The Dragon Warlord's Silent Bride

DIANA’S POV

Meris circled the road before turning north.

Raigoro watched the gray dragon disappear behind the ridge. He asked Diana nothing about it.

She was grateful. She had no explanation to give him.

The convoy resumed its journey.

Alma climbed into the carriage beside her.

”Was that normal?”

Diana looked at her.

Alma nodded toward the disappearing dragon.

”Because everyone else is pretending it was.”

Diana wrote:

WE SHOULD LEARN FROM THEM.

Alma considered that.

”Pretend nothing unusual happened?”

Diana nodded.

”That sounds exhausting.”

Diana had considerable experience.

By the thirteenth day, granaries, mills, and ward houses no longer surprised her.

She had begun noticing what Blackharrow expected its people to know.

At one stop, a girl no older than eight corrected Alma.

”One bell is fire. Two is road danger. Three means inside the walls.”

Alma looked toward the tower. ”And four?”

The girl’s mother caught her by the shoulder. ”We do not need four.”

The child looked disappointed.

Diana agreed with her. Four was clearly the interesting one.

The mother bowed to Diana.

”Your Grace.”

Diana returned the bow.

The woman seemed more concerned that her daughter knew the alarm bells than whether a visiting duchess felt welcomed.

Diana approved of the priority.

By the fourteenth day, Eren was well enough to spend part of each afternoon in Diana’s carriage, where he appointed himself personal guide to every road, peak, and old boundary they passed.

His running commentary made one thing increasingly difficult to ignore: Raigoro’s realm extended far beyond the fortress Valence had taught Diana to imagine.

That night they stayed at High Bell Garrison, one day from the Citadel.

Somewhere inside those walls would be nobles who corresponded with Southern courts and people who had traveled between kingdoms. Someone might have met Selena.

Diana could deceive reports more easily than memory.

After Alma fell asleep, Diana stood at the guest-room window. Torches marked the road far below, while the mountains cut away half the stars.

Throughout the evening, maps, casualty reports, and sealed messages disappeared into Raigoro’s room.

Odran would have spent the night before a royal homecoming deciding where everyone should stand.

Raigoro was apparently reading road reports.

Diana closed the curtain.

She slept until the morning bell.

The final day began under a clear sky.

The convoy left High Bell after sunrise.

The road climbed for several hours before leveling along a ridge. Villages gradually gave way to military towers, with Dragon Host standards hanging from black stone posts along the road.

Riders passed the convoy every few miles carrying messages in both directions.

Before noon, the mountains ahead changed.

At first, Diana thought the dark shape between them was another ridge.

Then sunlight touched a wall.

Alma leaned toward the carriage window.

”Princess.”

Diana moved beside her.

Blackharrow Citadel rose from the mountain above the valley.

Its lowest walls stretched between cliffs, while towers climbed the rock at different heights and iron bridges crossed ravines too deep for Diana to see the bottom. Smoke rose from workshops and heating vents built directly into the stone.

Higher still, enormous dragon perches projected beyond the walls. One stood empty. Another held a dark shape with folded wings.

Alma stared.

”That is not a keep.”

She was right.

Valence Palace spread outward through gardens, painted halls, and ornamental towers. Blackharrow climbed straight into the mountain, with roads disappearing through gates and emerging on higher terraces beside workshops, storehouses, barracks, and homes.

A city had been built inside the fortress.

Somewhere inside those walls, rooms had been prepared for Raigoro’s wife.

Diana wondered how many people waiting there had actually met Selena.

The convoy descended from the ridge and approached along the final road.

Northern riders adjusted formation without being told.

Soldiers who had spent fifteen days cursing weather, wheels, horses, and mountain food sat straighter as the first citadel banners came into clear view.

A black dragon surrounded by a ring of pale flame.

Raigoro rode ahead.

A horn sounded from the outer wall.

Two short notes.

Another answered from higher inside the citadel.

Eren, returned to the medical wagon for the final approach, lifted one arm through its open curtain.

A nearby soldier pushed it down.

”You are injured, not victorious.”

”I can be both.”

”Quiet.”

The gates remained closed while sentries confirmed the returning standards.

Diana could see movement along the battlements.

Officers took their positions.

Servants crossed the entrance court beyond the bars.

No musicians gathered.

No flower petals waited on the road.

Blackharrow apparently intended to survive Raigoro’s homecoming without either.

Alma reached over and smoothed a fold in Diana’s coat that did not need smoothing.

Diana looked down at the charcoal cuff beneath her hand. The dress had been measured for her. The gloves fit. Her mountain boots carried fifteen days of road salt and mud.

Selena’s gold cloak remained beneath the seat.

The name was the last borrowed thing she carried.

The gates began opening.

Beyond the gates, the entrance court was already full.

Soldiers and household officers held the formal lines nearest the walls, but Diana’s attention went to the families gathered behind them.

Mourning black appeared everywhere among the winter coats.

News had traveled ahead.

Every person beyond those gates expected Selena Valence.

The gates opened wider.

Hundreds of faces turned toward Diana’s carriage.

Years of moving unnoticed through Valence had taught Diana many useful things.

None of them helped when an entire courtyard had gathered to inspect her.

The carriage stopped while horses stamped against the frozen stones and waiting officers intercepted Raigoro and Daric with reports.

Diana kept the slate in her lap until the formal lines settled into place.

Only then did a Blackharrow guard open her door and lower the step.

Alma touched Diana’s sleeve.

”Princess.”

Diana looked at her.

Alma corrected herself softly.

”Your Grace.”

Diana still had no idea what to do with a title that belonged to a marriage entered under someone else’s name.

Cold air struck Diana’s face as she stepped down.

From the ground, the mourning black among the waiting families was impossible to mistake.

Third Watch.

Perhaps not every family. Enough of them.

A household herald stepped forward.

”Her Grace, Princess Selena Valence, Grand Duchess of Blackharrow.”

Diana felt the borrowed name move across the courtyard.

People bowed.

Most correctly.

Some deeply.

Some because protocol required it and for no other reason.

Near the front stood an older woman dressed entirely in black. She lowered her head but did not bend as far as the others.

A household officer noticed.

So did Raigoro.

He said nothing.

Diana looked at the woman.

The woman looked back.

There was no welcome in her face.

Diana did not blame her.

To the woman, Diana was the princess who had feasted while Third Watch waited for medicine.

Any defense Diana offered would have to begin with her real name.

A veteran standing beside the woman shifted his weight onto a wooden cane. One sleeve of his coat had been pinned neatly below the shoulder.

He bowed.

Correctly.

That was somehow harder to bear.

Raigoro crossed toward Diana.

He did not offer his hand. He simply stopped beside her, close enough that the household understood where she belonged and far enough that taking his arm remained her choice.

”The Inner Keep is above the second court,” he said. ”Your rooms are prepared.”

Her rooms.

Diana looked past him toward the stairways crowded with people who had no reason to care what kind of husband Raigoro became.

She had spent the journey learning one man.

Blackharrow contained thousands more.

Diana started toward the stairs with Alma beside her.

Behind them, the outer gates began closing. Iron moved through stone until the final opening onto the road disappeared.

A household officer met them at the first stair.

”Your Grace, I will show you to the Grand Duchess’s apartments.”

Diana looked toward Raigoro, but three officers had already surrounded him with reports.

The household officer continued.

”His Grace will join you there when council is finished.”

Alma’s fingers closed around Diana’s sleeve.

Diana looked up toward the Inner Keep.

Tonight, Raigoro would come to her rooms as her husband.