Page 13 of Courting the Dragon King

And Konrad realised with a start that this was the first time he’d ever heard the prince speak. This was also the closest the two of them had ever been. Strange, he’d imagined the necromancer’s voice to be deeper and gravellier. Something more grating and evil-sounding.

“Good evening, Shadow Prince Wraith,” Konrad said.

A violin began to play in the silent ballroom. Konrad forced himself to hold out his hand. The shadow prince took it. His skin felt soft and surprisingly warm. Konrad had imagined the necromancer’s touch to be cold and stiff, like touching a dead body. His hand was smaller and more delicate than Konrad’s own. Shadow Prince Wraith placed his other hand on Konrad’s shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Konrad put his free hand on the shadow prince’s slender waist. Shadow Prince Wraith immediately moved in close. He smelled of incense and, surprisingly, like lilies at night.

More string instruments started to play. Then the wind instruments joined.

Konrad moved across the ballroom floor. Shadow Prince Wraith followed his lead without any hesitation. He danced fluidly and with far more grace than Konrad had ever held. He practically floated in Konrad’s arms.

And as Konrad stared into his betrothed’s ridiculously pretty face, he remembered Luther’s words. “Would you rather fuck an ugly and spooky necromancer or a beautiful and spooky necromancer?”

Konrad had to admit that although he was repulsed at the idea of marrying a necromancer, bedding the prince in his arms would be no real hardship. Of course, he’d never say that aloud to anyone, especially to his siblings.

Shadow Prince Wraith’s gaze remained steadfast on Konrad’s face. He didn’t even blink. Then his gaze snapped to the left of Konrad, fixing on something over Konrad’s shoulder. His lips parted.

Konrad glanced to his left. There was nothing there. He turned back to his betrothed, whose eyes remained focused to Konrad’s left.

The hair on Konrad’s neck stood up. He pressed his lips together.

Will I have to deal with his weird behaviour for the rest of my life?

Chapter

Seven

Wraith twirled across the marble dance floor in King Konrad’s arms. The king held him in a warm, strong embrace, guiding Wraith through the steps.

For once, Wraith wasn’t being ignored or neglected. He was here, in his betrothed’s arms, dancing at his own betrothal ball. It was so romantic. Or it would have been.

Except the dead dragon king had popped up and now followed them around the dance floor.

“This is good,” King Alaric said to his son. “You marry him. The treaty will be finalised. Peace will reign. Our bloodline and kingdom will be secured.”

As Wraith and the king continued to dance, the dead king said variants of the same thing, over and over. Which was not unusual. The dead tended to get stuck on an idea, usually something they’d focused on in life.

If King Konrad were not here, Wraith would attempt to speak to the dead dragon king and help him move on. But doing so might unnerve his future husband, and Wraith definitely wanted to avoid acting strange in front of him. After all, he wanted his betrothed to like him.

But it was difficult to ignore the urge to help the dead dragon king. It was Wraith’s calling. Furthermore, nothing settled Wraith’s soul like assisting the dead to move on.

Sometimes he just wandered around in the Temple of Veils in Necros, seeking out unsettled spirits so he could assist them. He’d done that here at the White Monastery a few times too. No doubt he’d do it when he moved to Draconia.

“Once the treaty is completed, everything will be right,” King Alaric said. “Everything will be as it should be.” And then he disappeared.

Wraith let out a breath. It was not easy to focus on the here and now with the dead always around. But now he could focus on his future husband. He turned his gaze back to the living dragon king.

He stared at King Konrad’s strong jawline. Up close, the king appeared even handsomer with his regal features, prominent brows, and dark-green eyes. And he had such broad and wide shoulders. Wraith could not ask for a more attractive man to marry.

And what will our wedding night be like? Wraith’s cheeks warmed.

The king gazed out over the crowd as they danced. He moved with so much strength and certainty. Wraith felt … safe in his arms. Protected.

And for a moment, Wraith imagined their future together, far from Necros, the shadow king, and everyone who disliked and shunned him. He’d have a new life with his new husband. A new start.

And maybe this husband would care for him. Perhaps even see Wraith for who he was, accept him, and love him. His lungs clenched so hard it hurt.

I want that. I want him to care for me.