Page 6 of Courting the Dragon Prince
Luther couldn’t breathe. The weight of the future bore down on him. His stomach rebelled.
Not caring, he turned away. He stumbled through the crowds, giving poor attempts at smiling. He covered his mouth, desperate not to barf on the floor.
Getting free of the people, he practically ran to the terrace door. A guard opened it. He rushed out. The brisk night air slapped Luther in the face, and he tripped. He righted himself and raced to the railing. He threw himself over it, stomach heaving as he emptied it into the garden below.
Slow, even footsteps echoed on the stone terrace.
Body shaking, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Luther turned to face the glowering expression belonging to Warden Onyx Obsidian.
They stared at each other. Luther sucked in air. His throat burned with vomit and shame.
He expected a derisive comment, something mocking and sharp. Luther tilted his chin up.
But the earth elemental just pressed his lips together, gaze dripping with revulsion before he turned and walked silently away. As if Luther wasn’t even worth insulting.
Luther slumped. He slid down onto the cold stone. He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. His stomach no longer revolted, but his head swam.
Well, Warden Onyx wasn’t the only one disgusted with Luther.
“We have that in common at least,” Luther muttered.
And married couples needed things in common, didn’t they? Maybe Warden Onyx and Luther could build their marriage on their mutual hatred and disgust of Luther.
He clothed his head in his hands as he let out a shuddering breath. He squeezed his eyes shut.
It was hard to believe there was a time when Luther hadn’t been like this.
Once upon a time, he’d been fun, charming, the life of the party. And not in a way where he’d end up spilling his guts in a garden. He’d made friends easily. He’d cared for others, and they’d cared for him. He’d been happy and cheerful.
Then he’d fought in the war. And everything had changed.
Luther had thought he could move on after. He’d tried everything to forget and escape what had happened. But it was like the memories had become his very own shadow, following him into every moment of every second of every day of his life.
Even at this assembly, dedicated to forming the peace treaty, he couldn’t leave the war behind. Luther wanted to be better, for his kingdom, for his family, for his people, for peace. He just wanted to do better. But he couldn’t seem to hold himself together no matter how he tried.
Now he felt like he was just pretending to be the person he’d used to be. And his betrothed seemed to see straight through that pretence to the broken mess Luther was.
Luther knew no peace. But then again, he didn’t deserve any.
Perhaps this was exactly what he deserved: a husband who despised him. A husband who saw him for the worthless piece of shit he was.
“And one day, I’ll be his consort.” Prince Luther laughed silently as he stared up at the stars.
When he’d joined the war, he’d done so with dreams of proving his worth, of making his family proud, of doing his duty for his kingdom.
He’d tried. He really had. But he’d failed.
And now he had to live with that failure.
ChapterThree
Onyx cleared his mind, focusing on his breath, imagining the energy moving between him and the stone he sat on. He sat cross-legged on a stone slab in his room in the White Monastery. He started every day with a meditation; the day after his betrothal had been announced was no different.
But since the war, he’d struggled to keep his mind focused on his breath and the stone. Other thoughts kept creeping in and interfering with the calm he tried to find.
And today, the handsome face belonging to his betrothed kept intruding into his mind. Furthermore, dread at the thought of his upcoming nuptials and future life with Prince Luther built inside his chest.
Focus on the breath. In and out. In and out. Don’t think about anything else. Definitely don’t think of that little shit Prince Luther.
