The Dragon Warlord's Silent Bride

DIANA’S POV

Raigoro had been inside Blackharrow less than a day when the Citadel began preparing to send him away again.

Diana woke before sunrise to horses in the lower courtyard.

By the time she dressed, officers were moving through the Inner Keep with sealed cases and rolled maps. Servants carried winter provisions toward the gate. Armor replaced the formal uniforms worn during yesterday’s arrival.

Nobody complained that their Grand Duke had just returned.

They simply prepared him to leave.

Alma stood at the bedroom window.

”How many men?”

From beside her, Diana could see enough horses, soldiers, supply sledges, and moving armor to make counting pointless.

Enough.

A knock came at the outer door.

Daric entered carrying a small stack of household papers rather than a sword.

He looked unhappy about both.

”His Grace asked me to confirm your household needs before he leaves.”

Alma immediately moved nearer to Diana.

Daric noticed.

”Food requirements. Lamp oil. Additional blankets. Medicines you regularly use.”

”Why?”

”Because the household asked.”

”That is not what I meant.”

”I know.”

Diana sat at the writing table.

Daric placed the papers in front of her. Alma remained standing.

”I asked whether she requires lamp oil.”

”We have lamps.”

”That would suggest no.”

Alma narrowed her eyes.

Daric picked up the charcoal pencil from the table and marked the line himself.

”No additional lamp oil.”

Diana lowered her attention to the next page before her amusement became obvious.

Daric could apparently survive corrupted creatures more comfortably than household inventories.

The questions continued.

Any food allergies?

None.

Regular medicine?

None.

Did the Duchess require an additional bath attendant?

No.

Would Alma remain permanently assigned to her household?

Alma stopped answering.

”That one actually concerns my investigation,” Daric said. He did not pretend otherwise.

Alma’s posture changed.

”You mean examining her.”

”I mean both.”

”You expect me to help.”

”I expect you to answer household questions when they are household questions.”

”And the others?”

”I expect you to distrust me.”

Alma appeared briefly deprived of an argument.

Daric addressed Diana.

”Your security remains in place while His Grace is gone. Any Southern visitor will be reported before admission.”

Diana wrote:

YOU ARE STAYING?

”Yes.”

BECAUSE RAIGORO DOES NOT TRUST ME?

Daric read it.

”Because someone has tried twice to kill you. And because His Grace does not trust the situation around you.”

Diana appreciated precision even when it was inconvenient.

Daric returned the papers to his arm.

”He will speak with you before departure.”

Alma waited until the door closed.

”He enjoys being difficult.”

She reconsidered.

”Perhaps he enjoys being exact.”

Diana wrote:

WORSE.

Alma smiled.

They descended through the household levels toward the lower military court before the second departure horn.

The court had become organized confusion. Horses stood saddled along the east wall. Supply sledges were being loaded near the gate. A wardkeeper argued with a quartermaster over sealed stone cases while two soldiers tried to keep an impatient dragon mount from snapping at a harness buckle.

Diana stopped.

The dragon was smaller than Meris, though smaller remained a ridiculous word for an animal capable of looking over the head of a mounted soldier. It ignored Diana completely.

Good. She preferred dragons that had other concerns.

Raigoro stood beneath the gatehouse speaking with three officers over a map laid across a wagon lid.

Diana and Alma waited until the meeting ended.

Raigoro rolled the map himself.

”The first failed beacons are east of the upper boundary. The missing patrol should have reached North Hold before midnight.”

Diana took out her slate.

FOUND?

”No.”

She wrote:

ATTACK?

”We don’t know yet.”

That answer seemed to irritate him.

”What we know is that the ward signals stopped in sequence. The weather is clear. The station crews did not report equipment failure before contact ended.”

The ash-hound trail came back to her, along with the black resin and the cut hidden beneath her carriage.

She wrote:

THE SAME PEOPLE?

”Possibly.”

”The Ashen wards fail without human help often enough that I won’t invent a conspirator before we find one.”

He would not call it the same enemy simply because the possibility fit.

She wrote:

HOW LONG?

”If the beacons themselves failed, I can be back tomorrow.”

She waited.

”If the patrol is trapped or the ward itself is failing, longer.”

There was no useful response to that.

Raigoro handed the rolled map to an officer.

”Daric remains here.”

Near the entrance, the First Sword was speaking to a guard captain.

”He has authority over your security. Household matters remain with the household officers. If either side attempts to make you responsible for the other, send them to Daric and let him suffer.”

Apparently Raigoro had not spoken quietly enough.

”I heard that,” Daric called from across the courtyard.

”Yes.”

Diana almost smiled.

Raigoro continued.

”Do not leave the Citadel without Daric’s knowledge.”

Diana took out her slate.

PERMISSION?

”Knowledge.”

She waited.

”If there is an immediate security reason, he can stop the departure.”

That sounded suspiciously similar to permission with more paperwork around it.

Diana wrote nothing.

Raigoro understood the objection anyway.

”This is the result of two assassination attempts, not marriage.”

He kept making that distinction. Protection was one thing. Marriage was another.

Diana had not yet decided whether Blackharrow would honor the difference as carefully once he was gone.

A horn sounded at the gate.

The riders began mounting.

Raigoro pulled on his gloves.

Diana had one more question.

She wrote it before she could decide whether she wanted the answer.

WILL YOU RETURN BEFORE THE GATHERING?

”The winter homecoming?”

A household steward standing nearby cleared his throat.

”Yes, Your Grace. Most of the expected households arrived before you returned. More are due today. The formal assembly is tomorrow evening. The marriage has, ah, increased attendance.”

Raigoro’s expression flattened.

”If the failure is limited to the beacons, I should be back before it begins.”

That was not a promise.

Diana nodded.

Raigoro mounted.

The gate opened.

Blackharrow’s riders passed beneath the raised ironwork in disciplined lines. The Dragon Host mount launched from the lower yard after them, wings driving snow from the walls.

Diana watched until Raigoro disappeared beyond the road.

Without him nearby, no one was measuring which questions she avoided or how long she took to answer. Relief came before Diana could decide what to make of it.

Then the gate began closing.

Raigoro distrusted her, watched her, and had left Daric behind to continue investigating her. He was also the one person in Blackharrow whose authority nobody seemed willing to question.

Diana had wanted room to breathe.

Now she had it among hundreds of strangers who still believed she was Selena.