Dragon Flight by Caitlin Ricci Page A

stepped away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know that we could ever be a real family. But I would like a chance to have that. After so many years of caring for Caden, I never thought I’d see a time where he could take care of himself. He’s a child again and I’m not quite sure what to do with him now. I need a friend more than I need a husband, but Amalthea won’t stop pushing.” She sighed wearily. “Think you could be okay with that? Even for a little while?”
    He considered her for a long moment. “Sounds like a fairly big compromise for me to make. But I will under a few conditions.”
    Her eyebrows quirked at him. “What conditions?”
    “First off, you give every man out there a chance. A real chance. Second, if none of them happen to interest you, then you give us a chance. An honest chance. And I’ll have mistresses,” he added the last part with a smug smile.
    She laughed at him. “Mistresses?”
    His smile broadened. “You’re still in love with Faolan?” he waited for her to nod. “And I’m still a man.”
    She rolled her eyes at him.
    “When you can give your heart to me and me alone the mistresses will disappear,” he said.
    She smiled coyly at him. “Fine, then I have one condition for you. If I want to invite a man to my bed I will.”
    He blinked at her. “The queen cannot—”
    She wagged her finger at him. “You’ll be the king consort, I’ll be the queen, you’ll have mistresses—discreetly of course—and if I want to have Faolan in my bed every so often in secret you’ll say nothing about it.”
    “He’s moved on,” he reminded her cruelly.
    “And the sooner I realize that the sooner you’ll have to say goodbye to your mistresses for good. Do we have a deal?” she asked him.
    He nodded. “I suppose we do.”
    She smiled and retook his arm. “Then come, let’s enjoy my engagement party.”
    He shared her smile and led her out into the sunlight.
    Within a half hour Isabelle knew this party was going to go nowhere. There were doves and swans and bright ribbons of color wrapped around the marble columns that lined the private gardens. But the men that were in attendance were frankly less than she could have hoped for. Amalthea kept shooting her disparaging looks as she lounged in a large chaise with a glass of wine dangling from her fingers as she listened to a duke she couldn’t remember the name of complain about a second cousin.
    She glanced to where Zorin was standing off the side, most of his body hidden in shadows. He met her eyes briefly, laughter lighting his features momentarily before he glanced away. A man came up to him and began a soft conversation, but Zorin quickly brushed him off with a harsh look and a quick word. Considerably paler, the man stepped away from him.
    With a sigh, she caught Zorin’s gaze again and curled her finger toward him. With a soft grin, he approached her.
    “Dacian Macayle,” Zorin greeted the man by her side.
    Ah, so that was his name, Isabelle thought to herself as he quickly made his excuses and scrambled away.
    With a barely contained giggle, she motioned for Zorin to sit down beside her. With an elegant grace she could only hope to mimic, he relaxed into a chair beside her. “Anyone catch your eye?”
    She rolled her eyes and extended her wine glass toward the mingling crowd. “I’ve met most of these men before. They are no more attractive now than they were when I was a princess in Nuer. Nothing has changed except now I just have more curves than I did all those years ago. Not that any of them have noticed.”
    His full lips turned into a brief teasing smile. “Oh, I think plenty of them noticed.”
    She blushed and turned away from him. “Any suggestions?” she asked him as she surveyed the gathered crowd.
    “Specifics?” he asked.
    She pursed her lips. “Under thirty, no children, no widowers.”
    He laughed softly. “Minimum age?”
    “How young is the youngest man here today?”