragon men for three days.
    On the fourth, I was sick of my own thoughts, tired of grieving for my lost family, and bored almost to the point of insensibility.
    “Where are we going?” I asked that evening, when we passed through the gates of a small town.
    Baltic, who was riding next to me, shot me an amused glance. “You’re speaking to us?”
    “Since I have no other alternative,” I said in my most haughty manner. “I would like to know where these other parents of mine are.”
    We stopped in front of a small inn. The three guards dismounted; one of the men, a short, stocky man named Pavel, disappeared into the low opening of the inn. Baltic tossed the reins of his horse to a stableboy before helping me off my mount. “I am not taking you to your parents.”
    I stared at him in surprise. “Why not?”
    He put his hand on my back and gave me a little shove toward the inn. Since it looked like it was about to rain, I went inside, ducking at the low beam at the doorway. The inn was of modest size, smoky and dark inside, but there were no foul odors as you will sometimes find in such places. To the right was a rough staircase leading to a floor above, while to the left was a common room filled with benches and rough-hewn plank tables.
    “We do not yet know who your parents are. The mortal woman would not tell us the name of the dragons who left you with her, and although it would have been possible to get that information from her, such methods can take time, and I wished to be on my way. We will go to my home in Riga, and from there begin the search for your true parents.”
    I felt like a dog hackling